Last night
The sweet taste of you
Lingered into my dreams
When I awoke
It was still there
If only
If only
It could be
More than it seems

Ignorance is bliss.
You never really understand how true that is until you’re thrown into the death spiral called adult life. When you’re little...you eavesdrop. Just to get a little bit of information. You catch the end of almost every sentence; you hear things...and want to hear more. You ask about it, and you hear the same thing over and over again. You can join in on the conversation when you’re older. You’re too young for this. I'll tell you later. And when you hear that...you know they’re not going to say a thing.
And then you grow a little older, and you see a little more. You hear a little more. And finally you understand that maybe you didn't want any of this. This responsibility to keep things secret. But then something catches your attention. A little thread sticking up from the nicely woven blanket...
And you’re suddenly interested again. You’re thrown deeper and deeper into the death spiral. And soon, once you're very much older... old enough to understand. To hurt. To think. To betray.... you know.
You hear more and more. And things start to fall into place. You see that maybe your parents aren't as happy as they seem. That the reason you didn't get that one Christmas present you've been dreaming about wasn't because Santa lost your letter, it was because money was tight, and the bills were being paid. The more you learn, the more you see, the more you hear....
You realize this grown up stuff, this privilege of knowing what all of the adults are talking about...
It isn't what you thought at all. You don't like it. In fact, you want to go back to the time when mommy was your best friend; daddy was your hero...
When the only problems you had were scraped knees, and what game to play next.
You realize that all the things that were amazing and perfect back when you were little...
They were just covering the lies. The things your parents were hiding... from you.
You know.... it is fact.
Ignorance really is bliss...

Robert Frost once said: to perish in fire
would be his choice
in the time most dire.

But should I have chosen thrice
my final vote would go to ice,
the pain of flame
just too great a price.
If world's end should come by night,
I would embrace Cold's numb sleep,
rather than to witness the sight
of dying bodies charred by light.

Therefore, I say:
Heed my advice.
For to perish in ice
would be quite nice

Stop showing
You love me
A little at a time.

Stop saying
You care
Bit by bit.

Stop keeping
Me here
For tiny pieces of time.

Because I need
All of you
Not piece by piece.

I love
All of you
Not just some parts of you.

So love all of me
All the way
All the time.

Or let all of me go
All at once
For good.

You text me
When you're drunk
At the bar
Looking for a ride home.

And I reply
Because you're drunk
And texting me
And I know what that means.

So I get on my shoes
And get in my car
And pick you up
Because you're drunk.

I take you to your late-night fast food
And back to your house
And I go inside
Because you're drunk.

I like you
When you're drunk

You smile
And laugh
And kiss me
When you're drunk.

You pull my hair
And hold me close
And love me
When you're drunk.

I get to stay the night
And hear you talk about the future
And I'm happy
When you're drunk.

I love you
But I have a hard time
Liking you
Except when you're drunk.

And maybe it will **** me
Spending my life
Waiting for a man
Who's only around at night

But I can't leave
Because somewhere inside of you
Is a man that I love
Except that he's drunk.

The ground rumbles, the desks shake,
we all pause in our panic
breathlessly waiting to see if school will stand.
The tremors fade, so we file out in rows.
All in height order.
Waiting to be swept by the incoming tide.

29 feet of unstoppable chaos
spills on to a flat plain. Safety lies
just metres away, yet we are not told to go.
They argue as we stand in rows,
dismissing the threat along with the lives
of the seventy four children that died.

My mother waits with the sea eagles,
a year has not dulled the grief, as men search
for my body among the rest of the debris.
But I cannot be found with the silt,
like my brother and the rest ,
I am simply gone. My body lost.

I want to kiss you
beneath a lamp light
on a crowded street
and ask you to stay.

Just for me.

But we are not made
for, or of,
celluloid and limelight.
We are

just fragile

flesh and bone.

It was easier before the fall
To talk and tease
To play and poke
Fun came easy.

Touch came easy
More so over time
More so after drinks
More so pressed against your truck.

Oh god.
Oh dear god.
Is this what I'd been dreaming of?
It was sweeter than I imagined.

Every kiss and touch and puff of your breath on my face
Was more electrifying
More enticing
Than anything I'd known before.

So I want to kick myself.
For friendship and *** don't mix.
Lasting relationship and one-night stand can't coexist.
So what good are these feelings I have for you?

I can't have you the way I want to have you.
And god I want to have you
But here I sit, alone on my couch
Forcing myself not to call you.

This is for the rainy days.
The heavy days,
Blanketed under a dark silver sky.

This is an image of
Timeless days.
Where both dawn and dusk
Fail to exist,
Because the gray never went away.

This is the light drizzle
Painting your glasses
With tiny cloudy droplets
That blur-out your vision

And makes the next step a mystery,,
As you pray
                  For a chance of sunshine.