I remember the look in our eyes.
The way they gleamed when we saw one another.
The way a child sees the open world.
Full of wonder and endearment.

I remember the way our stares held.
We would drink each other in with every stolen glance.
Beaming when our looks were caught adrift.

I remember the way those eyes shed rivers of tears and I assured you that we would see our way through.

I remember when I found myself shaking on the bathroom floor with the bottle in my hands.
The softness that those auburn irises showed me; compassion instead of judgement.

I remember when those same eyes found themselves yearning for new scenery.
To be caught glancing at another.
To be shown a new light, to see again for the first time.

I remember when you stopped looking at me.
My body begged to feel even just a glance. Even one full of contempt would have been better than never being seen again.
Even a the slightest sliver of sunshine would have been better than the ceaseless darkness you’ve left me in.

So now I wander this world alone. A blinded fool, reaching out for you.

Oh, mother, my bones ache and my muscles tire
My vessel is young; yet fleeting and failing
My soul has long since aged and been lost to the years
I am ready to sleep and find peace in the night
With every step my knees buckle under the weight of this journey

Oh, mother, your son is begging for your blessing
Let me wander no longer through this perilous realm
Allow me to fall into memory, to fade with the wind

Oh, mother, you brought this body into this world, with your tender love and care
But it is in this body that my despairing soul is ensnared

Oh, mother, give me your permission to concede from this quest
I beg of you, dear mother, let me lay down to rest

Lying on clouds
The morning sun bathing my skin
I smell you all around
I feel your soft skin up against mine
I brush my hands against you
My body aches for you
I pull you in closer
You press that magnificent *** against me
I groan low, and nuzzle your neck
I kiss your cheek and gently say “good morning beautiful” as my hand moves up your thigh.

I awake to the sound of my own voice.

Instead of clouds I’m laying on a thin slab of foam that makes up this futon.
The sun is beating down on me, leaving no shadow for my shame to hide.
The room smells like a full ashtray and stale beer.
I reach over for you but I only find an endless sea of empty space.
I roll onto my back, my body aches and my joints crack.
I extend my calloused, unwashed hand out to a half empty glass of bourbon.
Maybe this will help me get back to that dream of you.

But I can chase this ***** as long as I want, I’ll never catch up to you.

And you’re never coming back.

“I can’t wait to never see you again.”

I thought, before I noticed your bed was empty and your car gone.

Wondering where you’d gone this time, and wishing you’d come home.

So I could beg you to leave.

You’ve been gone all weekend, probably with your new man.
As to why I’m sitting here waiting, I’ll never understand.

I cleaned the house.
Scrubbed the toilets.
I even made you dinner.
And you couldn’t care less.

How good was it, that you’re still not home this late on a Sunday?
I just want you to notice.
I just want to  be seen, like “check out the porcelain, that’s quite a sheen!”

I want to go back to my old friends, a tall bottle and my knife.
I want to feel the burning of the liquor, and the cold of the steel.
I want to make manifest the pain you cause me, so I can feel something real.

Less than a six pack and surely I’d be ready for the noose.
The tree out back should be sturdy enough.
My limbs would lie steady, before the tree’s would come loose.

Will you let my loved ones have my things?
Would you come to my funeral?
Would you spit out my name in front of your new lovers door; and forget my existence, now and evermore?

Teach me how to care less. How to be cunning, conniving and cold.  
So I can take this knife to my throat, without seeing my mother’s face.
Teach me how to care less.
So I can bleed out on our floors, like a worthless disgrace.

If I let it all go, and find myself in hell.
Just know that I’ll be waiting.

When years have passed and you’ve forgotten my name.
When you’ve moved on to new lovers and abandoned them; all the same.

When you’re tired and lonely and old and dying.
When your callous, poisoned heart finally gives out.

I will claw my way through the wastes.
Past tormented souls and demons too, nothing will stop me hunting for you.

And as you stand at the edge, waiting for the boatman.
I will reach up from the depths, and drown you in the river styx.

I ******* hate you.

Walking down the edge of a moonlit beach
I feel the cool sands shifting beneath my feet

Father once warned me to stay clear of the sea
But I’m already drowning, what difference is it to me?

The breeze runs through my hair.
I hear the crashing of waves, and smell salt in the air.

I walk slowly to the waters edge, ankle deep in the tide.
The waters wash against my skin and send chills down my spine

It’s but gentle reminder, of what is to come - and my only escape, from the things that I’ve done.

I’m up to my neck now, and there’s no turning back
The moonlight fades out and my vision goes black

I feel a sigh of relief as I release my last breath
And let the seas take me, into the darkest of depths.

I would douse every memory of you in gasoline.

