Glass of red in hand, she watches the rain.
The pane of glass the only barrier between her and thunder.
Thinking whilst drinking should not be undertaken at any costs.
How old is too old?
Why does the thunder clap rather than sing?
Slowly she turns away from the window, sets the glass down
and turns the wheelchair toward the bedroom.
Still the storm rages, the thunder claps, and her heart sings
Q:How old is too old? : Answer: right now
The bottle of tablets falls to the floor, ironically timed with a thunderclap.

Its been written in the stars that I will be
Starstruck by your personality, and your
clenched fists
Supergiant of manliness that strikes soft
flesh, sparks bruises, causes pain.
Leave, people say, but I can't, love is a giant supernova.
Sparse is the love for me, infinite is the universe.
The stars I see now are not of distant galaxies though,
but rather the start of a concussion

Consider the individual differences in the experience of pleasure.
Reason that certain individuals may be more sensitive
to the pleasurable effects and thus experience them with greater intensity, resulting in addiction.
Therefore,
I am an addict.
Addicted to words
Addicted to expression
in all formats.
My positive urgency to write
is a dependence on viewing
words, sentences and rhymes
of descriptions forming,
magically upon the page.
Behavioural addiction.
Not, gambling, ***, drugs or
Rock 'n' Roll but of
Ink,paper, pen, iPad, tablet
the format has changed over the
centuries, the need has not.
Fiction, truth,lies and promises
all end up in that icy part of a writers heart,
tearing, souls and breaking hearts,
soul shattering truths held in shadows
of the soul

Fallacy, a deceptive, misleading, notion, of 2.4 kids and parents
Atrophy of the idea Family
Majestic man and wife, mother and father together
Infallible,infinite,until divorce
Liberal, loving, lying, until divorce
Yearning for truth in a world of lies

Theatrically monopolised by ad execs the concept of family
Inception of children, duty done
Eternally bound by DNA if not love
S**iblings, searching for a childhood that doesn't exist