If it’s up to me
    I’ll try again
        Swallow my pride
             Not runaway and hide
For me this is an outlet
             Expressing myself
Regardless of opinions
       I do this for ME
If I touch someone’s heart
        For when I write
I’ve accomplished something
           Hey, that’s a start...
Sometimes it’s a swing and a miss
Not everything is roses and glitter
      Sometimes you’ll get dissed
I put so much hard work in all of this
     Be fierce and love what you do
Someone out there will be proud of you

I feel numb.
I can't feel anything.
A poke from a needle, a cut from a knife
Even a hole from a broken glass and all the sharp things in life

It all started when I pricked my finger from a needle of a spinning wheel
Or was it when I took a bite from a poisonous apple?
Maybe from the moment I exchanged by voice for something dumb
Or was it when I chose to give up my freedom because of a rose?
Perhaps when I broke my glass slipper and did nothing
Or was it when I rubbed that fake genie lamp?
Perhaps when I laid down my hair for someone to climb
or was it when I aimed my arrow at a torn tapestry?
It could be when I kissed the wrong frog thinking it was a prince
Or was it when I tried to be someone else to hide the real me?

Alas! Indeed, I almost forgot.
That it was when I handed you my fragile heart.

So much of our lives are spent in separation
That reunion feels like resurrection

We spend time in agonizing anticipation
For that perfect day
And often forget to savour the moments in between

Seeking euphoria in the midst of chaos
Don't you think we can hardly keep up our pace?
I wish every second is as slow
As the one i spent locking eyes with you in the crowd
When everything else simply
Fades

My heart is longing
Grasping at thin air
For something that belongs to me
Yet i cannot reach.

You know that feeling?
It's raining outside
Well, monsoon just started
That kind of rain, you know?
When you're not sick of it already.

You just had a warm bath after making sure you've locked the main door because you live alone.
You come out, your hair all up in the towel turban.
Not dripping because he's not around and he likes it that way
Honestly, this is more comfortable
Its not soaking your bra all wet.

You smell of your new body wash. You decided to change the brand because the previous one reminded you of him. You did the same thing with your shampoo.
You hopeless romantic.
Who stops eating garlic bread because it reminds them of their 'ex' .
And you go around telling people that you did it for 'Health reasons'.
You fool.

But one thing you'll never give up.
Your fairy lights.
Because they make you realize how beautiful everything can look. Despite the peeling walls.

So you bask in yellow lights
Write poems that scare him away.
He probably does love them, you know?  

Come home already. Will you?

I never think of you
No, that's not true.
I think of you all the time

When I'm listening to a song
A movie
Or a show
I wonder if you’d like it

When I’m just sitting
Sometimes, I wish
You were there with me
(So I could make you laugh)

When you don’t text for a while
I try not to worry
(it doesn’t work)
And I hope nothing is wrong.

I say I never think of you
Because there are no fantasies
Of us in a movie
As superheroes
Spies
Or rockstars

I don’t dream of what it will be like
In ten years
Fifteen
Or twenty

I am so enamored with
What we are right now
Who you are
How you’re changing

I don’t need what-ifs
Or dream worlds
When what I’m living
Is better than anything

That I could have ever
Made up
In my head

Sitting in the sun,
Watching old movies,
The Australian heat
Washes up against my feet.
The dog shakes off the afternoon
And snoozes by the couch
And all our troubles melt away
Like the ice cream now resting
In our stomachs.
Sweet peace,
The ignorance of it all.
Only at the cost of our minds
Do we chase our tails and sunbathe
On the crisp autumn grass.

Hello everyone,

  I'm so very sorry … I feel horrible doing this, but I have no choice. You see, I have published my first book on Amazon/Kindle! This piece (and many others) had to be taken down because they do not allow published material to be available online for free. (Go figure) I wanted to leave the shell of the posts because I felt compelled to leave all your helpful and loving comments. (Silly sentimental, I know), but I also didn't want to just have the pieces disappear without an explanation. I feel bad enough as it is!

