My poems are like night and day.
One happy the next sad.
One full of hope and light.
The next one dark and depressing.
Night and day.
Light and dark.
Hope and agony.
There is no in between.

The spirit is dark.
Vile
We all have it in us
*unpleasable nature

Don’t listen to those demons late at night, sweet girl.
They dig their claws in because they know it’s when your worst decisions are made.
Don’t let them trick you into thinking you’re the problem, my darling.
They just want you to be afraid.

I feel the wanting
as you are haunting...
my lustful, needy...
greedy..
thoughts

I know I really hadn't ought
to think this way
of things to do when down we lay
and about your warm & rugged arms
keeping me from any harm

I'm swallowed by seductive charms
defenseless you're
whispering the sky my name
know of me ...my secret shame
this need...we share?

words said kerning
we're bothered,
....yearning
I  am bare
for you..
I feel a need to share with you
could we face
  our darkness together?

on gloomy tides of stormy weather
is written on the Dead Sea Scrolls
a love of two who seem the same,
shared in us our
heart and souls?
I have wandered far looking...

So should we
take a chance and try
instead of always wondering why?
would we
be any good for one another
a raging fire burning
unwanted things unlearning
Could we
find of pure desire
light the lovers hottest fires?

or flames go out we tamper,
smother?
left smoldering
shouldering our way,
and left...
we never learned
ready to rise
and ready to
.....be BURNED?

Cherie Nolan © 2016

My boy cinnamon was brave
But he wasn't enough