I would torch every photo, every tangible item that reminds me of you.

I would curse your name, choking as my lungs filled with acrid smoke.

I would burn this place to the ground.

I would die amongst the flames along with our love. Just to haunt the ashes of what once was.

I would do this.....if I thought it would mean a ******* thing to you.

Look at you, growing so fast.
I would not actually know though.
Because our time together only one day, did it last.

I know you're happy, with your mom, and your dad.
I hope that you get everything you wish for.
They were really great people so I'm sure it can't be bad.

One day, if you find me, I'll explain to you why.
Why you were given away, the day you were born.
Now, 5 years later, I sit on my tailgate and cry.
I think about all the days since, that have passed me by.
But I know it's for the better, for you and for I.

One hundred and thirteen days since my last sip.
And it only took me one day to finally jump ship.
No matter how long I'm sober, nor how much I drink.
Will ever allow me the clarity to see the way that you think.
So here's to relapse, and the misery inbound.
Because girl I'll never stop you from runnin' around.

Ninety-two days, since my last drink.
The first week I was stranded.
Lost in a desert, parched.

The coldest, freshest water was dust in my mouth.
I couldn't quench my thirst.
Nothing brought that refreshing sensation;
That overwhelming elation that my first beer had each day.

Whenever I took my first sip, I felt enlightened.
My soul beemed with joy.
Nothing else mattered after that first sip.
All the word was irrelevant compared to me and my drink.

And that was the problem.
It was all irrelevant.
Beer was my partner.
Scotch was my lover.
Brandy, my best friend.

And I, was an alcoholic.
I AM, an acoholic.
Ninety-two days into recovery.
Ninety-two days into the rest of my life.

With tears in your eyes, you begged me to stay.
I said "I love you girl, but no ******* way."
For months and months, I've been hoping you'd see.
That the way that you are is just killing me.
It might **** me to leave you, I might **** myself.
But even taking my life is better than being left on  your shelf.

I walked into the room

*******.......on the coats

*********

Fate. That our paths have seperated.

Rage. Misguided anger hides your insecurities and cowardice.

Intentions. Were always for the best, but we knew this day would come.

Empathy. You lack. Those who help guide you most come second to your arrogance and pride.

Never. Again will I lend my hand.

Dead. You'd might as well be.

Walk into the tavern.
I order a shot and a beer.
Dimly lit bar but my eyes can see clear.
Drinking my whiskey and ale.
I'm biding my time.
Because intoxication for me is an equation for crime.
My plans for tonight don't include going away.
But I can't call them plans, I do this every day.
I sit back and get loose, avoid the gazes of strangers.

It's quarter to midnight and I'm nearly **** drunk.
I wonder if I'll ever get out of this funk.
Although I don't really want to, I love living like this.
Sitting at the dive bar in my half drunken bliss.

Walking down the alleyways I follow you home.
Smoking a cigarette, the ember burning as fierce as my intentions.
Smooth smoke, clearing my head.
If it weren't for the clarity you'd already be dead.

A predator turned prey, you should have never gone astray.
Because I'm in the business of killing and today is your day.

Things get exciting, my heart starts to race.
Closing the gap between us, increasing my pace.
I pull the knife from my coat.
Grab your greasy hair in my fist and I swiftly slit your throat.
A river of blood sprays across the street.
Your life now taken, my vengeance is complete.

Dust the cobwebs off my eyes.
Winter is over, take off this hibernation disguise.
Step into the sun and feel rejuvinated.
Months of frost and dark thoughts have left me feeling jaded.
Breathe in the warm air and feel the life resonate within.
I feel alive and cleansed from the burdens of sin.
Stretch out my arms and reach up to the sky.
I fell to my knees and started to cry.
Thinking of those moments that I wanted to fade away.
Filled with praise that I lived until this sunny day.

Time has never been a friend to me.
The ticking clock is but a reminder of my anxiety.
Madness stricken as I race against times' sands.
Days spent chasing the passing hours no one truly understands.
That only after it passes do we discover of our time was well spent.
Wasting life away is the one act you can't repent.

She tells me how much she hates when I run off like this.
I can barely hear her words, mind racing, as my hand grips the blade in my fist.

She will never understand the language of vengeance and fury.
Leaping out of the window I hit the streets in a hurry.

A conscious man would gather his thoughts and plan first.
But I'm drifting in a dream of retribution and bloodthirst.

Walking amongst the fog
I see nothing but my fears
Lungs choking on the smog
I have been lost in here for years

Seeing only shimmers of light
I'm struggling to find the way
I become colder and darker every night
Searching for the words to say

Unsure if I can make it all alone
Harvester of my own life and the seeds of death I have sown