This is the last thing, the final time,
No more words, no reason, no rhyme.
I won’t reach out, I won’t pretend,
This is my adieu, this is the refrain.
I’ll vanish far, where no one sees,
Where names are lost in distant breeze.
No one will call, no one will care,
And I won’t leave a shadow there.

Every memory
I’ll let it fade,
Like old songs that silence played.
I’ll forget it all, I’ll close that door,
I won’t come back, not anymore.
But the last song I once replayed,
The one I quietly screen-recorded and saved
That one stays, a soft goodbye,
A sound that holds what I can’t cry.

I won’t return, won’t turn around,
I’m searching now for quieter ground.
A place like Innisfree — still and wide,
Where I can breathe and safely hide.
So this is it
No need to try.
No second thoughts. Just one last sigh.
No one will notice, no one will see...
But maybe that's how it was meant to be.

beneath the cindering sky
a storm surge pummels

and plumes
onto broken grey stones

waves
in black rages

rip away the skin
of the day

you are shattered
and dragged further

and further from the strand
on a distance cliff

the lighthouse pitches flicks
and is finally lost

black chemical blood
sludges your veins

slowing your heart
fear feeds loneliness

ocean whole
you are swallowed

and sinking the darker down
breathe in the cold silence

peace
peace  
peace
  
be with you

19 stones in the satchel I carry.
Some are huge and lots are small.
I hoist them up each morn at dawn
And stumble through another day
Looking for a place to put them down.
ljm

Fingers slide, sensuous,
Tracing sunlit skin,
Caressing warm memories,
Etching my heart within.

Lips share passions,
Of word and kiss,
Tongues bare souls,
Fears, hopes, and bliss.

Dreaming in your embrace,
Arms encircle, legs entwine,
Drifting in your eyes,
Love reflected, in yours, in mine.

Is an action word , not of a sorrowing heart , but one of a change of direction like a stone bouncing off an immovable force .

I left, not because I didn’t care,
but because care felt like a
t   i   g   h   t   r   o   p   e    w   i   r   e
strung across your moods.
I tiptoed,
hoping not to f
                              a
                               ­      l
                                           l
into the c          m of your silence.
                  h    s
                     a

You say I chose.
And maybe I did.
But choosing peace doesn’t mean I never wanted you.
You wished I had stayed.
I wished you had seen me before the goodbye.

You speak in switches;
Yes, no.
Blame, regret.
Like you're still rewriting the ending.
Hoping the script forgives the sting.

You say you never betrayed,
but what do you call the slow erasure of effort?
The absence that smiled and said it wasn’t personal?

I remember the warmth.
I do.
But I also remember the chill that came after you wanted me to read between lines that were never written.

You weren’t my boss, no.
But you were a map I couldn’t follow.
Every step felt like trespass.
So I drew a door
|. |
and walked through it.

And still, I think of your games.
But I don’t play anymore.

That's me what I'm now, my life is certain.
You'll call me, and I'll say: 'Hello, I'll call later.’
You'll answer: 'OK. I got it. No problem.'
And I'll left with a guilt that you're a waiter.

The time will trip forth, to feelings athwart.
And you'll await for my call all the same.
My answer to you is my heavy load now,
My refusal words and short tones after them...

And you'll await for my call until last,
Until your last profound sigh.
If I could turn all things around,
I'll call you back after a while...
Forgive me...