Denial and Shock
My heart burns, how bright
to lend me the pain to write
these melancholic rhymes trite?
A release to please my plight.
How is this fair?
I belong there,
beside you of age
on a rocking chair.
How did it come to this?
I never got to insist:
I would die for you and
at least try, in gist. ;)
snub this wildfire please
The tree houses of our dreams
we built; are shining in gleam
of ubiquitous and silent screams
of burning fantasies
of how we would first talk
first meet, first kiss, first walk
along the edges of running clock
bargaining for more
leering towards the shore
of our conundrum. Adore
I our sentiments pure.
But, its time to go.
This isn't happening
You are mine, this is our time
when did patience become crime?
This ache is nothing sublime.
I'm becoming cold and old in my prime
just as the burnt up ashes of coals
abandoned before bed.
I must have misread,
your eyes aching and sad
for a welcome. If I had
let you in, you would've seen
the reflections manifold that wean
and suffocate therein.
it is time to go.
of course I am dreaming
that you are now leaving
and I was a fool for believing
love waits. It is deceiving
what your eyes tell.
although I am compelled
to look, I will not dwell
on meanings and spells
you cast. I will fast
from your thoughts.
it is time to wake up and go.
This is my day 81 entry of the 100 days of poetry by 
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goddamnit.