Falling, fingers waving in the breeze
Lying down next to your failing body
Over my head you're a tidal wave
Waking up, smiling through painful eyes.
Every breath is closer to your passing
Reminisce with me before your clock shudders slowly... and breaks.


26th October 2016

The wind speaks in warnings
Passed fast from leaf to leaf.
The rustle of the undergrow
Stirs firm in disbelief.
Pitters and patters scatter
The fallen pain.
The last acorn of the season
Falls,
A final act of treason.
A beacon among the coming rain.

Be strong, oh weathered anchor
Of a mind adrift at sea
Hold firm this home on murky depths
As familiar waves lap hungrily

Cry not, oh weathered anchor
Of a mind adrift at sea
As glimpses of a life once known
Ebbs and morphs deviously

Fear not, oh weathered anchor
Of a mind adrift at sea
The fight to grasp what once was known
Tattered image drips menacingly

Let go, dear weathered anchor
Of this mind adrift at sea
Slip gently asunder the past now lost
Unbound from memories, floating free.

go glory
worm like
growth
until you
outshine the morning

I count
your petals
and
await that
day we our splendor

becomes
the thing
how
unrequited
we are in waiting

for morn-
ing  un-
til
our beauty
comes full bloom

from the
dirt keen
proud
standing tall
in the morning.

is there a condition
where one can overdose on empathy
on caring
until tears become a malady

Until others hearts
are nearly more important
than ours
and we **** up our life

is that or
could it be an addiction
to seek maybe sad things
and others pain

subconsciously
trying to alleviate
our own?

I am wondering
if I need an intervention.

You will not steal these tears from behind my eyes.

Grace was not all there
in the way society looks at people
nor in the know
she rode that little bus to school

yet she drew pretty little
pictures on the walls at home
and wrote the saddest songs
on toilet paper
or whatever she could find

she once went to the river
when her mom had
gone grocery shopping

and found a grasshopper
and  brought him home

and drew a perfect picture
of a small insect on top of the world
reaching for the sun
and the moon
I think I understand
her

I feel each heartbeat like a wardrum
Echoing across empty fields like a
Battle cry sung from the mouths of soldiers
Desperate to come home
I hear each breath like the wind in the willows beside me
Whispering short and shallow in time
With the rise and fall of my chest
I am awake
But I do not wish to be
Oh to fall asleep
To see that endless night cover my eyes
A starless blanket
A moonless darkness
A welcome friend
Who for too long has stayed away
I will welcome you with open arms
Sleep my love why do you allude me so
Like a scorned lover you refuse to come
So I sit and listen to my internal drum

Dark circles like craters under paled lids sweep softly the surrounding flesh and linger from day to day, refusing to give up their hold

is the cure the solution the be all
if I knew what the question was
I might not need as many answers