I can still feel
The emotional marks you left
On my mind, in my brain.
I can see the marks you never left on my body

Nothing I do to you
Will fix that.
Nothing I could do to harm myself
Would fix that
Nothing I do to you will fix that.

So how do I fix myself?

"I can't overpower you"
I would say to a kind man.
"You would never have to!"
He would reply, eyes wide open
nothing there I haven't heard before
I think to myself

The Post-Traumatic brain
Does not wait around.
It is always pro-active.
I could defend myself
Against a smaller man.
But not the giants I feel so drawn to.

The body wants, what the body wants.

I'd be easy bait for him.
Why couldn't it be differently?
To fight
Or to flight?

Or to face the challenge
And trust
That not all men
Who carry guns
Use them to shoot you?

You go to church on Sunday
And then you've done your part.
Instead of saying “I hate that *****
You just say “Bless her heart.”
Monday starts the week anew
With dog-eat-dog intention.
Live and let live and the like
Seldom rates a mention.

Help the poor and needy
Doesn't pull too much weight
When measuring by dollar signs
To decide what is truly great.
The Bible verses get changed:
“Do unto others” is rewritten
To “Do what we can get by with.”
Thus is the common man smitten.

So you allow the Congress
To do whatever they want:
Outlaw our rights and rob us,
Laugh at us and then flaunt
That nobody can touch them
As they bleed the land dry.
We're just to bless their hearts
While the watch us slowly die.

We can keep on pretending
That everything is just,
Then go to church on Sunday
And brag about “In God we trust”,
Or we could wake the hell up
And start to participate
In what used to be our country
Right now before it's too late.

But that would mean standing up
And not just going along
And not following on party lines
Not singing the downtrodden song.
It means questioning our leaders,
But, you see, right there is the rub.
If we stop ourselves from being robbed
We can't belong to the Hypocrite Club.

she says that his smile melts her heart.

and boy if you think literal, she is in real

trouble.

physical.



she says it looks more like a rhinceros, probably.



it does, because it is a

rhinoceros.



these things.



sbm.

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul

Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free

They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue

Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free

They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night

You took your life, as lovers often do
But I could've told you Vincent
This world was never meant for
One as beautiful as you

Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frame-less heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget

Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of ****** rose
Lie crushed and broken on the ****** snow

Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free

They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will

Written by Don Mclean • Copyright © Universal Music Publishing Group

as your shine your you your pretty face
in the morning waking next to me
softly your eyes open and I hear
angel songs and wonder how I made it before
I found your beautiful
this peace of heaven alive
sleepy eyed getting
prettier more mine
desirable
day after morning after nights and days
soft as rose petals
sunrises
kitty purr
and smiles
on cloudless
days
for
ever

.
So fresh his face,
Nutmeg and ginger
Like mine.  I made
Apologies for being,
Being late.

He was more than
Kind, so mannered
Like minded, unwild,
Not unpredictable,
Like my ex.

In the cafe, earthy
Smells wafted at me,
Hints of loss, of sad
Things unsaid, wet
Piney black hair.

Black hair and blue
Unfathomable eyes,
Eyes of a lad I miss,
A wildness uncaged,
Once caging me.

There are some who may prefer a cloudless sky and the touch of a warm sun. These hearts are similar climates, and you may find them at no great distance from the equator.

Not mine.

My love is for the sedge and moss covered upland of frozen lakes, where the cold white blanket covers the steppes. Peace is found here, among the ice and whispered within the biting gale as it travels over her skin.

Her chill breath touches me, and I am not driven away.
For within my chest beats a fire as black as space between the stars.

And I go unclothed, as the caribou carry me across the frozen land.

I am the horned god.