Cigarettes and summer nights
The fireflies are blinking lights,
Dampened grass on naked feet
A gentle hush, of wind through wheat

Stars are out, and moon is round
This field of mine is scarce of sound
Rich in light and textures full,
It’s in my mind, I feel its pull

A sour face in a distasteful place
Of bottles and stools, of drunks
And of gentry that meet to discuss
The finer matters of life. Fine like
The needle that eludes the eyes
Of all but the man
With the tack
In his thumb

I think I drowned today,
Swallowing water in my bed
As all the fish and trash and things,
Floated around my head

I saw the morning sun
Reaching through the sea,
Its light dulled by the leagues
Of water over me

The crushing depth of ocean,
Held me where I lie
And the quiet thump of waves
Told me of the beach and sky

It was then that I remembered
I knew how to swim
I flailed my legs, and reached my arms
Getting aches in all my limbs

But within a couple seconds
I saw with disbelief
I only sunk down further
Towards that rocky reef

And all the people, I used to think
Would pull me out of that deadly sink
Were nowhere to be found

But I knew in my deepest mind
I cut apart the rope that binds
My life to those, that stood on ground

A swordfish swam around my body
And stabbed me through the heart,
My lungs filled with blood and salt
My screams tore my chest apart

The folks in boats above me
Couldn’t hear me cry
The bubbles of my struggle
Breached the surface with a sigh

They say it doesn’t matter
If it’s six or sixty feet,
But had you been with me today
You’d likely disagree

I need help.
Not of a monetary or physical kind,
Not of a spiritual or biblical kind,
Not the help that wipes your chin
Not the help that forgives your sin
A third kind of help, is what I need

I need help.
Or I think I might lose the will to live
Or I think I must start to **** to live,
Or to think of a life that leans on none
Or to think of a way that I can be done
An urgent help is the help I need

I need help.
I don't know if a friend can give it,
I don't know if a love can live it
I need more help, a help that persists,
I need more help than I think exists
An eternal help is what I need

A help, from within

Not love but infatuation
Fosters the creation
Of lines of words and verse
And of heartfelt confession

An intense physical reaction,
An almost painful attraction
Gives birth to beautiful words
From within one's soul

But honest and selfless love
While important enough,
Allows one to exist in present contentment:
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