but the amount of people out there
that once put their whole being
on their sleeve for
someone
and in the turn of a second
they become a stranger
a stranger yet
not at all
because they now have knowledge of
your soul
of your heart
of your body
what a beautifully awful thing
to know that you are being carried
in someones repertoire
of beings.

E.M.

Laughs the happy April morn
Thro' my grimy, little window,
And a shaft of sunshine pushes
Thro' the shadows in the square.

Dogs are tracing thro' the grass,
Crows are cawing round the chimneys,
In and out among the washing
Goes the West at hide-and-seek.

Loud and cheerful clangs the bell.
Here the nurses troop to breakfast.
Handsome, ugly, all are women . . .
O, the Spring--the Spring--the Spring!

The man of the hour
He makes you feel happy in that
Hour he makes you feel special he makes  you feel loved thats the man of the hour in that hour y he makes love to you you love him in that hour the man of the hour thats
What the ladys called him

Afraid of the rifle fire, he had

Crouched all day in the dirt,

A dull fellow at the best of times.

Ricocheting bullets bolted to the air

Surfing the wind, screaming

Abuse like ill-disciplined relatives

Arriving for an impromptu visit.

One shattered his head-there it was,

There were its remnants-

Greasy insubstantial grey matter that

Contained his soul.  

An end to drinks in the pub

The love of his wife

The smiles of his children

Holidays in Benidorm with the In-Laws

Paella by the swimming pool.

One bullet, not even new, put an end to a contented life.

Look at me now
Rising from the ground
Taking everything with me
No regrets
No remorse
No shame
What didn't **** me
It sure made me stronger
But it left some cracks
All of them are apart of me
Of who I am today
Scars of a battle that I've won
Medals that I carry with pride
Because if it wasn't for the past
I would never been this brave
Now I've regenerated from the ashes
My inner light shinning brighter than ever before
I've been reborn

'If I were a woman, I would've kissed you.
And inhale your soul.
But I am only a girl. And I can't grow up.'

You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever.

Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. There are days when I can hear my bones straining under the weight of despair, this madness that erupts like an earthquake when I feel you lost. This heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until there are none. It is a mortal danger, perhaps not to life in a strict sense but mortal still, for I know very well my soul would harden and never be the same if I lose you.

But think not for a minute this is despair's babble, even in my seldom moments of calm and lucidness and peace I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than ever mine or someone else's. I want to deserve you, for I have to love you E, I have to love you. It matters not this wound that burns like two, it matters not that I search for you and I do not find you, even as the nights go by and I do not have you.

Can’t sleep
           not even a wink
                   you could say I’m restless.
No air in my lungs
                       i’m left here gasping
                                               you could say I’m breathless.

The water in my eyes
                               done dried up
                                                     no more time for tears.
After a while I was numb to it all
                                                      so I got no
                                                                ­     hopes or fears.

My heart tore from my hollow chest
                                                       so I ain’t got none
                                                                ­               left for giving.
The good part is that
                                   you can’t die
                                                 if you were never really living.