And I'm cold in my bed
Tired
Pillow covered in tears because that's where they're used to falling
And I just want to be loved

And I know I am by my friends
And my family
But I want to be stuck in someone's head
And I want them to rub my arm and make me a little bit less cold
And maybe have my tears land on their shoulder instead

I want to be the poem and not the poet for once

you only ever call --
when she doesn't answer
to your pleas.
i pick up anyway,
just to hear
a voice --
one that won't
choose me.

In the ocean of life, I'm caught up in the waves                                        and they come crashing down on me every day                                                              ­                                                         Sometimes I can swim with it and stay above                                                            ­                                                       all  of the negativity it's made of                                                               ­    There  are the days where I almost drown,                                                           ­                                          everything in life is weighing me down                                                             ­                                                      I  reach for my life line, reach for hope,                                                            ­   but there's no one there at the end of the rope                                            Weather beaten tired and torn                                                             ­                 I am caught up in life's storm

I suppose it’s a good thing
That I don’t gamble
Because I would’ve lost it all
Betting on us

"I don't live in moments
Moments live in me.."
This is what my dear friend
recently said to me

At first the wisdom was lost
like pouring perfume on a pig
or acid from a large dropper
into the eyes of poor old Syd

At first the fuses burned
an electric acrid smell
but soon I understood the logic
behind the diagnosis of a living hell

Losing movement every day
to a disease called MND
such an injustice and imbalance...
Such a tragedy

Yet his smile is still contagious
but I see the truth behind his eyes
even the most beautiful wild flowers
slowly wither and die

Such a hard hand dealt
to a man so bold and brave
too many tragedies in one life
too many flowers surrounding graves

If you're not the fighting type
Don't put our hearts in the line

𝐈
𝐍ever
𝐅igured that
𝐀
𝐓eensy tiny
𝐔ndeveloped
𝐀ttraction would
𝐓urn
𝐈nto
𝐎vert
𝐍ausea