I like this pub.
Not too loud so you can't think.
Not too quiet so that you can't
help but think.

An old Cambridge pub called
the Portland Arms.
I've recently taken to drinking
whiskey straight, enjoying the burn.

The music is mediocre but
the people seem genuine enough.
Not that that matters anyway
when you're drinking alone.

watching memories like cinemas
smiling
frowning
laughing
drowning
long lasting until they're over
for moments are sweetest while basking inside them

The song swells in a crescendo
Soaring to heights unreached by any soul before
Calling forth from the farthest depths of my heart
Emotions unexplored by centuries of human war

When trees out in the open field
Become covered
From heavy snow
Limbs start to droop and
Break
And some how speak to me
When blue/gray shadows emerge
When the weeping begins
and ends
So I Stop here now
and stand still
Frozen
It’s dark
Blackbirds sit and stare,
It’s not time
Though I climb over high walls
Wanting,
To pass this time again
When unchartered roads are taken
When white woven pearl doors open
I am sunken
Yet saved
able to dream
With no Regrets
Of this sudden defeat
When the ocean accepts my ashes

I would hope
that no one would read my mind
or hold on to a grudge
But what is left
not in final meaning
but in my explanation
of my open wounds
My heart floats
on ice
in hills
Basking on spreadsheets
And analysis
I am not wanted
Knowing that
Something
Ominous
Hangs  
above me,
and confides in me
I am unattached
Just like death  
Or when autumn
Dies quickly
Or your soul
stays around
Without warning
my hands held
to open skies
I turn and walk away
soaked in my own memory

the sun will always shine after the rain
as pleasure will appear after the pain
for I am the calm before the storm
seems as if I was doomed before I was even born
they say how can you be so sad with your type of charm?
I tell them my heart is dislocated and my soul is torn.