Star-Crossed Lovers

Precious lovers, all that is honest and real.
Entirely fictatious -- why pine for something consisting almost entirely of fantasy?
Oh, sit under the stars, Humour me at least.
Don't mock my vain attempts to create something not dripped in bitterness,
You simply smile in that manner, cute as it is condesending.
Your kisses are sweet, something I find myself replaying over and over;
Scarce as they often are.
We appear years, miles and even worlds apart.
My attraction for you is somewhat obvious,
Why do you even so much as glance in my direction?
I have no complaints, of course.

I'll wait until our paths cross again;
Close my eyes, I'm wishing on stars, darling.

Sunset over Sunrise.

Glimmers of light shine through tightly drawn curtains,
I try desperately to ignore the opening signs of daytime.
I toss and turn, with every intent to sleep right on through,
Waking, again, at nightfall.

If you ever look down on a city in darkness, with every light illuminated, it is perfect.
Life is evidently present and all around, but not so glaringly obvious as it is in the day.

I go now, to wash the remains of yesterday from me,
and to dress, for the occasion of a brand new day.

Paint the Silence.

If you shout, it becomes impossible to hear the silence.
I scream, so you'll never be able to tell.
You don't, which is both irritating and amusing to me,
Blissfully unaware, as I do not cave to your pathetic pleas.
They feel neither real, nor true. I don't like to believe you anyway,
Often inaccurate as you are.

Yes, I am perfectly well, thank you.

The truth is something of great beauty,
Beauty being something I cease to possess.