I dreamt that I'd tell you,
  I dreamt I'd convince you.
I dreamt you would love me
and I too would love you.
I dreamt of perfection,
a dream so romantic.
I dreamt you would smile
and carefully panic.
I dreamt you would hug me.
  I dreamt we would both see,
together we're better -
  I dreamt you weren't choosy.
I dreamt up the ways
of how I could tell you.
I dreamt up bouquets
and a time and place too.
I dreamt that I told you.
  I dreamt that I could do.
I dreamt that it happened.
  I dreamt of a breakthrough.

instead i told you
at 3am   drunk   on facebook
*and i took it back the next morning

Never withdraw,
for that is surrender.
Such impact from question,
such hate from contender.
Uncomfortable mission,
The deed is now done.
The silence is haunting.
The silence does stun.
An answer is spoke,
it glues one it both.
A pulse gives up pulsing
as words are now oath.
Heart is to blossom
from seeds that do lay.
Yet nothing's eternal,
and the heart always pays.

Creating false hope,
dancing with fate.
I allow myself less
than my heart would now take.
I'm teased with elegance
beyond what I've known,
like a cancer with spite,
you've dismantled my throne.
Woeful misjudgements.
Harsh disbelief.
Your mind can not poison
what love can not chief.
But dear do I love,
despite all the rest.
I'm aware of mortality
too much, I confess.

I want to be haunted by you.

Want you to...

Sit down beside me, 'til I feel your presence in the air.
Watch me remember you, So you can see I still care.
Caress me in passing, leaving chills on my spine.
Visit my dreams, make me believe that you're still mine.

     Haunt me daily, and keep this loneliness at bay.
     Haunt me nightly, until my desire goes away.

I want to be haunted by you, so I can ignore the pain
Haunt me please, so I can pretend that nothing has changed.



© Tina Thompson

I miss the days we'd feed the ducks,
play hide and seek and watch TV.
I miss the days we'd laugh at cats,
their little nose and tiny feet.
Those days are gone, and now we're here.
Monsters and dark were the only fear.
Our little heads were full of glee,
we could play for hours, so much to see.

But now we sit, and hope, and cry.
I wish them back, oh how I try.
We hit an age, and all is lost,
the joy we knew, not worth the cost.
I'm in the days I worry, see.
I'm in the days I care.
Why create this world around us?
At least, for me, it seems not fair.

We could drown the world in drugs, perhaps.
Lost reality, open traps.
But why dent a soul, for each is loved.
I wish, this time, I could ask above -
But that's the answer, not above.
There's always one, a soul, a love.
We know they're there, but fear to try,
to tell that love, to combat shy.

Now think back to those younger days,
lemonade, parties, we did not pay.
But of course those days could not without
a gift, a payment, a thanks, the help.
So remember my love,
and remember it well.
For when hardship returns,
you'll want something to yell.

If I am to die today
to live last hour and pass away
to end a gift I did receive
a chance at pain and joy and greed.
Then the thoughts inside my head would die
my secrets, loves, my thoughts and lies.
And that is why I'm writing this
a poem to express my wish
to let you know the things you shouldn't
so when I die my life it wouldn't.
My life would live in knowledge kept
in things that others wouldn't let
people know about their lives
their secrets, loves, their thoughts and lies.

Poetry is the art of uniting pleasure with truth
someone once said to try and sooth
the truth they hid from all the rest
who ignore the art, who aren't impressed.
You see poetry is more the art
of uniting truth with what's in heart,
be that pleasure, pain, pride or glory
it's all expressed in one short story.
Such as this about my thoughts
for when I die I think I ought
to let you know my boring story
about my pleasure, pain and glory.

The problem is you see I can't
find a story to enchant
that does not lie, distort the truth
that would not make a better youth.
For now I've realised if I die
today, tomorrow I'd have to lie
to be remembered, kept it thought,
that's something I was never taught.
At last I know what I'm to do
to be remembered, and be true
I'd have to tell you things I shouldn't
so when I die my life it wouldn't
be forgotten, as with rest;
I'd be at peace, completed quest.

You are an illness,
my infection, my lie.
I think I might love you
but hate, still I try.

You are my poison,
my escape, my release.
I ask you to take me
for at last I'm at peace.

You blinded my heart
with both hate and corruption!
Why say that you love me?
Why face such destruction.

But no I can't have you,
you're not mine to take.
Yet still as I see you;
it's but my heart that does ache.