The emptiness felt at the bottom of the heart,
Stomach muscles turning is a delicate art.
Relooping thoughts in the mind,
A smile drooping, left behind.

Heavy breathless breathing,
Anger’s edge, the jaw is seething.
Harmful disclosures, piercing the soul,
Unspoken words are taking their toll.

Love vibes in the air ****

**Everything I want to hear. ** **Eyes looking far away. ** **On any given day. ** Smiling like Mona Lisa **Saying I need ya. **

It's such a beautiful sight—a pop of color in an olive-green sea of trees.
Yellow wings caution is what it means. Let it be something only seen. You are grabbing your heart a flutter of another degree. The regent Whistler is a sign of death. It could be.

Always there for them, always meeting their needs. Even if it stems from greed, they’re viewed through rose-colored glasses—the perfect one who constantly needs the beloved one, the only one they truly believe.

**** Lay down and lay sweet. **** **** Think about momma as you dream, **** **** Together, hand and hand, **** **** Momma and baby are dancing in dreamland. ****

Lay down and lay sweet. **Think about Daddy as you dream. ** **Together, hand in hand, Daddy and Baby dance in dreamland. ** **Lay down, lay down, rest baby, lay sweet. **

Flickering of lights Anticipation begins Water stains on glass

Stepping out of the shower with my heart pounding and a slight grin on my face. All I could think about was how long I had waited for this day to come. With a bit of anxiety to go with my excitement I began to wonder if this is the right thing to do. Quickly that thought was forgotten with a new worry of did I forget anything? With my emotions everywhere I couldn’t believe our wedding day was finally here.

Do you love me? Do you love me, not? Silence.

**Three quarters have gone of a year. ** **Leaves are falling all around. ** **The sound of acorns hitting the ground. ** **It is a time of year we hold dear. ** **The holidays are near. ** **Cheers, that familiar sound. ** **Watching the football being tossed around. ** **The atmosphere shifts when the Nightingales appear. ** **Crickets are calling, and the leaves are crunching. ** **Smelling wood burning. ** **Children are playing, and men are hunting. ** **The cool temperature of the air slowly emerging ** **The tree's colors are stunning. ** **The seasons are converting. **

The words don’t come The rhythm is off-tempo, Emptiness rhyming with pointlessness, A blank page, a blank stare, mindful aimlessness in the air. She glares at the pages so bare that no poet can be found anywhere.