It's my birthday!

Words are now
as if
I never wrote

gather as an aching
lump in my throat.

They don't seek paper
only a river
to pour and mingle
in refrains of a dumb sadness
flow away
sunburned and tidewashed
to where the river is widest
deepest with sighs
of life not enough
in once only
and when just begun
ending broken on the shore.

They say the home is where the heart is,
But all that's left in my chest
Is an ugly mess, a vacant nest.
Another day, another stress.
Feeling like the prize isn't worth the
*Contest.

(By Hypno)
If my mind was a kingdom,
Then you can see the scars of war,
Ravaging across the land,
With evil knocking at my back door

If my mind was a empire,
It would have fallen on the first day of it’s new rule,
With a foolish, hungry ruler,
With blood and war as his devastating tool

If my mind was a nation,
Everything would be out of control,
There would be no peace or freedom or truth to action
There would be no time for light, just a black hole

If my mind was made of gold,
Then if would be rotting with rust.
If my mind was made out of silver,
The shine would be gone with no lust,
If my mind was made out of stone,
Then the forces have broken it apart with no love
If my mind was the most strongest thing on this very planet,
Then I must have nothing.

If my mind was a kingdom. . .
If my mind was an empire. . .
If my mind was a nation. . .
If my mind was my own. .

When she answered I am fine
Her voice cracked
But no one noticed
When she said I am okay
She faked a smile
But no one noticed
When she told you I can do this
You didn't noticed
The tears she tried to hide

Is she that good at pretending
Or does anyone really cares?

I looked at her,
That girl, who had grown into,
A woman
Watched her, everyday
Black eyes,
Broken bones
Trying to smile through tears
She always said his heart was
Spanish moss,
Clinging, choking,
Till it kills
She always said that physical death,
Was nothing like the death of the heart
Its worse,
No funeral,
No stone to mark its passing
Just dead
Like the years of her past
Troubled death
I didn't feel sorry for her
There was nothing,
Like the endurance I'd watched,
Nothing
Her tears,
Nothing
She was,
Past
Nothing,
What she may have been
Washed down the bath tub sink,
Like soap suds