I sit on a swing
Unstable and free
I slide through the air
No one notices me

I sit on a swing
With a noose on my neck
The seat falls out
My life was a wreck

They put up a swing
To remember me by
The swing never swings
Their act was a lie

The tree crushed the swing
They cut that ***** down
My memory is gone
But my ghost is around

i learned that sounds
travel faster through solids
than air, so press
your mouth to my skin,
tell me stories of the places
you were scared to have
been, i'll try my best to
understand, and with all that i am,
i will listen

Brave little woman,
                                                  petrified she'll never fit in
perhaps it's her unique perception of the world,

                              or the colour of her skin.

But do not keep it all within,
                                      
                  ­                                      for the tears staining your rosy cheeks
prove you not fragile nor weak.

You are, my dear
                                                               the essence of Picasso's landscape,
                                

                                 now splattered with violence, corruption & strife

But darling have hope,                           

                                   there is far too much chromatism on this earth

                     to bathe our minds in black & white.

The shadows of love become the ghosts of the past
Found only in the smells trapped between your sheets
Friendships fade into nothingness leaving so little trace
You can hardly believe they were real
Times do change and people grow up
But every so often, someone gets left behind
Cigarette after cigarette just biding their time
Until they can again find meaning in life

I don't even have words
We crested a mountain
In down pours and
60 mph winds
now I'm home
Wrapped in clothes
and blankets
full of
memories