is the contrast between the woman i see
and the woman loved so great an abyss
isnt the very nature of her tenderness in her soft eyes
in the simple sweet curve of her sleepy smile on a summer morning
isnt it in her words passionately whispered in the sheets
and the softer still words she leaves on my ear as we fall asleep after
i tell you
that this image
is love
because it is her

As Jackie leans against the *****
beside the grave that's he's just dug
he digs up another 'makings'
and with bony hands still shaking
as if his very life depended
on the Virginia flake expended
into his heaving fragile lungs,
He starts to cough
he starts to heave
he doesn't have time to believe
that it's self harm
that he's doing.

As the spasms calm
he takes another pull
and when his lungs are full
he quite deliberately
exhales the smoke,
discounts the words I spoke
about the damage done
and rolls another one.

But in the swirlings of the nicotine in a scene
from some rocky horror show
his lungs forget to **** and blow
and his poor old heart
just seems to know
it's time to stop and
go.

Someone else leans on a *****
surveys the lovely job he's made
of his predecessors grave
and thanks his God he got the job
and that Jackie Bleasedale
smoked.

I won't fight the feeling
My minds guides me
follow it
Soul, everything is
Love, everything is
touched the feeling
it stuck, you helped
no make-up, smiling brighter
hair natural, beauty in you
beauty in me
flowing from depths of toes,
to heights of fingers
happy to be
this
but death
unknown adventure
take me there
someday, we will meet
I'll be my own God
but,
finding Peace through energy
my iii perceives
hell
its beautiful.

I miss the cold nights
Laying in the vacant bed
Of *** stained sheets
Staring at the moon through the window
I miss the way I slept
In every part of my room
Like a rock in the desert
Falling off the side of the sand dune blankets
I miss the rants of my insanity
The psychotic lullaby of the moon
Calling down onto me
To hunt a victim of purity
Plague them with the emptiness of insanity
I MISS ME
The old me
Of no heart and soul
No regret from anything he did
But now I have me
The man I wish I never was
Because I have nothing to offer her
And I know I love her
I know she loves me
But what am I to do
When I have nothing left of even me
I miss me
He always knew what to do
Oh well she fell in love with me
Not the old me
And I will do whatever it takes
To give her what she truly deserves
I miss me...because the I'm incomplete
Without her next to me

As I lay here in my bed,
Clothed in nothing more in an oversized sweater,
I wonder about how things
Could've been
Should've been
And would be.

Oh how I wish for nothing more than
An actual night's rest;
Waking with energy and with bagless under eyes
Just to skip down the stairs singing with the birds
Only to fall down a few steps, but
Laughing all the while.

These are the thoughts that resignate
While I prepare myself for my sleepless slumber.

You know how hard it is
for me to tell people how I feel
so when I told you I was feeling low
and especially alone
I was half hoping you'd hop in your car
and drive as fast as you could to get here.

But the doorbell never rang.

*You never came.