But alas there was that fateful date
She spiralled down into the hands of fate
Memories emerged from rusty iron doors
Of long forgotten ****** wars
From the horrific deeds both seen and did
She desperately wanted safely hid

So determined to relinquish her soul
Balancing on the edge of a massive Black Hole

Oh, how she wanted to let it all go
Swim in the Styx steady flow
Voices silently scream and thump
"Just jump"
Quickly darting thoughts, makes emotions scurry
A savage combatant, now battle worn and worried

This painful life seemed insignificant
No use in wishing things where different



In that final, fateful hour
Under the weight of anguish cowered
A hand reached out and let her know He'd hold tight and not let go
He also lived in that darkened zone
But together they'd never be alone
They constantly leaned on each other
From the emotional whirl, they where each other's buffer

Friendship deeper than can be imagined
Epic enough to be a poetic legend
Their very essence, bonding soul to soul
Love so pure, like the first winter's snow

But alas there was that fateful date
He spiralled down into the hands of fate
Again alone with memories
Echos of what use to be



It's a spiritual knowing
That a love so glowing
Persist only within a true soul-friend
It's a love so strong, it can not end
For when their next lifetime begins
They will find each other, yet again


©Pauline Russell

She’s more fun when she is drunk
At least…until she’s not
Because she’s puking in the toilet
And regretting her last shot

She’s more confident when she’s drunk
Gorgeous and ready to score
Until she looks in a mirror
And feels even uglier than before

She likes herself more when she is drunk
Until that feeling goes away
When she is so far beyond gone
That her self-hatred comes out to play

She’s happier when she’s drunk
All her issues leave her brain
But they all come crashing back at once
And cause her so much pain

She likes the world more when drunk
It’s filled with so much good
Until one little thing sets her off
And she hates it all more than she should

She likes life more when she’s drunk
Her mind for once feels still
Terrified of losing that feeling
She soon wants to end things with a pill

But she can stop any time she wants
Or so she’d have you believe
Because alcohol makes her seem so happy
That is, until all her friends leave

He started to write once.
A prompt 'Birthday, Christmas, socks I don't miss.
What do you even feel from a mistletoe kiss?'

No poem formed as time escaped him.
No inspiration arrived to complete it.
The prompt remained a prompt,
a point in time to show his arrogance.
He felt too great for the family he had.

As time escapes,
Friends drift
Skin sags
Days drag
Fun has gone.

His family. Gone.

In old age the poem is finished.

'Birthday, Christmas, socks I don't miss.
What do you even feel from a mistletoe kiss?
I'd give anything
to go back to this.'