Unfinished notes,
Unheeded lessons,
Distracted mind,
Stolen glances,
Fantasies in the day,
Dreams at night,
Chasing a lost cause,
Lovelorn.
Two years later,
I’m still only two benches away from you,
Yet you are a thousand miles away.

Waves of memories
Surging in the sea of sorrow,
Letters adorned with
Crystals of nostalgia,
Despair and Darkness,
Silent and smug,
With creepy smiles promising
To wreak havoc once again,
Diaphanous barriers sewn with tears of pain,
Envelop the reckless heart,
Invisible scars etched into the bereft soul,
Familiar feeling of bitter realization.
Buried anger, misguided trust,
O belle, mercy is all I ask,
Insecurity tugging at my roots,
Harder than my own hands do,
Limp,
Torn,
I am dead on the inside.

Looking afar
Iinto the fair white sky,
Infinitesimal on a speck in cosmos,
Yet,
Consumed and blinded
By unsolicited mortal passions,
Rage, desolation, woe, glee, love-
Emotions.
Words stuck in my cynical brain,
Ink bleeding on the papers.
Choking on my own thoughts,
Drowning in the abyss of an endless void,
Betrothed to an unwelcome guest-loneliness,
Treading through the fiery waters,
Trudging through dank, dense woods,
Battered,
Lifeless,
I am dead on the inside.

Silky- smooth,
Velvety words,
Envelop me,
Until I'm cosy, and warm,
Illusion of a haven-
Vulnerable, unguarded,
Obscured under my trust-
Words,
Or should I say?
Knives,
Stab me,
Again,
And Again,
Life's draining out of me.

Do you see me in the
title.

Bet you don't, but I'm
there.

Plastic wrapped on a
fridge shelf.

I used to have eyes ears
and two nostrils.

You know, holes, like in
a six pack.

They thumbed and
indexed with one hand.

The other held a knife
to slit my throat.

I squealed, nobody listened
to me@slaughterhouse.ie

There was a man who for all appearances
was living the american dream
fine clothes fancy sleek black car
women at his beck and call
celebrity and media attention
awards and accolades
but he was lost and empty
mostly miserable
weepingly lonely.

And I wondered if such a dream
is really a nightmare
if there is nothing deeper
sounder
loving
beautifully silent
selfless
infinite,
then I do not want that dream.

I’d rather be awake in wonder
in the richness of now
in the arms of my old lover
reading a good book
or asleep at home
under the covers wandering
a bright afternoon
or the shadowy byways
and rocky crags
of the universe.