Worn

Trodding this lonely road
Scuffed and worn boots
Raising puffs of dirt
Rocks rolling along
With forced perspective
Gaze downcast and low
Fat droplets of cold rain
Chilling as they run
Down the neck
Jacket collar upturned
To no avail

Unbidden Image

Fingers tracing the lines on your skin,
The colors vivid, alive, desirous
Moving and following each as if
Drawing them anew with my fingertips
Lips going behind, retracing that where
My fingers had just been, a burning trail
Want and need colliding with a force of
Cosmic proportions, exponential in nature
Never waning but growing, changing
One day, fulfilled

Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

But is it?....Every year I have the highest of hopes for Christmas. Romantic walks for shopping and viewing lights, bundled against the cold and coffee in hand,time spent with family and friends, the looks on peoples faces as they open gifts, opening up that perfect gift myself, all of it I can see in my mind. Yet the fact is, it never works out that way. Too hurried, too many bad attitudes, too much want want want that it is made hard to enjoy. I would like to not feel alone, to be with someone that cares, to enjoy the season for what it is and not what it has become. There has to be more. I could care less about gifts but opening up something that shows absolutely no thought was put into it is more depressing than no gifts at all. I'll smile, I'll hum carols softly, I'll buy gifts and I'll seem to enjoy it but deep down, it's just another month, week, day.

Unexpected

Palpable is the longing
Desire running rampant
Expecting that what's to come
Is diminishment, a lessening
But instead, the opposite
A growing