.Counting Lovers Like Stars.

Counting lovers like stars. Candles
Burning in empty wine bottles.
Hair is pulled back, singing the blues
Once more, no longer amused and
The sun rises, blooms like a lily
In a rainbow sky. Still, it's silly,
This desire to be loved the way
I want to be loved. So each day
I play lovers like piano keys,
Leaving like a butterfly on a careless breeze.

One day, pulled back my eyelashes will rise.
The piano will burn, disappear with a sigh.
The darkness, like me, will be silent and still.
In the sun I will rise, rise until

There is a word in the dark.
And it is ugly and stark.

.Hope.

Like a thousand little hands
Waving
As a dream flutters by
I see
Pinpricks
Of Hope
Piercing
The velvet vacuum
of
The End.

My first word-doodle ever! Actually, I lied. This is not my first word-doodle ever. Not really. It was a poem until I stopped myself half-way.