When I am in pain
Time is a thief
With thick fingers
Squeezing every droplet
From my beating heart

When I am happy
Time is a thief
With nimble fingers
Stealing the moments
That will never come again

When I am angry
Time is the *****
That is ******* me off

And when I am apathetic
I wish that time
Was the greatest thief
So it could steal me
Away from myself

Shadows form and flicker
Bodies moving in the night
Her presence lingers on my mind
Impression of her hand in mine
The smell of her strawberry breath
I awake and even the conscious thought of her is gone
Only in dreams can I see her
Only in slumber do I know her

For you I bleed poetry
As the red depths flow from my wrists
Words that strive and persist
To touch your heart
Mastering metaphorical starts
That drain as I strain
To purge pain from my brain
Passion shortens the strings of my life
But fate can wait because I am a fire alive
I bleed poetry for you
Scratching the deep dark wounds
Exposing the scars that used to keep me bound
Until the light of expression was found
This journey can hurt like a knife in the eye
But that pain is the juice that helps me to write
I bled for you, fed on truths to help you through
And when I cease to do what I do
That will be the day when you know
That the shadow of life has been expunged from my soul
Remember, I loved you with poetry

I’ve searched the evening tides for you
the seams of you in dreams
My pixie rose plucked for petals

It was in the distance of you that fed me
As if you could satisfy the insatiable

To relish in the depth of this oblivion
How sweet the spell comes

I could barely hear the wailing
Your body broken in delicate moments
Drifting from me like a pretty ghost

Here you are again
My favorite lonely one
Dispelling the void between us
With this song

I pace myself in search of a moment:

I seek the day as a man,
The sun at 5p.m. with ripened
Sweat,
A cold beer with hard hat at my side,
A few words with a co worker
As though brothers in arms,
The sweet smell of dinner
In a place called home,
The run of my children toward
Me as though a hero, daily.
The kiss of my wife as she fought her
Own battle,
And the evening when I realise
The moments are not moments,
But a momentum;

I savor the journey.