I've only got one bar
on my phone and there's only
one more between here and home.
Ten dollars in my pocket may as well
be a thousand. Like a penny
in the fusebox, I could make it last
until the lights go out. There's a cowboy
band playing. A wooden Indian
by the door. I don't think he listens
to their stories anymore. He's quiet
on the subject. He's quite an object
of curiosity. Instead of two-stepping
all night long, maybe I should take
that Indian home. Use the last bar
to call Coleen. Tell her to put a ***
of cowboy coffee on. We'll tell stories
of our own. Sing songs in the old way
about better days when we were young.

Juggling so much stuff
while keeping balanced
on a massive circus ball
which just keeps on and
on spinning. I marvel at
lovers finding the time
to fall and stay in love
I can see, now, where
vows are oh so needful.

I was falling down, my face was masked into a frown,
I was giving up, my heart had felt enough,
And as I hurt, I thought it was the end,
I never knew, that you were just around the bend.

You took my hand, and helped me stand,
And then I smiled, I knew I’d have you for a while.
You were my saving grace, told me I was not a waste,
You’re my knight in shining armour,
My one and only lover.

You kissed my cheek, made my heart weak,
And then I smiled, I knew I’d have you for a while.
You are my life, my love, you make me fly just like a dove,
You’re my knight in shining armour,
My favorite kind of charmer.

And now, I don’t know, what I would do without you.
You’ve showed me things that I never knew that I could do.

I was falling down, my face was masked into a frown,
I was giving up, my heart had felt enough,
And as I hurt, I thought it was the end,
I never knew, that you were just around the bend.

Today bears the weight of erstwhile trepidation.
Uncertainties exhumed only to be hung up as ominous flags.
Black as night my widowed heart paraded through the procession.
Garbed in ash encrusted, sequinned frock, hemmed train all tattered in rags.

Herald the face with no features yet obscured behind a chiffon veil.
In hands, a bouquet of black roses, worm-eaten to the stems.
The mourning sun only gave the weakest glow,
feeble attempt to rejuvenate all that is stale;
to imbue the shimmer back into forsaken jewels and dulled gems.

Her entourage kept up with heavy feet; all grim and sullen.
Also faceless... Armed with pitchforks and torches.
Today they will draw much; having thirst for crimson.
Today they witness her death as the black parade marches.

And I'm all ******* again.

You just don't get it.
I can't feed this addiction to you
Anymore
Because it's breaking me down.

You want to read my pages
But they're riddled with you
And you want to see my words
But they're all just your name.

And I need to learn to speak up
For myself.

When we break
our walls.
Even if we
stumble and fall.
To dare and to live.
To take and to give.
To share and to care.
To feel this love everywhere.
More emotions you can bear.
Do we have the capacity.
To live our life just as
much as we wanted to be.
I wonder sometimes.
If all our dreams will
turn into reality.
Or maybe we stay.
Forever in the delay.

The willow hangs,
drapes the ground,
dances to a tune
unheard in the hum
of cars and lorries,
in the commotion of
people passing in a
hurry, barely noticing
anything more than the
phones tapped with
fingers & thumbs.
But I notice,
I see it all,
the dance on display,
the symbol of sanity
I need today.

I want to drown myself in a pool of liquor
Sip on the corrosive liquid
Let it slither down my throat
Saver the feeling
As I goes down smoothly
Stinging like battery acid
Hot like melted plastic
More then ever, do I wished I drink
Wish I could befriend intoxication
As we walk stumbling
Hand in hand
Drink myself into an alzheimer's session
To forget these lessons
Until I lose all sense of myself
Once direction becomes a foreign language
Or I lose the ability to speak
And my name is no longer recognizable to me
More then ever, do I wished I drink