He felt everything he needed to feel
A womans infidelity
His Father dying
His children crying
But still, he must live on
What space exists for him now?
He sailed beautiful waters
With a storm at his stern
He only had so much time
Before the shore would tell a sad story
A story of someone who tried
But was lost in the search for meaning
It’s a story of a man and where he stood
Where his feet were planted
He thought the beauty of nature was his spirit
And the beauty of man
But neither were of his own making
So he climbed higher
But not with his feet
Or his hands
He wanted things greater than himself
To make himself smaller and smaller
But that is not what soothed his discomfort
As he retreated into his own mind
He stopped living for things
And places
Love was for one night
Because worry slept beside him always
Worry about his fate
And his children’s
And whether she really loved him
He had no way of knowing
So he decided she didn’t
Just like the storm behind him
It was only there to remind him
To either live or die
To make money or ask why
To take pictures or his ego to deny
To suffer desire or remember it’s all a lie
To leave smiles to those who cannot see
And sorrow to those who know how life can be
Washing up on shores
That asked what took him so long
To come home

The fear, silent, sly stretches across the room
Sitting in a corner, I wait for the doom.
My swollen eyes recognise the silhouette
lurking in shadows of the dimming night.
It crept nearer.

Leave me alone, I cherish the solitude.
It fed on my thoughts.  It grew healthy.
I slammed and shut the door tight.
The door remained ajar.
It crept nearer.

If death be beautiful, let it take over the night.
If the fear is to stay, it is better turning off the lights.
The silent breezes are deafening.
The walls are closing in on me.
It crept nearer.

The fear empties my life, one moment at a time.
It is the flashbacks, the nightmares,
and, everything that is frightening.
My heart defies death.
My body nourishes the certainty.  
I lie down for a moment.
*It crept nearer.

The sky was lit with fireworks,
subtly laying the groundwork.
Our wandering eyes met,
and I swear I heard a string-quartet.
The childish blush that overcame my cheeks,
seemed to appear in hot, red streaks.
You walked nearer and my eyes twinkled with anticipation,
thinking you were to make some grand declaration,
of our feelings that needed exploring,
see, it felt like my heart was soaring.
I didn’t realize that in the drink you were pouring,
was what would ruin everything for me.
My voice was lost so quickly you see,
because you seemed to know little ol’ me.
It wasn’t until it set in,
the walls seemed to move from where they had been.
My mind was clouded in the darkness,
and now I’m thinking, "how could you be so heartless?"
But not like the song,
no, nothing about us was like music, easy and flowing.
You took from me, what wasn’t yours to take,
I’d been a blank slate,
but by then your wandering eyes,
had looked like they’d won a prize.
We didn’t fit together like puzzle pieces,
I still remember how my dress had creases.
The next morning was worse,
it was then I watched my trust in men ride off in a hearse.
The pools of blue that once intrigued me,
resurrect within what seems to be a raging sea
of emotions, that I cannot suppress
and it’s you that got me into this mess.
I’d been in love with you since I was sixteen,
something that now seems so obscene.
So at eighteen, I thought you’d finally seen me,
but now you’ve seen more of me than need be.
That bet you made with your friends,
left me with a darkness that descends,
especially when I sleep,
leaving me to feel like a black sheep.
But, as time has passed,
within me there’s been a huge contrast.
I will not be a ‘victim’ anymore,
and someday I’ll feel my heart soar.
I’ll experience another fleeting glance,
and one day, I’ll give love a second chance.

Your eyes resembled the troubled waters at sea,
always shimmering, churning, crashing, always making me wonder if you had sky blue galaxies trapped inside of you.

And your smile always looked as if it had been carved into your face with the same instrument used to make those marks on your arms.

I found comfort in your sadness, because that was the only time you were true to yourself.

I found comfort in your freedom. I always loved seeing you live carelessly, daringly. Insubordinate to anyone who tried to stop you.

Sometimes it worried me to see you scratch your skin after you cursed about destroying everything you touched.

Sometimes it worried me to see you lose yourself among the empty bottles of alcohol.

You were burdened with a heavy heart, and like the pupils in your eyes and the emotion in your smile and the sound of your laugh, it was vacant.

And all I could say was, maybe, just maybe, if you unclenched your fists you would've found that you were holding onto nothing.

1009

I was a Phoebe—nothing more—
A Phoebe—nothing less—
The little note that others dropt
I fitted into place—

I dwelt too low that any seek—
Too shy, that any blame—
A Phoebe makes a little print
Upon the Floors of Fame—