"I should've kissed you."

His voice stirred the cold, still air. His sigh for a moment was visible, a soft cloud in the air before him, before it faded to nothing.

A tear slipped down his cheek, and his eyes fell closed. He felt it begin to freeze even as it traced down to his lips. He lifted cold fingers to touch them.

"I'm so sorry," he choked, and opened his eyes. They rested on the headstone before him. Cold, silent, unfeeling--it was everything she had never been. His eyes traced her name, engraved in gray rock. Without her smile in front of him, the glow of her cheeks, they were just words.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Tears blurred his vision, and he let his hand rest in the snow that covered her grave. "I meant to tell you sooner. I meant to tell you-- I -- I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He broke into sobs, shoving his hand over his mouth. Shaking, he shifted from his knees to sit next to the headstone, his head falling between his knees. As his breath steadied, he turned his eyes back to where his gentle love lay in the ground.

"I thought you knew. There's no way I could have hid it from you, I-- I was in too deep. I was in too deep from the first day I met you. When I saw you on the balcony, laughing with your friends, your hair was still dyed yellow-blonde... I always liked it brown, you know. I should've told you that. I'm sorry. I just wish I'd said something, you know? You have to know, you have to..."

He pressed frozen fingers to his lips.

I should've.

While I still had the chance.

Whiskey and Wine

always got along fine

until one night they tumbled together.

What they thought would be nice,

a cocktail on ice,

left them high, dry, and unfettered.

Where she used to be sweet,

he simple and neat,

now they swirled in a toxic ether,

of love and lust

that in the end must

leave them both feeling under the weather.

So keep it in mind

that not all pairings wind

up as happy as lace and leather.

No, these two should stay friends,

and not hook-up again,

so we all can wake up feeling better.

Entering the room.

He lifts his head,

From my bed.

Yawns.

Curls up.

Asleep again.

You know that pit?

The one that eats into your stomach

Making tiny pinprick holes

Every time you see

Their pages

And tweets

And snaps

And posts

That don’t include you?

You know that silence?

The one that follows the confrontations

You’re brave so you don’t sit back

And take their shit

No you stand tall and tell them how it feels

But every-time they still don’t hear you

And you are again the mat they step on

The reliable mat

That will always be there, no matter what

You know that anger?

As you block out them

And their noise

And their vibrant lives.

But when you do

You block out the

One part of yourself

You maybe

Liked?

You know that hole?

The one you crawled into

It was so dark

And warm

And comforting

You couldn’t see yourself

Or really anything

So why is it

That now you can’t seem to get out?

You know that girl?

The one who you knew so well

Oh you knew everything about her

She was an open book

An easy read

But now she’s lying at the bottom of that hole

With a pit and an anger and a silence

That is consuming her

From the inside

And she can’t get out

And she can’t get out

And she can’t get out

And she can’t get out

Without help.