Restricted

I leave it mute
pleading with my eyes for you to hear the silent
I love you's.
and the words my broken articulation
can't choke out,
I sit in silence
thinking everything I could say
but afraid
the shaking hands too hard to place
I clasp yours uncertain, if I should
believe
that in which I, before, so strongly opposed
listening to your words
feeling the meaning through pronounced syllabals
restricted to return the adoration.

If a Feather

　
If a feather could break our string, we should have used a rope
       because, it may have been me.
and the injustices my fault,
but I am not alone to share the blame
             should I,
Should I be ashamed of what lies beneath flesh
residing in unfathmable corners,
should my forgivness be fleeting
skin deep- in thin layers of cells
lost beneath the scarred tissue?

But the pictures can't replace the past
and I can't seem to mimic the laugh
the empty attempts left to my hand
and even if I do all I can
will we still be broken strings
the entangled convictions fighting
to regain merely a shadow of what used to be.