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Days are never longer,
                                        nor more empty,
                                                          ­            than when you're not in them.
                                                                                                                              .
                                                                                                                                .
                                                                                                                                .
Who knew you'd be my beauty in this puddle of a mess.
More than the sound of rain over tin roofs.
Sadly it's more than I could ever confess.
More than the thunder can light the midnight sky.

A crisp rejuvenation drowning in a sea of lost tears.
A moonlight walk wading through tired fears.

In our wildest moments.
You are everything undiscovered.
Through the harshest trials.
You are my beloved.

Who knew?
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
 Sep 2015 Christopher Lowe
Roo
How do you explain to somebody who can't listen?
I was just drowning in a pool of sadness
that wasn't in your back garden.

And whilst you're concentrating on expanding
I'm only forced to shrink.
Do you know what it feels like to shrink?
My mind has malformed, distorted and mutilated from my body.
I am no longer, but a figure.
An unnatural abomination that threatened your existence.
I am unadulterated; reverberating,
creating noises through your bones that no man would choose to face.

My demon is me for I am hatred
and I stick around in your blood to convince you that I never left.
 Sep 2015 Christopher Lowe
anu
Freshness of early morning
Wipe out all my boring

Blissful cuckoo sounds
Unsounds all my wounds

Cool moon
Wants me to tune
My own boon

Tree shakes
To remove all my aches

Moving nature
Moved my nature.
Unfortunately I haven’t seen much early mornings. But enjoyed today.
It gives some sort enthusiasm. And while enjoying I was reminded of Elsa aka and Donna mam.
How good the nature is!!
14/9/2015-4.30 am..
 Sep 2015 Christopher Lowe
ln
they say empty vessels make the most noise
here i am, tearing my skin wide open
leaving myself right here in the hell we call earth
opening my heart just to be shot back down, again
here i lay, my body and mind empty
my heart blank, my limbs suffocating
my brain worn out and my fingers twitching
here i am, vulnerable and
empty

but here i am, not being able to make a sound
i open my mouth to speak but the words just won't come out
i am trying, i am trying
but my soul has shut down
i am silent
i am an empty vessel, a blank canvas
but i am not making the most noise, im not making any noise
just
because i don't  remember how to
listen -
hear no sound, feel
only wind on its way, ghostly
nothings, but hush to sharp wings
of ocean birds so fraying as they cut
the sky, shuttle to fairways, far aways,
in plaintive cries, i hear what they say,
sailing into the jeweled skylights, but i
am only weight of air, still on ground,
i mumble out, sidle the bone tides
that roll to land, grains of clarity,
i am mist and tear, a world
of hollow, i am that sound -
of ocean in a shell.
My body is a house
holding dead things inside


My sanctuary desecrated.
You said
"you are so tired" and smiled
the warmth bringing expectation
a need to please

so I made all of the right noises
and you commenced to reduce me
of the burden of my clothes.

eyes closed
body supine,
languid and lying
mouth still.
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