I think,
Maybe
thinking is too,
Surreal for me,
floating out
of my head, deep,
in thought
I should get a
rush,
but,
it's just the,
dull breeze,
of another
word.
Dull, boring,
freak of nature;
normal, twisted,
act of God.

Shoes dissolve
doors crumble at their close
air is liquid in the palms
of River.
Why does God,
act in her pool.

Knocking on hardrive,
Carressing the
page;
Paper and prose feel,
real, least surreal,
in our arms.

Take your heavy hand
And reach into my chest.
Break the skin
And tear my ribs apart.
When you find my heart,
Don’t stop.
Dig your fingertips into
The deepest ventricle
And pull to the surface
All my insecurities.
Every
Single
One.
Leave none behind
As it will not be able
To fester
Like the others;
As it will not be able to
Turn my eyes
Black
To the world;
As it will not be able to
Spark the fire
That needs to
Burn
My
Flesh
So that you may
Feed.
So that you may feed
Off my fallen tears
And the contaminated blood
That peaks your arousal.
And when you are full,
Toss my body aside
With no “thank you”
On your tongue
And move on
To the next.
But before you go,
Know,
That I would do it
All over again.

girls do dumb stuff,
selfish stuff,
that they regret;

i am a girl.

Silent from his perspective,
but she, raging within,
gave him a glance furtive,
and in return he gave a grin.

Here there was a connection.
One felt never before.
No need for deception.
She saw his very core.

And conversely, he saw her.
Inside her heart, a guest.
Or maybe an intruder?
Time will tell best.

Unless...

Well, maybe this is different.
Staying with him won't cost her rent,
and when to him her heart is lent,
a safer place it couldn't be sent.

Thinking of you
Is reminiscent of
A rusting silver blade
Digging it’s tip
In the core of my soul

And that one ******* song
we sang to each other
plays it’s sweet melody
constantly
in the back of my thoughts
an endless loop

I told you once
I feel all your pain
and each little sting
of the tack on your wrist
sends a shiver
up my worn spine

I wish you had listened.

There’s this secret desperation
hidden in the crevice of my soul
for you to be here
with me
a comfort to keep
in the denim of my pocket

and when I come home weary
from that loud
obnoxious party
I want your embrace
the slow rising and falling
of your chest to hold me
your scent
to linger on my little black dress
your hands to rub
in small measured circles
the ***** of my worn down feet

and when it pours
the downpour thrashing
against the glass of my window
I want your presence
beside me in the antique chair
the silence
broken only by the turning
pages of our favourite books
and stolen glances
over steaming cups of tea

and when I’m crying
looking into
the dusty mirror
and wondering why
I was born with such features
picking at the flaws
I want your consoling voice
telling me I am ok
the way I am
your steady arm
helping me to my feet
and your soft fingers
brushing away the salty water
stinging at my lids

But for today I am alone
and my feet are worn
and your tea is left
to cool
and my tears
abide to flow
but my pocket remains
filled with secret thoughts
a vision of you

There's this song
It comes on the radio every so often
and I can't stop thinking of you

It shouldn't
I know that

A song is merely a grouping of notes
formed together to create a chord
glued together with words

but this particular
pattern of notes
gives me shivers each time

I don't know how
a simple melody
can bring someone to tears

But then again
It must be the same
when it comes to a grouping
of bones and blood

The flowers are exceptionally cold this season
The rain leaves much to be desired
Mr. & Mrs Sunflower are expecting seedlings.
Good old sounds of pitter-patter on the mud;
"Delve deep little ones - for the earth is rich and good".

Standing two meters tall
Where did I leave me shovel?
Grannies dead and buried,
Grandad he went to war.
Yes, in our house, like a bees -nest
There's honeydew; it feeds us

Gosh, I am so very tired
I need to take a rest
Lying here - just catch my breath
Let Mother Nature do the rest

R.I.P as they will say
One day upon my grave
Lest we pray; behold, my children laugh
And rise again shall I,
Through the wonders of an age old myth
Of time and evolution - life!

Now praise the Lord my soul to give
And keep me warm inside
A glow of peace in troubled times
My memories, a myth
God Bless You!

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