Won for Seven

There's a gap between the desk and draw
Where the forgets lay resting on the floor.
Only when the scribble clears do I understand the weight,
The subtle hints once too insecure for fate.
It wasn't the mixtape stapled in its prison,
Or the smell of cologne that had once proudly risen,
It was the shivers. Do you remember the shivers?
They started by the pool underneath under the lip quivers
Where secrets were exchanged, words too raw it burned to say.
Significance in question; I still remember that day.

Now my mouth burns remembering it is less than a memory,
Pushed in to a corner so my broken eyes don't have to see.
Motions keep going, sometimes remembering the forgets;
After all the bleached angels I have seen, my home's inside regret.
Put on that dusty mixtape, but the voice sings too slow;
Whoever said yesterday had to come and go?

Day/Night [Haiku]

Clouds are a cobweb,
with the sun as a spider
eating all the stars.

Behind

No, you couldn't tell.
So quiet behind the sheet,
quick to judge, slow to follow
the movement of their feet.

Signs lay trapped on the street,
rounded corners now broken bones;
They aren't looking for the beginning
the end didn't leave them so alone.

Pink clouds hide a half-baked home
when the sun collapses luck is grey.
Dark brings an awkward reckoning,
not the questions exposed by day.

Cover up the wayward prey,
the eyes that have no sleep.
Marks on skin and emptiness
follow me like sheep.

Behind the broken bed they keep,
the flowers that've misplaced bloom
back to when they were born,
leaving all too soon.

Questioning shapes in the moon,
once had lived but left behind,
on the street of lost intention
where no one has time.