If I seem broken on the inside,
It was him. Not you,


(C)eileenmcgreevy@ymail.com 23/10/2019

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay

The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris

The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more

But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.

She changed
He noticed it in her eyes
The last time he acknowledged her was
before he left
When fresh tears came out her eyes
When she dedicated her love to him
But no matter what she did she couldn't stop him
from leaving
Her eyes held sadness and love
That he had never seen in anyone before
The kind of eyes when someone betrays you
This time
Her eyes had fire
And as he stood and looked at her
Her hair and the wind
Her eyes and the sun
This time
This time he saw her worth
Her love
Her strength
But this time she was strong enough to fight
Strong enough to say no.

I still remember the last time I saw you
and I remember the day I realized
it was really over

but life goes on, as things do
however, I still find myself
thinking about you

I’ve seen other people,
I’m sure you have too
but still, I really, truly do
myss you

There are times when my heart crave for your mere existence

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.

it's the same as before
or the other time
or the time before that.
here's a ****
and here's a ****
and here's trouble.

only each time
you think
well now I've learned:
I'll let her do that
and I'll do this,
I no longer want it all,
just some comfort
and some ***
and only a minor
love.

now I'm waiting again
and the years run thin.
I have my radio
and the kitchen walls
are yellow.
I keep dumping bottles
and listening
for footsteps.

I hope that death contains
less than this.