I would forget you right now
I would leave these feelings behind
If it wasn't for the way you looked at me

I would put this all in the past
I would abandon all hope that I have
If it wasn't for the things you said to me

I would rather miss The Train than mess this up
I would force the words back down my throat
If it wasn't for the way you stared at me

The way you hugged me


The surprise on your face when you'd seen how I've grown



I would forget I ever felt this way
If you hadn't acted like you didn't feel it too


So welcome home my friend
It's never been better to see you

With ink and pen I write what
I believe to be true
I once typed that I was nearly
100% sure I was to marry you

But now I feel
It's not fact
And I will
Probably
Never get you back
And nearly 100% of me
Is ok with that.

Through all my lives I've loved you.
With each one you were my constant.     You were always there.

What's happened?
In this life I only have the dream.
There's never a face

I feel you,
     I sense you,
          I know you.

This life can be no different.
You are out there.
I keep thinking I've found you, but.....
it's not right,
not you.

I think I'm learning though, I need to stop looking for you.
To stop the search and just let it happen.
It's not I who has to find you, it's we who will find one another.

It won't be right
   You won't be right
        We won't be right
Until we find each other.
Then, the face that is missing
will be seen.

Benedict wheeled Anne
out the back gate
of the nursing home.

The sea was calm,
the tide was out.
He pushed her wheelchair
along the path by the beach.

He could smell the salt
in the air, the mild breeze
through his well kempt hair.

She sat with her hands in her lap;
she wore a blue skirt, her one
leg showed from knee down.  

You’re not a very exciting pusher
of wheelchairs are you, she said.
My old gran could push me quicker.

I don’t want you falling out, Benedict said.
Don’t be a fucking weed, Kid,
push me; I want the air in my face,
the wind up my nose, she said,
grabbing the arms of the chair
and shaking them. So he pushed
her quicker, his puny arms giving
it all they could, his legs like frail
pistons moving quickly onward.

That’s it, she bellowed, faster,
faster, Kid, get those lazy legs
of yours bloody moving.  

He pushed harder and gathered
speed, his hands holding on
to the handlebars for dear life.

They had covered a good distance
in a short time and he had to take
a break for breath. What’s a matter
got a puncture? she said. No, he said,
out of breath. Well bloody rest then, Kid.

He turned the wheelchair round
to face the sea. Then stood beside
her looking out at the horizon.
The blue sky, grey clouds, gulls
in the air. This is the life, Kid, she
bellowed This is fucking living.

He said nothing; her language
stung his ears. His mother would
have washed his mouth out
with soap for saying such.

There were people on the sands;
some in deckchairs, some standing
gazing out to sea; kids with buckets
and spades making sand castles,
some swimming, some throwing
a ball to each other. Look at that fat tart
over there with her swimsuit on,
Anne said, pointing to a woman
standing with a man on the sea’s edge,
bet they had to pour her into that,
she added. Benedict said nothing.

He looked down at Anne’s one leg
sticking out of her blue skirt.
She looked up at him. Help me up
and out, she said. He took her hands
and pulled her upwards and she
swayed slightly, but then managed
to stand erect on her one leg,
the wheelchair behind her.

Should have brought my bloody
crutches, she said. Sorry, he said,
didn’t know you wanted to get out.
You’ll just have to hold me up then
won’t you, she said. She put her right
arm around his shoulder and he let go
of her hands. There we go; you can be
my crutch, she said. He could feel her
arm about his shoulder, her weight on him.

You’re a good mate, Kid, she said.
She kissed his cheek. None of those
nursing sister would have wheeled me
out along here not for all the bloody
rosaries in Rome, she said. He smiled.

He could feel the damp patch of skin
where her lips had been. They stood
gazing out at the sea together, she swayed
slightly on her one leg, he sensed her
nearness; wanting to be stronger,
he stood firmer, his feet planted deeper
in the sand. Then he sensed her stump
beneath her skirt, rub gently against his hand.

Do you remember the way I couldn't keep my eyes off you?
The way that I couldn't keep my hands off you?
How a smile crossed my face when you were in sight?
My God, I couldn't even feel your warmth because it was a spark to my sexy imagination.
Do you remember my texts?
My pictures?
My late night outfits?
Dinners?
Dancing?
Oh how crazy I was about you!
It was almost love..

Almost.

I remember how suddenly you just stopped calling.
I remember how I was left waiting for you to pick me up on Saturday night.
I remember you stopped answering.
How you stopped trying.
You wouldn't even hold my hand.
Ii remember how I would call you and you wouldn't answer
You just left...

Gone.

Now you're back, and as much as I wish we could get back what we had, you see; its gone.
You missed this train.

You could have been the one, enjoying, celebrating life, but you missed it.
It's gone, and almost doesn't count.

"Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much, that he died every night to let her breathe."

How interesting that story is.
Though I don't really know
If the plot Is realistic enough
To pertain to my
Plain life.

But I can tell you a tale
Of a damsel in distress
Waking up groggy
Looking for her dress.
Glancing at her greasy hair
In a mirror that had a tendency to stare.

A story of a girl who died everyday
Waiting for a kiss to bring her alive.
A kiss that happened a few times and some
But she'd still go home and cry
When she would again, feel numb.

She doesn't remember a time
When she wasn't a piece of meat.
A time when she could talk to a guy
And not expect it to end in
Who will go down when they meet.

She is so used and doesn't have the strength
To say no anymore, or make them wait.
She's waiting now for someone new to come around
And take her breath away.
With big hands and a pair of lips
That kiss her in just that way.

OMG! my brother, is so destructive, he treats even a jewel like its rubbish
he is soo stubborn, he gets under my skin like sunburn, but in the end he's still my brother.
i wouldnt have in any other, why? cuhz he down for the fam like southern? lol  

i realized people you can never govern but even currently as he proceeds to walking on the second story on his FREAKEN KNEES! i realize i must make a compromise that there might be something about me he doesnt agree with,, so lets avoid the conflict cuhz it looks like a slippery cliff,,, wtf is he doing upp there sounds like artillery ships and shit!!!, im about to throw this fit,, but my homeboy like na flames here smoke this spliff,, na NAGA my mind is a gift and you kn ow im trying to quit!,, witch brings me across the next subject,,, i suspect my inner demons which demoralize my drive to subside with most high take my closest friends minds for a joyride,,, undercover like a spy to poison my ambitions to stay sober im so bipolar, being high is mediocre but when mind is clear i tend to turn into that ogre,,,i feel as if all is hopeless,,, i live in the moment i live in the ocean,, i think my name is Joseph,, and i sleep on my best friend sofas,,, i dont know where this story is going, long as i continue typing i guess its my way of coping i guess its my way of invoking,,,,