The stereotypical
Crimson flowing down a page
But that’s all I want to write about
I want to feel the relief it would bring
I know the addiction would begin again
But at least then
I’d have those thoughts filling my mind
Instead of whatever these muted thoughts
Are

She followed him home from
the casino
because he
swore he was a gambling addict

A true gambler

he lived only to gamble

Never missed a chance to declare it

"I like gamblers," she
said. "Love 'em to death."

He was all
smiles

and then she continued, "Say, what
about a little gamble
of our own? You down for that?"

"Baby," he said, "long as it's a
gamble I'm down to hells
and below, haha."

Once in the room
she climbed on the bed
and removed her clothes
and shuffled through her purse
and pulled out about a dozen
hypodermic needles

"What you doin' with those?"
he asked

She grinned at him
and spread her
legs and pointed between them
"I'll stick some of 'em
here in these lips. Your part
of the gamble is to
turn off the lights and slide
your way between 'em. Let's go, gambler.
Oh, and no fingers. It's
an all-or-nothing gamble."

Your the one person who is supposed to always give me it
From the beginning all the way to the end
Why am I looking in other places?
I create ways to cope
Your love is absent
So that means my food has to be
Your love is like a knife in my chest
So that means i have to bring a blade to my arm
Your love is so painful
Because it is never there
You only play theater when others are around

I could write a letter
But what would I say
That my heart is in my hands beating?
No one would understand
It’s not just from missing him
He frustrated me to the point of
Destroying myself
I talked to him for only a day
He seemed like the piece
To complete the puzzle
I call me

The fence I used to walk through everyday
The lawn
My brother was brought to his knees at
You held him down
Yelling because he knew the truth
Years later you think none of that matters
When you are still drinking
You may have done worse things then
You are still an addict
You wonder why I can’t speak to you
Every time I write out what to say
All I can think of is
You
Laying on the king sized futon
While I watched
To make sure you would breathe
Another breath

The last time they visited him
in the hospital,
mother made the big
announcement

She was once more
pregnant

at 44

Hoping for a second son
of course

Because the first son
aged 21
was such a failure, of course

He will never become
anything worthwhile
Not from this hospital bed
with a broken hip
and spine

It wouldn’t have happened
if his dream
wasn’t to make it big
in the gang

But his dream was to
make it big in the
local street gang
Serving the ******* goddess and
hustling his way to the top

Well it was all fine
until that one deal that
went horribly wrong

People die when they stop
dreaming

Now he dreamed to just
die already

Surely his brother will choose
a better dream. He
had to

You don't need someone
To show you the way
You just need some strength
To find your own way
Worlds can collide
In this one
Nothing stands still
For anyone
So, find your own way
And maybe someday
You will be free
To find your love
Because worlds can collide
In this one
And nothing stands still
For anyone
Move closer to the truth
You seek
Closer to the heart
In everything
Follow your way
Closer to free
It's inside
Of you
A strength

And sometimes
It's so quiet
Awake in the dark
And sometimes
It's only the presence
Of something
Past
So, find your own way
At last.

If I put my hand
On the fogged glass
Will it erase words
So crass
Will it uncover
Clearness
Where there once
Was a strange menagerie
Over the lake's horizon
In a fuscia-water coloured vision
Waking in the early morning
To this realness
Come to life
Had to escape it
And face what
Has passed
Leave it all behind
If I place my sight
In the right place
These fears might slip away
But my dear
Our world is-
A gray-washed haze
My hand releases
From the mirror's grasp
My eyes see through
To what it was at last