Just a few more days remaining ... ... ...
Rain rain won't go away
Until the whole world is erased
(We all know this)
He looked across the wide abyss
Only NOTHING was there
(where are we going?)
Little child of the Underworld
YE won't have to go to high school no more!
Little girl with torn underwear!
YE finally will have your say
I WITH THE DEEP SWORD IN MY HAND
I WITH THE FIERCE LOVE IN MY EYE
In a story
In a song
//... // ... //
Once was seed
Before GREED itself was MAN
Just a few more days remaining ... ... ...
(we all know this)
I will love you
All the while
The concept of you overflows much of the space within my scattered thoughts.
I want you here to cradle my wind-chapped hands in yours and giggle as I read you my winded attempts at poetry.
I want you to enter into the unknown with me and stay up as I hold you on the nights when the aching takes over us both.
I want you here to fight and wrestle with me over which movie we will cuddle too tonight and I want to listen to you rant passionately about the injustices you have seen in the world today
I want to love every broken piece of you and mend every shattered dream and heartbreak you've experienced back to health
And I want us to work together to take on this world that scares us both to death,
I want you in the most innocent of ways,
But God do I want you,
More than I ever thought one could want a concept of a man who has yet to find a find his way to me.
I hope you’re searching.
I hope you’re wondering.
I hope you’re waiting.
And dear God, I hope you want me as much as I want you.
Oh mighty banana
Whose shape has been ridiculed
And whose yellow is no one’s favourite colour
You’ve been labelled so many things, including a fruit
Which is so unfair, because you can be nothing but what you are
I hold you in my hand
And I feel your cold skin, a reflection of your loneliness
And I think how hard your armour seems to be
But as I peel your outer shell back, hearing the ripping of your banana soul
I know a softness, so sweet, awaits
Your innards are mushy
Your texture is rough
Your taste leaves my mouth dry
If I had a sense of smell I’m sure you’d be just as plain
No wonder no one loves you
I toss your empty, lifeless peel away
Enraged by the lack of satisfaction
As you land I pray I forget what I just experienced
But alas, mere moments later
I burp, and am haunted by your stale taste
Jack walks down Arbuthnot street.
he hopes to meet a little more than anything on any street he's ever met before,but this he hopes on every street and his hopes are dashed each time he meets the corner where the lights of disillusionment turn red.
His feet are sore,each street he's walked on he has swore would be the last,he wonders who or what he's searching for.
Today he'll go again,he'll catch the train to set him down,another town and one more street,today he thinks that he might meet but doesn't know the reason why,he's getting old now,time's flown by.
As he walks down Eldridge avenue he meets the moment that he knew would come,the sun shuts out his shout and in the silence which the day has broke apart,his heart beats time and one last time within the speed of memories he see's what he's been searching for,and then
the door shuts on his life.
All she could do was laugh as she slipped into the tub,
her make up long smudged and her hair undone.
The water filled up along with iridescent bubbles cornering the rim.
All she could do was laugh as the searing hot water rushed onto her,
but she was beyond the point of caring.
But the laugh was not happy you see,
it was filled with pain.
All she could do was laugh as she touched the faint white scars on her body mumbling,
'my skin is much too clean'
All she could do was laugh as her slim fingers fiddled with the knife,
and she slowly brought it to her fair skin.
And she laughed and laughed until the water went dry and her body was almost as red as the blood starting to circle the drain.
But she could care less.
For that laughter was merely a cry of help,
to save her from circling the drain.
then why is that which is so blatant to thee
so inexplicably illogical to one's own eyes
for never before have eyes pondered to see
what had never been sought
what value, what worth
is placed upon a singular soul
out of such great breadth
that one's own may be deemed as
to so many eyes
for never before have any eyes
had such a perspective
as to see
with any sense of hope
for hope is insignificant and
inexplicably illogical and
for what proof lay awakened as to substantiate such substantial existence
as to declare this soul
to have any worth, any value
if so unseen
or is it intake?
It is horrible, to have such precious moments
and then return to the nothingness
(I rather do not return to the shore of tsunami's and
people screaming and black waves consuming me,)
( I'm afraid, I'm afraid)
To feel so much happiness all at once-
leaving absolutely nothing behind
(I rather do not feel that empty, a blank mind and hollow eyes,
sharp razor drawing lines on a pale skin,)
(I'm afraid, I'm afraid)
I went from being at a terrible place,
to being in your arms
It has been the happiest and most warm I've felt in months
and for once, I can say
I found someone who makes me happy
You make me happy
and that, makes me terribly afraid.