Blustery

By Amie May

Glass tears fall upon experienced cheeks

reflected by the light of the moon.

Inside, the trap door of a
fallen heart closes tight
allowing only a bittersweet
breeze of temptation entrance.
Memories jolting - through a glass
mind of things so clear
ending always at a loss.
How much can one take before
the heart bursts and mind
shatters into a thousand pieces.
How many more of lifes' terrible treasures
can one own.

I ask for only peace,
I dream only of love.
These things seem equivalent only to that
of grasping a fallen feather on the windiest of days.