There is a hole right there in the middle bit of me like a Russian doll a life within a life barely breathing don’t come too close you could fall right in deeply into the empty of me Others have. Save yourself Walk away..,,..
This just might be what it’s really All about Not the great brilliant lights Or the dark desperate lows The rights The wrongs The lies The unfolds This just might be all it’s about Nothing more than Sitting here Being still drinking gin Alone With you
Someone once told me a poem should be long rhythm and thyme and take a long time so love and regret pain and explain delete and blame repeat and destain let go and restrain sunsets and more two people or four fall down then soar sweetness and gore does this really say more than I love you whatever the score!
When autumn reigned and blew golden bronze tumble leaves right to my door it reminded me of how you loved golden bronze tumble leaves at the door Do you still?
those who believe in love take one step to the right those who are burnt take one step to the left those who still believe stampede straight ahead headlong into the middle .
When you find yourself in the inkwell of life navy dark blue drowning the light be glad you are but a few drowning in the liquid that brings words to life
We can’t be lovers We can’t quite be friends We just flaunt around Enemies instead dressed up like clowns prancing about dancing endlessly effortlessly entertainingly betraying Challanging the braying crowd.
Don’t say you are leaving I am already at the door don’t say you are bleeding I already hold the sore don’t say you didn’t mean it I already know the score don’t say you are sorry I already already already I already love you more
The words that fall from my mouth should only be for me yet they rain upon your head like an untuned symphony and somehow you turn my words into a tune
Every wound has a culprit Every scar knows exactly who they are You are mine You hurt You scarred Deeply Inside my heart Then you moved As I bled And bled Into the dead grey night Eventually I made it home Staggering Slowly And lowly Battle weary And exhausted Into my newly very well made Empty And now ridiculously Ambitious Bed.
Words and phrases swirling Frantically Inside my head Given to me so freely I want to return the gift So they can dance to another tune In another time In another room I want to set them free So they can fly And I can watch them soaring way up high.
You talk about love like it’s real like folk can be happy together you talk about love like it’s okay to feel happy you talk about love like it’s real like things can work out okay like no one hates the day you talk about love like it’s real like it could happen anyway any day anytime anywhere how bizarre you talk about love like it’s real.