What comes of addiction
a predilection
A two times round
the same intersection
looking for an accident
a reason to get bent
out of shape
out of mind
out of the mendacious ...
...daily grind
that keeps telling all of us
you must work hard
Smile all the while
that your life is shrinking
your passbook is sinking
deeper and deeper
underwater
Take 2 weeks off
the change will do you good
but you know that behind the smile there is guile
theres no chance
to remain complete
in the face of defeat
when you and yours are addicted
afflicted with ....
a silly need to eat !

Time heals all wounds,
Unless you're dead,
Then time stops and heals nothing at all.

Memories are left stagnant,
Fading with the passing of each day,
Then time stops and the memories are gone

When laughter falls
Like snow
Blanketing the earth
When time
Births
The source of itself
Finally;
When
Help
Transforms into
An outdated term
I reach my hand out to you
And we touch
When?

I used to turn my brain off for days
But now I think in waves
Incessant slideshows


of you

I kissed a girl with a broken smile;
nothing could come near.
She carved it with a pocket knife;
slit from ear to ear.
And she wears it like her favourite scarf;
it keeps her from the cold.
So I told her its only woven by
her enemies of old.

Inside you

is where I want to

be,

thrusting

within the folds

of your mind

penetrating

the sweet softness

of your soul,

throbbing

as I release my love

deep within you.
                                     Jon York   2019.

Dear me,
Don't just sit
Rise, and pursue greatness.

Don't just watch
Go after what you want.

Don't just exist
Strive and start living.

Don't just dream
Work hard and aim for success.

Don't get tired
Keep hiking until you get to the peak.

Why do you have to be the moon?
when you can be the star with your own light!

I am the deep, the sky in reverse
I have what you seek, for better or worse

I am the blue of infinite depth
I've swallowed the crews and cleared the decks

You are afraid or maybe intrigued
Of the place where you played and also was freed

Kiss me now like you did before
Give me your vow and the ocean is yours.

God said that I was his favorite,
but the Devil leaned and whispered:
"I used to be his favorite too."

You didn't ask for this relationship
I did
You didn't want a romance
I did
You wanted it to be casual
I couldn't
I would say you want to be friends
but I don't know if you do

My first mistake
I went into our friendship with romance in my eyes

My second mistake
I didn't let my feelings die that night

I dreamt of you the day I wanted to sever that connection
My head hurts
There's a pressure in my mind
Is this what our friendship is supposed to feel like?

I can't ask anything from anyone, in the end it's their life but still
Do you value our friendship? Or is it an obligation
Do you care about me? Or am I just another person in this world
Do you enjoy my company? Or am I just another part of your anxiety

If you do value me, then we can rebuild
But if you don't, then I don't know

I don't know

you told me I don't have to be okay all the time
you told me you still loved me no matter what

its hard because I want to believe you
god, I want to trust it so badly

but every time I've put the walls down
lay down my defense

the only thing i've been left with is
ash in the wake

They’d waited too long to say

“I love you”.

3 words. 3 syllables.

Yet they held millions of emotions unspoken.

and now that they’d done it, they wouldn’t,
couldn’t, stop

they told each other all the time. In the end of the argument and before the good news.

In the middle of the storm, even though it was hard to see, and after, when the raging winds had settled on a breeze

before the rising sun turned the sky pretty colors and after it flickered out and faded away into the dark

Underneath the stars that their love had been etched into

There was no love until death for them. Because it would never stop. Their love was beyond. It rose above any border that would dare to try and stop it. There was no finish line

because they were each other’s end game.  
-L.R

a word writes my feelings, thoughts
a good friend bad or good
papa once told me
if you love someone
you would write it in words
this is to my one true love

Although I have
Nothing to say
I still want
To sit quietly
By your side
And take in
Our love

He is like the ocean
But I never learned how to swim
Now I’m drowning
In a love
I cannot contain

Mum says “light a candle, burn some incense”
but mum my inner sense is the only thing stopping me from burning myself to the ground because I can’t stand the light anymore.

Nan says “your'e too bright to be depressed”
but the bright sparks that flicker of a memory that is dark, and the flame only reminds me that everybody I love is someday gonna die.
But mum..... nan...... i’m not afraid of the dark, that’s the problem.

It’s hard to have fun when i don't feel like having fun.
Don’t get me wrong it’s not that i don’t want to go to the party,
I WANT to go to the party,
but i’m stuck in an abusive relationship with depression and anxiety and they talk me out of going.
Cancel plans last minute, making up a physical illness,
because "sorry I'm too depressed to see u" sounds utterly ridiculous.

Why is poetry dying
when we still have the gift?
If we still have water
then we still have a ship.
We can sail to the places
these words take us.
We are still shaken
by the words that make us.
Why should we let poetry die
when there is so much to explore?
If only people read it
and discovered more.

It can't be

That I will spend an entire life,
Begging for love,
Confused by anger,
Afraid of frowns,
Eager to blame,
Bored with myself,
And
Waking up dead,

Can it?

when i died the first time
inhaling an ocean
they said
this was not the plan
turn back.

and when i did
i tried to fly with no lessons
nor wings
and they called me
stubborn.

but i came round
and sought a chainsaw
and then a mermaid
and then death herself
i think she was

and each time
they said the same thing
over and over and over and over:
wrong destiny. wrong destiny.
go again.

the instructions are in a language i do not possess.

To this day,
your name
still hurts my tongue
but I still say it anyway.
Sometimes I like to
hear my soul
gently tear itself
apart.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

how long until I find another that will crack  me right open?

There's a little
boy that hides in
the dark corners of
my soul.
He doesn't want to
be hurt anymore.
I spent eight years
with Beth.
For the most part,
it was hell and
constant pain.
She made nightmares
look good.
I heard the
little boy cry
late into the
silky night,
while snails got
smashed on the streets
of Ventura.

When I drank, which was often,
the little boy seemed
at peace for awhile,
while swans were
murdered in Venice,
and I tasted the ashes
of Neruda.
Years flew by
like seagulls;
up
down
and darting.
The little boy
continued to
hide in the
dark corners of my soul.

He wanted to
come out and be loved.
He was thirsty for it,
but there wasn't
any around.
It was dry, like the
deserts in hell.
It's too late for
sorries, here comes
the plow.

He began to see
the pattern of life.
There are monsters
that walk in the light.
Vulnerability equals pain.
The little boy got mean.
And now he carries
a knife.

I'm not broken
don't throw me away

is heaven the rainbow
and hell the rain
for when I love the heaven
i fall for hell.

In the cold, dark
        of January,
         I remembered
              you
        the most.
  As the chill
      snapped bones
              like branches,
     as the afternoons
   bathed themselves
in gray,
     as the birds
and the backs
      shook,
so did my lips
   around your name.
I'm so happy
     January is almost
over now.

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.