Roses are red
The one's on your bed
I painted on your white sheet
Please come in, I request

I am laying over the other side
With an open slit wrist
But I decorated, while in hide
As a promise to you, I couldn't resist

You injected me with insanity
And overdosed with promises
You injured my mentality
And spit on me, instead of kisses

I called you, once I completed
But you never answered my call
I suppose my number, you deleted
That's when, I let the blades fall

You said, you loved blood coloured roses
You wished it to be decorated on your bed
I did as you said, and before my eyes closes
Here's a note, so please don't get mad

"...My love, you took as a joke
My existence made you choke
I always cried when you spoke
I am completely worn out and broke

Here are your blood coloured roses
I painted all by myself today
Now my eyes slowly closes
A last goodbye, I am going away..."


©sim

.
Bare feet pound along the pavement
yet there is not feeling.
The connection with the tangible solid
has with it no true healing.

The detached mind floats up high
a million miles away.
Terra firma are just empty words,
stout rock becoming clay.

As retraction of the emotions sits
apart from what is real.
A no-man's land of security shrieks
'this is what I feel'.

Withdrawal has its positive notes,
protection from the pain.
Keeping close the hearts secret safe,
never to be killed again.

Autopilots most clever disguises hide
that which should be faced.
But burying reality in cold defiance
renders it all but erased.

© Pagan Paul (29/08/17)

My foetal days are full of blindness
Akin to this, my void days will be full of darkness
My world will be shut in despair
As heaven webs are ravaged beyond repair
The murky silence grasps my soul in the womb
And releases it in my stone tomb
My beginning and end are proportionally designed
The end claims unending life therefore my beginning chose i to resigned

Written by
Martin Ijir

words fell
    like broken
        glass
                from
your lips
                onto
bloodstained
                       carpet
lacerations
              searing your
bruised heart,
      transplanting
              its jagged rips
into mine
  beats sharply feathered
like injured
                wings,
angel eyes
   pigmented my color,
    blinded by a
cool sheen
hiding behind
                 tears
You are but a child,
young fresh entity
yet know the weight
of heavy
    and suddenly
nothing else
       matters
only your light
in my world,
however
         dark you get
nothing material
can fix it and I will
stop it all
to press
the button
          of time
and give
you
the
       world

With magnificent indifference
The world swirls and eddies
And life ebbs and flows
Around my crusty head
But still this radiant illusion
Springs eternally hopeful
And leads us by the nose

Times of mysteries past flow
As the northern rain washes the days away
Into slick and glimmering colours
Without earthly reason
And this late in the season
Daffodils fade and die
And butterflies won't fly
In an awkward silent stillness

                                   By Phil Roberts