  I owe ALL of you so, SO much for all of your reads, love, and support. It was YOU that gave me the gumption to FINALLY get off my **** and publish! Thank you all for the warm comments, camaraderie, and encouragement! I will still be here, reading, uploading and just being the Rascal that I am. How could I EVER leave you guys?

  The book is called “The Way I See It – FictionPhilosophySoul Food” and it will be FREE for the first few days on Kindle Select, so watch for it, if you are interested. I hope that you go and grab it. If you do, I would also hope that you find it worthy, you would leave me a good review. That will help me get in the public eye! Soon afterward (2-3 days or so), it will be available in paperback.

Find the book(s) here: www.amazon.com/author/jeff.gaines

Or find the book(s), and all about me, here: www.JeffGaines.world

  Soon after, I also hope to have my first novel (a supernatural thriller), called “Wanderer” available as well!

  Wish me luck!

                                Big, Biggest Love,

                                               Jeff Gaines

It starts with a stare
Not calling back -pretending at first
Then actually never care

Walk a thousand streets,
But that bridge is burning -I can see
And I'm not the one scorching in heat

Smile so much that it hurts
Not to please you this time
Glad I learnt to put myself first

This beautiful, dazzling night
Just to spend alone -be on my own
Relieved -I've got nothing to fight

Shook hands with "kind",
Cleansed up my head -a new person there is
And now I can speak of my mind

This -the art of hate
Squeezing my brain -till all ekes out
I'm learning ,hope I'm not too late?

you said
that leaving was for the weakest souls
those who cannot be like Atlas
carrying the weight of the world
on their shoulders
you said leaving was
something you dont want to do
somehting you shouldnt do
something you couldnt do
that leaving was a bad thing
and some people dont deserve it
you made leaving sound so bad
that when you did it to me
you have proven its rightful meaning
but what gave me
the ache of my heart was that  
you said you couldnt but you still did.

Darkened days have fallen like dead branches from a tree.
Have we no ambition to brighten our life in this cruel world in which we reside,, yet we absorb all the negative energy and expect it not to be. A world of anger, depression, replacing happiness and love , we are creating self made anxiety.
We are all created as equal so the story tells, is it by our own choices that made the tainted evils of  this world a way of life to live, we stand in the dark as we criticize one another when we need to criticize ourself, just as we live in the dark and consume our heart with anger and expect it to change by itself . The sadness in life is going to be just as the happy times will too. For where there is good there will be evil, the way we choose to live this life we are given is totally up to me and you. Let the sun fill your heart as you are Blessed beyond belief, though you will never see it standing in the dark watching the dead branches fall from the tree.

Take hold the loose and bubbling tongue.
Unfetter the ridgid, crumbling flesh
Shoved
Into the snail's shell.
Shake off the jumping fly
On the edge
Of crust and dribbling sweet.
Let the languid breath
Float free.

What cruelty it is
for a guardian angel
to be intangible chaperone.

How are they to
reach out and soothe
their wounded lonely charge?

No gentle guiding hand
on nape of neck,
wings to blanket embraces.

What good is a
soul meet soul communion
when I am hollow?

Lonely I stand in this grand hall,
where I am forced to expose my scars to all.
People walk by and mock my fall,
as if my feelings were a toddlers doll.
I wipe my tears in pain
to carry a soul that was slain,
by folks who made my efforts go in vain
and had all my acts, dumped away in a drain.
Dejected I kneel down to address
the evidence of my oozing out weakness,
to a hall that has the power to suppress
and turn the jury heartless.

I feel a fluttering hand on my skin
which brings upon my face a rare grin,
as I know the hand would go up-to my chin
and wait for it aspproaching twin.
Expecting the fingers to cuddle with my face,
I dream of a romantic scene on a terrace,
where the lover would warmly embrace
and freeze the ticking clock’s pace.
Such colourful feelings like mirages
drag my imagination out of the cages,
where it has only speculated for ages
that the glancing off hands were like blessings from sages.