I've always longed for
the idea of letting go.
And truly go mad.
That must be so insanely relieving.

You can rest now,
Sooner than you think.
For your legs are tired
Mind is mired
By past events.

It has not all gone your way
Nor has it gone too far astray

You may walk that corridor
Past haunted portraits
Hung skewed upon the wall.
Each one faded,
Canvas scratched
By the history of memories attached.

It took years to build these walls
From the remnant of a childhoods fall
The first and last line of defence
To halt invasions and consequence.

You can rest now,
Sooner than you thought
You fought the battle,
You lost the war.

Maybe the reason I loath falling asleep,
is fear of waking up.
Finding out that I've lost you,
without even knowing.

I have this cause so consuming . . .
like an overdose that's overwhelming

When salt water was as sweet as the memories that washed over my feet by the edge of high tide's completion


"Go find the door to your ambition
before it closes to the winds of desiccation"

The binding has cracked
the paper turned yellow  
Touching ,  now brittled backed
So it has been written "finis" upon the last page of life

The words I collected like seashells
as the wrinkles of face grew to foretell

The foam and waves swept over my toes
as the sand was ****** away from beneath

They say the pain will go away .
then they wish you well ,
. . . turn . . . and walk away

I look back upon life as if it were a dream :
a scheme . . .
a scream . . .
and so naive

"I will check out the skies in Rome ,
I promise now when winter is gone"

I long for the hot sands of purification
Where the bleached bones
have reached end's destination

Somewhere next to a Coptic sea
where time falls short on eternity I will kneel to my desperation


In another year
it will be another day's difference in time ,
as another grain of sand falls it loosens its bind

"Won't you come and bring thirst's renewal of relief ?"

Don't leave me gazing . . .
searching for that distant smile . . . buried in my  beliefs

If not . . . then
let me wish you well . . .
turn . . . and walk away

I found him
hidden inside the closet.
That's what safety looks like.

She knew well how to give,
but nothing about receiving.
Leaving unfamiliar people
with a sense of warmth and reassurance,
but close ones detached
and alienated.