Every word of yours
Is like a knife penetrating my fragile skin.
And as my blood pours from the wounds you created,
I lie.
I lie to you
Because it is easier to hurt me than it is to hurt
You.
Beautiful, beautiful you.
The words leave your mouth with good intentions but
By the time they reach my delicate ear they are plagued with pain,
The pain of your love.
It is unbearable.
You see that you're hurting me but
I smile
That fake smile that I have become so accustomed to.
I reassure you,
Sugar-coating my comfort with little stars that formulate into kisses on          your sweet lips.
I am fine.
I am fine.
I am fine.

I wonder why poets are sad.
Is poetry salvation from misery?
Or is everyone sad?
And maybe we only notice it in the people who write:
Sylvia Plath.
Virginia Woolf.
Charlotte Mew.
So many.
Is poetry just cathartic?
Do people not write about happiness because it has no effect?
Or are they afraid of happiness?
Sara Teasdale.
Anne Sexton.
Richard Brautigan.
Why so many?
Does writing poetry cause sadness?
Because one must reflect on misery to create emotive poems?
Or do sad people write poetry as a form of release?
Humans are addicted to sadness-
Are poets more so?
Are poets the most emotionally intelligent of humanity?
Or are they merely able to describe them?

Us readers feed off the misery of them.
Our creative fuel originates from the pain of poets.

I wonder why poets are sad.

There is a certain comfort in anonymity,
The ability to disguise ourselves as no-one.
But this disguise becomes too real,
Reality and fantasy reverse:
We are no-one,
Our disguise is now the person
We once were.
There is no desperation in regaining our
Identity.
Are we too scared to be someone? To have meaning?
Willingly we discard our existence and
Replace it with nothing.
We are nothing.
Nothing.

I'm in love with the way you move,
The way you smile and the way you kiss.
I'm in love with everything you do,
But I'm not in love with you.

With you, I laugh for a lifetime.
Together with you is happiness.
No day with you is ever blue,
But I'm not in love with you.

You touch my skin softly-
Such a gentle touch for a strong hand.
Before now, my heart has never been true.
But I'm not in love with you.

We run together,
Incandescent beauty shimmering in our wake.
I hope my days with you are not few.
But I'm not in love with you.

Your startling pulchritude
Holds a certain mystery,
To which I'm scavenging to find a clue.
But I'm not in love with you.

And as we windmill home,
Our hands clasped together like we will never part,
We vow that time we will subdue.
But I'm not in love with you.

As we kiss in the moonlight,
The typical romance induces a magic we cannot describe.
It dances between us,
Between our eyes.
Whispering as though it were a dangerous secret
You say "I love you".
And I smile and repeat the phrase.
But, darling, I'm not in love with you.
I'm not in love with you.

You shine through the darkness,
A single flame in a sea of emptiness.
I am drawn to you,
Captivated by your secret beauty.
Wonder seeps through your every aspect,
An air of mystery surrounds you.
I watch from afar,
Observing your every emotion.
Hope emits from your presence,
A faith so strong it overwhelms nature.
Suddenly you go out.
And once again I am
Lost
In this
Sea of emptiness.

A child smiles
At the smallest of things:
The way a bird flies,
The beat of its wings.
A rich autumn's breeze,
A cold winter's day,
The summer's green trees,
When spring comes to stay.
A dark empty night,
A white moon's face,
Stars shining bright,
A wonderful place.
A room filled with love,
Surrounded by laughing,
The thought of above,
Acceptance, no asking.
But then we grow up
And we smile no more.
We don't want to be us,
Nothing at all.
Don't lose your dreams,
Don't lose your smile.
Always believe.
Be your inner-child.

A fluttering heart,
A warm comfort,
A yearning so painful
You won't believe.
A constant smile,
A sudden tingling,
A quivering lip
You can't see.
An excited leap,
A sense of acceptance,
A nervous glance
You don't see.
A hopeful dream,
A strong belief,
But love won't come
To me.

I see a horse, elegant and proud,
I remember riding one into the cloud,
Her head held high, braver than me,
She was shot, that horse, despite her plea.

A firework explodes in the sky,
I remember him, his hopeless cry,
The night the shell came over my head,
And the next morning we found him dead.

A choir sings, it's Christmastime,
I remember the peace that cold daytime,
Boxing day we start killing again,
But that Christmas we were friendly gunmen.

I sit in a café eating beans,
I remember it, those dreadful scenes,
We were so hungry at mealtime,
But stealing rations was a crime.

My son runs around with a toy gun,
I remember how he did nit run,
Only looked pleadingly into my eyes,
I had no mercy- he soon dies.

I am not proud to be alive,
I am not happy to have survived,
I will remember you with all my heart,
In my head we will never part.

Wherever I go, whatever I do,
The war is with me.
It comes too.

With black leaves and black clocks,
I fall and drift as the time I forgot
Spirals beneath me,
A whirlpool dragging me
Down, down, down.
It dirties my soul with every turn,
Blackens the lessons that I learn,
Removes my life that means nothing now.
Away I travel.
Exploring the world with a sense of unknown,
Pitter-pattering on the edge of reason.
My doom is inevitable.
It is imminent.
It is lonely.
Alone, alone I press on.
I take back the black of the leaves and the clocks,
And slow the seconds in the time I forgot.
It is now.

Again my eyes flicker down to the screen in front of me.
I wait.
Every few seconds I check again.
Just waiting
For the sound that brings so much hope,
So much love.
Still you haven't replied.
I try to forget but it never leaves my mind.
My eyes keep returning to the vacant glow.
Repeatedly I check,
Aware of my desperate futility.
I will wait
For you
Forever.

My heart leapt
But my soul fell
Into an eternal abyss.
Further and further away
From light,
From hope,
From love.
I am empty and alone,
Unwanted and abandoned.
I am drowning,
Struggling to reach the surface.
Still there is a smile:
A pretence,
A façade.
My soul still falls
But my heart continues.

You open it.
A quivering hand turns the page.
They become you and
You become them.
Their emotions are yours.
You are lost in the words.
This is your escape.
You are free at last.

She doesn't care where she ends up.
She just keeps on going.
Hiding away until she reaches
What she came for.
A smile plastered to her worn face,
Hiding the pain
Of growing up too fast.
More mature than her age.
Her laugh hides an injured soul,
Within her eyes
A sense of longing.
Terrible beauty
Hiding
Deep within her