A name can be home to many faces.
It conjures memories, feelings
and long forgotten places.
It's sad hearing yours, although I
still smile.
'Cause I was glad to have known you,
If only for awhile.

A small bit of contact
held on too long
Wince or write another angry song
'Cause after twice a lapse in trust
you'd have all been turned to cruft
After all, 'twas me did fall
................

Had you forgotten?

.................
Or was it me, seemed skinned the knee?
Now dead was the fly and buzz in the bee
Sigh of air and glimpse of hair
'Twas dusk till moonlight  brought me there
Heavy rain, tainted blame
Broken drain on the window pain
That same rain, did keep me tame
Keep me tame with ball and chain
That small bit of contact
Oh a challenge failed
To be ignored or to be inhaled

Life is bitter sweet, though always there for the most delicate moments
Through the short bursts of truth that will leave you cold on the bathroom floor
covered in shaving foam and your own blood
The spinning record that tells you to cut your hair and to give up on her
It doesn't have that B-side you wanted  
Yes, life is Bitter sweet
Said the cab driver on the way to hospital
A close call was not enough
To hide that family secret
But bandages hid it well enough
Velvet linens and a torn Hallmark card must have made the day
After a promise to be polite
a swallow of another aspirin and a bus ride home
try another dose of razorblades until there are no more feelings left

Red bricks
That is what I see now
when I think about it
Sitting there watching the sun drop lower than the mountains
On that newly cut grass
Crisp but comforting
Laced with hope and simplicity
Where the jigsaw pieces of my mind all fitted perfectly into place
And the dark tangles in my brain were still made of plush red silk

If only being happy was more of a challenge...
That might have made it a nicer evening
If instead of red bricks to catch the dying sunlight
There had been bullets to dodge
Or a war to fight  
Maybe that would that have made things better for you

But the snapshot I have made of it must be askew
there are things I certainly don't remember saying or doing
I doubt there even were any bricks there that night
More likely some sort of red contextual bookmark
Or maybe a romantic symbol in the whirlwind of worlds that exist inside of my head

The grange had got it's new tenants at last
Swiftly approaching it's great gates
They were a beef eating bunch of a bloodline
horse and carriage and all
Driven by a shirtless whip in sunburnt skin and an ivy cap
The sun above a dreadful shade of burning peach and sky of sickest sea blue

The master twiddled his thumbs as he leaned out the window
Watching the gate part
The letter open on his desk
Not as much as an telephone call
Just a stack of notes and a newspaper clipping
Smartly closed in red sealing wax
Did they not know what had happened here just a year before?

_________

At lunchtime in five weeks
All was not well
Not one bit
The garden swing hung off it's hinge
Creaking in a minor key
Drops of blood the same shade as sealing wax disrupted the floral wallpaper which lay abandoned on the garden path
lumps of earth were roughly dispersed
Four lumps
For that one bloodline  
One year, five weeks and a few lonely hours