It's 3am

I'm on the phone
No one's awake and I'm alone

It's 3am

The radio's on
Songs are played on lonely station

It's 3am

I'm in my bed
My eyes are open and sleep has fled

It's 3am

I'm on the balcony
The sky is dark and just quite scary

It's 3am

Some windows have lights
Could they also not sleep tonight

It's 3am

I'm still awake
When will life ever give me a break

Dear, gentle Hunter
You cried when you killed me
Your desperation I see,
Battling the kindness in your eyes.

Dear, gentle Hunter
You lay your hand on me
Softening my fear with your touch
Your need was greater than mine.

Dear, gentle Hunter
You pulled the arrow from my side
To passify my pain
Your love of the world showing plain.

Dear, gentle Hunter
You looked for a fawn before you shot
Thinking of the children of your own
The winter would take them if not for me

Dear, gentle Hunter
You took everything you could,
Nothing would be wasted
Your gratitude obvious

Dear, gentle Hunter
I willingly give you myself
Let me give you the peace of knowing
I have the serenity of my worth

As I lie here
With eyes closed softly
I think deeply of you
And I inhale stars
The scent of twinkling light
So fresh and alive
Sparkling gentle inside me
And I want to write this feeling
So tentatively
As it must be
Like writing words on bubbles
Delicate and precious
Begging them not to disappear
Like dreams in the morning

                                        By Phil Roberts

(read forward, then backward, line by line)

I ran.
Not knowing what else to do
There was so much blood on my hands
It was mine
The kitchen knife
Caught in my chest
Guilt
Consumed by
Fear
I was heightened by
Adrenaline
But running on
Wasn’t enough
While trying to stay calm,
Losing control
It was me that would end up
Dead. Because
He was
In front of me
The whole time
It was too late
Trapped
I found myself
Locked in chains
My fate was
Death.

I limit my words because my actions don't catch up right on time.
I'm guilty of being late.
I admit.
And what hurts the most is that the receiver believes I'm incapable of matching the two.

I felt like wind, void of soul
transient, moving thing
all the blowing around
with waves and shores
under moons and silent,
awaiting certain suns.

Only a sound outside the window
chimes and bells, nothing to grasp
though felt, a warm wind,
a chill splitting cold.

Go ahead
hold me a little longer
than usual.
You say to me,
without using any
words at all,
"it should have been me,
its still me."
Like i don't already see
those sky blue eyes
every time i close my own.
Because we're still holding
on to god knows what.
Because it is you
and it will always be you.