A cliché

A wonder

A woman.

Sweet and sultry,

Intoxicating and charming,

Love that is eternal.

Ne’er as close

As we wish to be,

Wishing to become one.

The banishment to exile,

The perpetual purgatory,

She is worth every second,

Every ounce

Of pain.

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The Mirror

The mirror in bathroom shows my sunken eyes from the lack of last nights rest. Though I slept, it was a dreamless sleep, restless and wakeful. As the dark circles stare back at my, I list off my tasks for the morning. Workout, feed the dogs, eat breakfast, walk to dogs, shower, get dressed, pack lunch, go to work. I hate the bathroom mirror in the morning.

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The clouds in the once blue sky

drain into a dreary gray.

The bird’s song drifts farther away.

As the sun meets the horizon

and darkness slowly consumes

what is left of the light,

the silence becomes a calm

so strong that my breath slowly fades.

Gravity no longer holds me

to the soil;

I’m no longer clinging to my flesh.

Relief and despair marinating

in the nothingness,

as my consciousness dissipates into dust.

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