Sleep brings colour and clarity to my day

Even as I am drying up I can feel the flow
I am able to listen to her needs without hearing her cries
her smile becomes contagious
I plan my day to escape to see her instead of from her

It's clear even as a 3 month old she is the light of my life.

Well now, don't you look pretty.
Sitting up there,
With your nose in the air,
but with a pinch of pity.
Could it be that maybe I don't care?
Or should you cross the wires...
If not for the fires,
that burn so bright with piece of misery.
I can't explain, but maybe you?
For the deals we make,
our souls we break,
We cannot get back.
Trust him he's tried,
but Satan don't lie.

Gagged and bound,
gasping for air,
the feel of despair,
a small price to pay,
burning from the inside,
one way ticket, no return,
tears before darkness,
slipped into coma,
asphyxiation, the lovers choice,
soul rising higher and higher,
soaring to a greater height,
kiss the transcending being,
seek no longer to heal,
seek only for resolution.

Waiting on your call
When I've asked
day after day
hour after hour
for you to call
for you to be there
And yet all I know is that you
and I
are miles away and all we can do is
text.
and
Snap
and
chat.
What point is there to talking
to feeling
to being
to loving
when no matter how far I reach my hand
you dash before me, my fingertips
brushing your skin.
But I can't lose
it.
loose you.
So I wait.

What of life and all that’s been,
Mine was stolen on a field of green,
For king and country, god and mum,
laid down in the shadows, never saw the sun.
100 years is mine to tell,
no comforting arms for those that fell,
I ask no pity, tears or plea,
Just once on a morn, remember me.

There are people who cut themselves,
Some of these people are the most sane people I know.

There are people who burn themselves,
They have some of the brightest personality's I have seen.

Some of these people you may tell,
Go **** yourself.
It's all for attention.
Or maybe even,
Cut a little deeper, it's not like anyone cares.

But what you don't see is,
They are all ready battling a pain inside,
It's not something they can just up and hide.

It's almost as if there are demons inside,
Telling them the lies,
That there eyes are to far apart or,
Their thighs are twice their size.

These people were once happy,
They were once beautiful in there own eyes.

But now they have broken,
It's almost like their souls are shattered window panes.

But you don't understand is all they seem to feel is pain.

Pain is becoming like their middle name.

It's all they feel,
All they breath.

It's almost like every breathe they take,
It's almost like breathing acid.

But just remember some of them are,
The most sane.

I was once like you,
but now I am a here,
I sit and wait for hours and days,
why can’t anyone see me,
they seem to look right through,
I feel no hunger, feel no thirst,
what is this that I have become,
I am like the moon and sun,
caught on a film that always runs,
I am lost forever in this twilight haze,
so many things I do not understand,
I walk around on a busy street,
eyes to eyes that never meet,
that spot on the road looks so familiar,
immense pain it would not wait,
I think this was where I met my fate.

A black fruitbat
swaying across the half moon_
of mid-september


#HAIKU

One day Professor George Knox
Sunbathed on some Greek rocks;
He saw something rude:
A girl swimming ****.
So he photographed Pandora's box.

Restless nights
days dreary and dour
abandoned in
our darkest hour
treacherous actions
yet unloathable soul
desperately living
off burning out coal

I ask my eyes to remember.
They have so much to tell.
I ask my memory to work with
Them, but it's stubborn,
Like an old pair of shoes
Letting in rocks and
Gravel.
We've walked enough.

I ask my lips to remember
Old juvenile softness,
My ears the sound of wind
Through rainforest foliage; a
Creek drizzling down a water-

Worn hillside, but all is so
Vague after the years between.
Some things resurface,
Then sink back into oblivion.
So much mind wasted on
Everyday trivialities.

I was there,
I tell myself when
Trying to recall the Italian song
Thrown between the brick walls
On either side of the narrow
Canal, as the gondola slid under
Yet another ancient bridge.
I could smell
The water. Filthy and beautiful.

I'm here,
I'll keep telling
Myself as always. Eyes
Resting on the
Ground Of Now,
Neck too sore to look
Back and focus.

Ears hearing her muttering
In sweet sleep, then opening
Her eyes to look into mine,
Touching my

(I'm here)

Face with feather fingers, then
Closing in on herself to
Sleep on, safe and warmed
By present love.

My eyes still see.
Ears still wallow in music.
My skin still

(I'm here)

Feels the touch of something
Wanting to touch it,
Touch it.

For now, I'll listen to
My shoes.