You breathed your last breath from the air
in this room;
that threadbare Persian carpet
holds flakes from your skin;
hairs from your head
corkscrew the dented cushions
scattered and idly waiting on the sofa;
bed linen scented with your sweat
the goose down doona that stole
your last warmth;
sleep spit and tears
human moisture that permeates
the acrylic layers of your pillow;
an eyebrow hair wedged in the tweezers;
a clipped nail that flew off
somewhere out of sight;
that new toothbrush used only once;
your flannel and towel still drying out;
the wet press footprint on the bathroom mat;
the talcum powdered slippers
abandoned under the brass bed.
Each moment of everyday
we shed ourselves
shed dead cells and renew -
a cycle of shedding
until the last
shedding of ourselves.
© M.L. Emmett
Maybe I’ll never make a good father,
the world has shown me it’s ugly face.
I see things too logically,
The things I’ve done and seen,
my dark sense of humour,
twisted sources of entertainment
My sedated emotions
and even my choice of forensics profession
all these things probably makes me
a pretty bad father,
a bad person.
Ursa: Aren't you going to create anymore?
Tesla: What's the point? They'll steal it from me, and then use it to destroy me, I won't survive...
Ursa: You've brought light to the world! They'll surely remember you!!
Tesla: No they won't. And it will be someone else that takes the credit...
Love is patient,
And it's kind,
But i don’t believe in any of it because I
know that your love will never truly
I’ve heard that
Love is blind,
But no one ever talks about the hot, white aching.
The pain that comes with these feelings.
No one talks about how one-sided love crushes your heart,
All these feelings are Greek to me.
I would never know how it really feels,
to be swept off your feet,
And looked at like you’re the most beautiful thing
To ever be contrived.
And cherished like I’m their only lifeline.
And protected like a damsel in distress.
All I feel is pain,
Right here in my Chest.