Untangle twisted
knots from my hair
the air, forces
sudden bonds, make, break
that shouldn't have been
or believed, unseen
twisted trees,
separation in the eaves,
the leaves, the leaves
detritus strewn across
the drive, dented car
reverse the damage
of the break, the break
creaking swings and songs
from birds, leak into
sullen air, once black
now golden, yet how
in the green of grass
green of the spare
of the sheets
left to billow and straighten
like the knots in my hair

You, with the Hollow Heart and vines of fool’s gold.
They glisten but hiss within, seeking warmth from Hollow’s cold.

The vines stretch out and find a heart full of light.
So warm and genuine that the vines hold it tight.

Hollow feeds and fills her own empty shell with greed.
Full Heart doesn’t notice that she’s trapped and not free.

Hollow let’s go, as warmth calls elsewhere.
She’s taken so much light, that Full Heart is nearly bare.

Onto the next bright heart, her vines swing away.
Leaving Full Heart emptied, naked in the ray.

It takes a while to notice that her heart has been used.
The pain isn’t instant, but she fades like a bruise.

Eventually tears come and hurt is released.
Her heart is now full of fire like a ravenous beast.

She roars and cries as the water and fire merge.
Alchemy is achieved as a Phoenix cry is heard.

The elements refill her heart with renewed strength and vigour.
A scar is left from the vine, but her heart grows bigger.

Hollow will never be full and will always be soul-searching.
Ever reaching with golden vines, for light that is surging.

A lesson has been learnt yet a scar has been left behind.
Full Heart burns brighter, by trauma she will not be defined.

The little bird sang
Every dawn and dusk
Upon a swing within its cage

Each warble and chirp
From its breast it did ******
Singing for freedom upon its stage

It longed for the space
To spread its tiny wings
To feel the air rustle its feathers

The owners would never hear it
Like a harp without its strings
Little birds heart was tethered

The time did pass
As its song did fade
It knew it would never soar

But the owners had now gone
And the bird had remained
It hadn’t noticed its open cage door

Little bird, don’t you know?
The freedom is yours
Just fly out the cage and you’ll see

Little bird, don’t give up
Your heart aches for more
Just fly little bird, just be

You won’t want to see me now
But I would hold your hand
If you wanted a way out of your tower
That you’ve made out of the sand

And the white horses run
And the white horses run

Have you found some happiness?
Or love next to the sea?
I know it’s what you always wanted
To feel like you are free

And her heart hears the drums
And her heart hears the drums

What price have you had to pay?
For a windowless view?
Remember it’s just sand you’ve built
And your wildness can’t be subdued

And grief she’ll become
And grief she’ll become

She’s always happiest on the run

I was the calm, you were the storm
I'd say too much and you'd perform

I can't sing, you won't sleep
The bond won't fade and tries to creep

I still love, you still hate
I thought I saw hope and took the bait

I have grieved, you won't see
Just how much you mean to me

I hear your name, you won't say mine
You broke my heart so I took your shine

You'd never say it, I wouldn't know what for
No one saw me crying on the bedroom floor

Don’t look
Just hide
All the lies
Overt your eyes
            from the truth

Don’t lift
The plush
Keep hush
We’re in no rush
            to see the reason for your rage

Don’t speak
The truth
Or play sleuth
What’s the use
            of cleaning up all that mess?

Don’t confront
We’ll fight
For the right
To lose sight
            of our past injustices to you

Just sweep
Get a broom
There’s more room
For the gloom
     It’ll fit under this beautiful rug

If you don’t
Or you shout
Strikeout or pout
We will cast you out
     of this web of ours

Go on
Be sincere
Face our fear
You don’t belong here
    and never will again.

I can't stop cleaning
My knuckles are dry
Red
Rivers of disinfectant fill the parched cracks of my skin
A storm in a gorge
There's too much dust
A sandstorm
I swipe it away
It comes back!
Dark grey tufts of storm clouds
That I, with my
Mighty Hand
Brush away
Insignificant

But it's not nothing
I know what it is

I tear the filled pages
Out of my notebook
Cast them away
They're impure
Scribbled on
Clean white pages are all I need
The purity of sacred bleach

Smell the chemicals, the cleanliness
Destroy the dust, keep order
Tear the paper, fall like rain

It's never nothing
I know what it is