You feel that you're falling, but
that's just your body rising to the skies.
See the sun shining upon the green fields
let the rain tickle you and
smile with your soul.

I know it hurts,
it does, of course,
after all
there's a war in your soul,
but, I tell you,
it's only your demons falling
the good in yourself is the one with the glory.

It's confusing, your legs are still weak
but slowly you'll forget about crawling
and start walking instead.

It takes time, you know
after living in the dark
it's hard to get used to the light
but you'll see
your eyes will stop hurting
and with the moon they'll shine
in the highest skies.

I know it's scary
and you only want to hide
you feel you're fading
but trust me when I tell you:
*You are not dying,
you're coming back to life.

I fell in so quickly, though I perceived it in slow motion,
Like I was slowly sinking, into your heart's crimson ocean,
And I finally made it all the way to the bottom.
Where I sat amongst memories that remain unforgotten.

Scenes too important to be held by your brain,
Where short term memory loosely holds onto the reins.
Influenced by things, always mistaking flowers for weeds.
Vines effortlessly follow wrinkles, on gray matter they feed.

You stored me in your heart, next to things you could not part with,
Like the warmth of my smile, and the softness of my lips
Things that you held dear, like my reflection in the mirror.

You'd always feed my hungry ears,
With the things they like to hear.

You'd pull away my fears,
And pick at what makes me insecure.
You'd steal my salted tears,
And rub them into your open sores.
You felt my pain, when I couldn't take it anymore.
With me, in the darkness you fearlessly explored.

You followed me into my world,
Just to get a better look,
At all the sickness and the hurt.
You watched blood flow through the holes,
Where organs were.

Understanding this corpse,
On your fingertips it's coarse.
Learning how to trace around,
All the insides that can't be found.
Holes you plan to fill, with emotions I don't feel.
You planted seeds in me, to show me that it's real.

I think I can feel them grow,
Through my skin,
Through my bone.
Is this thing called love...
This little flower,
I can hold?

-SLuR

Mayday , afternoon turbidity , aeolian dynamic flurry with cursory airborne splinter , tall tunic Pines release their last remnants of Winter , at the cusp of torrid June with wind-borne , whirling , stern delivery

endlessly searching for
knowledge in a world of
fear,
we are the white knights of
our generation.
                              l.r.

moving and tripping gently to your side
my face oblique, sweetly set, decries.
direction set by pointing intention
if there's passion it's of my declension.

meekly set and paler than a daisy
defenseless some man incited tupour,lazy.
you are easily rolled by part made bold
absent lust . closed. resist ****** cold

barriers hold until scent comeliness
my gentle sincere words do espress
fluid accompaniment of hands
brought together applause in lands

where acorns ride on veiny rods
and lovers smother the others sobs

nouns are the only stable grammatical units, the main building blocks of any language, they are rarely modified, or indeed if they are the original noun is no longer decipherable in a verb form as etymologically settled cement, it's still a sand dune... cow and cowering... i've seen foxes cower while cows just stood there doing their internalised fly digestion, rather than spitting acid onto their plate of faeces, they regurgitate it back into their mouth and chew once more... i've seen other animals cower, but that's hardly a reason to say cow- / -er will necessarily mean, etymologically, that the origin of the verb (activity) stemmed from cows. indeed let's treat nouns as exclusive units, not inclusive units of a language, let's forget that they can be modified, because modifying nouns gives as the reason we called nouns exclusive units of a language: a potato is still a kartoffel in german and a kartofel in western polish (eastern polish it's called a ziemniak - fruit of the earth, earth being named ziemia) - so let's just pretend that the reason why there's a noun stability, is because there are so many of them, the stability of nouns is due to the fact that there are so many things in this world that require them, all languages are bankrupt in all other spheres of word categorisation, but in the category of nouns they're so rich, they had to invent slang terminology.*

the english public have been asked to note down
precise locations of hedgehogs, due to their
declining population as people were not generous
with their garden fences, not building Gaza
like tunnels for the hedgehogs to walk through
for an easy chance of earthworm grub...
(did you know that only badgers have figured out
a way to eat hedgehogs? the foxes didn't,
actually the foxes live peacefully side by side
with cats around here) -
this is my second spotting of a hedgehog,
spotted on the road, in a critical condition,
shocked at the traffic, a stone-like creature,
cement not his usual traverse medium,
stone-cold the poor ****** was,
location: hood walk, just off Collier Row roundabout,
two beers in tow, nudge the poor ******
with my foot to get a response, then clawed into
him, he curled up once i picked him up,
a mature hedgehog, then walked with him and
placed him beneath the fence so he could
sprout no longer traumatic in the playing fields
of st. patrick's catholic primary school adjacent to
the church of corpus christi - guess the thought
expired and there was no cogitatio christi...
so indeed, hedgehog spotting, better than trains,
and after all, this wasn't the event that defined my
saturday night.