Eastern princess

Is it ridiculous that I'm jealous of your cat?
You're little, fluffy, white Eastern princess?

She gets to wake up with you each morning and put you to bed.
She gets to see you off and comfort you after a hard day of work.

She's there for you and you're there for her..

Breakfast lulaby

Maybe you came here for a poem,
And maybe you didn't. 

A thought or a whisper

Or maybe a sign.

I start off my mornings with a single lost thought.
Every morning it's different yet always seems the same.
It may not be a secret - what I feel towards you.
And I know I don't say a lot but neither do you,

I start every morning with a thoughtful embrace.
I welcome the daylight with a sad smile on my face.

Because even though it isn't as bad as my dreams,

I'm still here alone while you're in some faraway place.

You know it is time to put away your mask

And end the pointless charades

When you cry out your wounded heart

As you chew trough your meal.

It's not a very cheerful lullaby but not every day can be entirely bright.

Find your favorite flavor

Find your favorite flavor.
It's going to completely spoil any other flavor. You might like them at first but with time you come to detest them. But you wouldn't find true happiness without that one flavor that, unless your lucky, will likely destroy you. Tear you apart.
But maybe, with a lot of effort and hope, one day you will no longer have to feat of losing it. Maybe on day it will be part of you and you will be part of it.

The cookie that never knew the expiration date

Never knew the dread that it brings.

When you don't know whether you'll live or die
Or when the moment that will break you apart is about to fall.
You don't feel remorse for the time that you idle hoping for the best.

You live life how you feel never thinking you shouldn't stay still.
Your life is a dream in which you can only fell deeper.

The cookie that never knew it's expiration date was the happiest of them all.

(Lately I've been chased by nightmares. Both day and night. I can't recall most of what I've seen but what I remember - they were about something so fundamental it physically hurt.)

The smell of a perfect morning

Have you ever felt it.

Savored it?

Only now, 

Whilst sinking in my own madness 

And the perfume on my hand,

Do I understand what it was that I felt.

Not some strong, forbidden feeling.

Nor a longing or a burning desire.

What I feel is, and has ever been,

Much simpler than that.

Some people, when they're upset,

Go out and search for a happy place.

One of which they could dream

And escape the sadness.

Their own madness.

For me this isn't a particular place.

The presence you bring is what puts me at ease.

But I can not dream of something so out of my reach,

So what ends up haunting me in my sleep and my dreams

Is the smell of a perfect morning in a less than perfect day.