Once we were one.

Our lives so entwined,

I could not tell where I began and you ended.

Who would have thought that the closer two hearts get,

The easier they are to break?

Now I find pieces of my shattered heart scattered everywhere.

The knife cutting deeper and deeper until it’s so dull,

I no longer feel the pain.

But when I wake and expect to see your face,

And all I see are empty sheets,

The knife is sharp once again.

The once little house now seems cavernous;

Your laughter echoing down the hall.

To see you hunched over the bathroom sink,

Sedulously applying your make-up;

Even though I thought you looked stunning

Without it.

Why is it so easy to forget the bad?

Why is it so easy to forgive you when you are gone

But not when you were here?

All I know is that I loved you…once.


The Old Man

The old man stared into the mirror;

His eyes once fierce like that of a stormy sea,

Now turned a tepid milky blue;

Swimming in two dark, hollow crescent moons.


The fields of gold atop his head now turned to snow.

He stared at his hands; Once taut and firm,

Are now just skeletal remains of what was.

Relics of some forgotten civilization.


Suddenly, he is taken over by a fit of spasmodic coughs.

A spray of blood splashes the porcelain sink.

His throat burns like an overused chimney.

The bellows of his lungs gasping, grasping for fresh air.


A sickly wave of nausea threatens to consume him,

But he resists to its pleas. He feels exhausted and heavy,

As if gravity was pushing him into the ground.


Then, he feels a cold, spidery hand scuttle up his spine

And clamp down on his bony shoulder.

And then he fell into a deep, dark sleep…