My Heaven

There is a place nearby

Where the longing

For the some things

And some ones are kept

For all that I can feel

 but no longer touch

It has no streams

It has no trees

dressed in green, gold or red

it has no cliffs

to sit on the edge

 and contemplate what ifs

It carries no clouds,

and no planes or birds

freely fly through

it holds no life,

just a memory of life that once was

It’s not the same as what I want

It’s what I presently have

There is a faraway place existing

Where I don’t yet exist

Where those some things

And some ones now live

Where butterflies

 frequently flutter

 as indigo happily swirls itself

 across a summer sky

It is swarming with eager smiles

Familiar, kind eyes

and open, fervent arms

It’s nourished through creation

Always bursting with fresh art

It holds life

A life that is now

It’s the same as what I want

And all I am yet to have again

My Heaven is when and where

these two places collide

Where the empty is filled

And when the lost is found

Wasted

Stole the blue

 from the morning sky

And used it to ink sorrow

Across my heart

Now newly tattooed

The only permanence that exists

In my autumn world

Of dead brown

And teasing gold

Where everything falls

After it finally changes

And nothing grows old

Just bare and cold

Now winter captures 

and consumes

These unfinished chapters

Though I’m too weary to rage

And tear off each white,

 wordless page

Just monotony and I

Snoozing through tomorrow’s alarm

And waking winded

 in a panic of forgotten tasks

a pond of wasted years

cupped in my palms

Splashing a face of unfaceable fears

Can’t revive the past

It’s all down the drain

Clogged with pain.