When Trains Don't Wail

When I can't see your eyes
the next morning-
the robins don't sing
and the trains don't wail.

Pain, monotone and poisonous-
like acid rain-
rages and pounds stomach walls
when your car isn't in my driveway.

The heart burns and melts
and makes its way back up my throat-
into my nose and eyes
Always burning.

My ears have fled the static
of our cell phones to
hide inside my collapsed brain-
ugly and deformed.

My body has been crushed
from head to toe-
side to side
when I try to remember your warmth.

When I can't see your eyes
the next morning-
the robins don't sing
and the trains don't wail.


Just a bout of lonliness as I constantly miss Anthony Draconius. Feel free to butcher, it's definatly not my best at all.

-Seras