On Missing People You Shouldn’t

On night like tonight, in between the fire and the January cold outside, I cannot help but miss what you used to say to me. Not the words, no it was never about the words. It was what you understood, what I never said. Like my silence right before I went to bed. It was how you exactly knew how I felt.

I wish you hadn’t, I wish you didn’t. Because that is what I search for, in every stranger who crosses my path.

Will I ever stop looking for your face in the rain, after the facades have been washed away? I wish you were cruel, wish you were a monster, a sordid ghoul. Or a dream that I can’t remember after I woke. Or Cinderella’s carriage after the midnight stroke.

But you were not. But you are not.

© That Girl in the Fray, 2018. All rights reserved.



The lull questions my answers.

The dark wrings out my fallacy.

And I hear the lone bird screeching in the middle of the night,

Seething wounds on the wing,

The cold a choking blanket, a fatal lullaby.


The setting of the sun brings the demons out alive.


And ever time, I give in.

And every single time I fall.


© That Girl in the Fray, 2016. All rights reserved.

Love Song of the Inconspicuous Nomad

The Leaves of Grass bend and curve, too unnoticeable, as I tread on

Ironic as I too am one among the inconspicuous travelling hearts

Homesick for a nonexistent home, luring me, gnawing on, the insatiable emptiness of this abyss

I can feel the cold reach my spine, a numerous dark dystopic malignant thoughts are born

Your absence scares me the most as I try to choose among the paths

Insufferable endings, unfathomable innumerable starts

I await, walking on this moonless night, of death’s sweet sweet kiss

For all feelings, aspirations, expectations, epiphanies are already long dead

I buried them as She buried her Sorrow

But of this visible superficial facade, I do not know.

I saved some of those thoughts

Wrapped the fragile carefully, stowed them in a box

‘tis a moonless night but the stars do glisten

I still am in wait, still try to listen

To the sound of the footsteps that may accompany me on this lonesome quest

But I think my ears are too accustomed to this eerie quiet

The heart that knows no rest

The soul that is utterly tired

I still keep that box with me as I rest under this tree for the night

Though you may never find me, says this deep dark fearful insight,

I hope I remember where I left it, before my memory fades forever

You find me before I turn to ice, burn away my fear of never.