And for you, my heart swells like a new moon,
It beats like the sun at 1 o’clock in the afternoon.
And my blood rushes, gushes, like a warm winter shower;
My eyes gleaming, like a dewy spring flower

I miss the me I used to be
I miss the things I've done
The walks, the talks
The laughing thoughts
The drinks, the intense fun

My body is strong,
yet something is wrong;
This feeling deep in my insides.

Coffee won't shift it,
nor will chocolate biscuits;
My skeleton is where it resides.

Deep in my tibula,
my cranium and fibula;
Every bone within my sides.

It's all in my head,
where is my bed;
I think I'll turn in for the night.

It is as morning dew, to a sprightly spring flower
It is as crashing waves, on a summers shore
It is as wet mud, wallowing in autumnal brooks
It is as crisp snow, caught on the clough
It is as the night, to a sky full of stars
It is as love, to my beating heart

Lights wax and wane in my peripheral vision
Their lunar glow reflecting on my naked skin
So with my open arms, our kisses flow tensely
But alas I don’t know how to truly let you in

How bitter it does taste,
this measly meal cooked for one.

How mirthful do those songbirds sing,
as chronic singletons.

How blithely do those bridges burn,
over waters still and stale.

How facetious do those clouds roll by,
whilst dropping rain and hail.

How withered are those wilted whims,
to laugh and dance with glee.

How broken it does bleakly beat,
my heart for all to see.

Sometimes it just hits home doesn't it?
Bad News.
This last year has been a never ending stream of ****.
Sad News.
All these deaths surrounding me make me feel...
Quite Blue.
Now all I want to do is talk for hours,
*To You.

I long to be a river
That doesn't end in the sea
A creek for the meek
Saltwater in cheek
Aquatic heartbeats
Sunken chests
And me

I’m enjoying the day as it lives, and it breathes,
And I’ll enjoy the night as it whispers in sleep.
Let the air fill my lungs as I dance, and I laugh,
Let the sun hug my skin as I hug the grass.
As cool dark descends, and silence blows in,
My laughter will fade to a thin twilight grin.
Whether sunrise or sunset, serenity
My very own scarlet reverie

She’s not good for you, I cry;
Or rather my brains do, not I.
These feelings are a facade inside;
And yet my silver tongue, it hides
In the bed of lies it made,
In the bed of lust I crave,
In the bed I lie, amazed,
At how my heart beats, and pushes
Against the wall of constraint, it rushes
Against my own spirit, it crushes;
But she’s no good for you, I say
“Alone” for yet another day.

Deafness isn't easy to describe,
Hard as it is, for you I will try.
Maybe I'll start with how it feels,
knowing it's my Achilles Heel.
A lead balloon wedged in my inner ear,
The argument that I couldn't hear.
I knew it couldn't be fixed, there's no logical reason.
The silence remains, completely unbeaten.
Mind, it didn't stop me from trying, I gave it my best shot.
I gave it my all, all that I'd got.
I failed. Predictable.
I floundered. Imbecile.
Resigning myself to a world of silence is the toughest thing I've done.
Without telling people they just assume I'm dumb.
I'll never hear the crickets chirping,
Or my Rabbits purring.
My imagination can only do so much for me,
You can't imagine a colour that you can't see.

Sea settling,
Birds flying,
Air whistling,
Storm coming.

People leaving,
Raindrops falling,
Clouds gathering,
Storm coming.

Sun hiding,
Wind howling,
Waves thrashing,
Storm coming.

Lightning striking,
Dogs cowering,
Thunder rumbling,
Storm coming.

Tree's creaking,
Lighthouse flashing,
Ships crashing,
Storm coming.

Rocks falling,
Fear heightening,
Rage frightening,
Storm coming.

River flooding,
Forest flattening,
Landscape changing,
*Storm coming.

I am but an injured soul, living in a dim lit broken home;
A cracked shell of gilded gold, a modern Ancient Rome.
What fight left have I, against the torrential tepid tide?
An ocean of fake sympathy, and false inflated pride?
Sweet nothings beckon me, with a void of rest and respite;
Whilst ****** fecund fingers fumble, heart clenched tight.
And when the cold rain pours itself a glass,
I'll count the hours as they pass;
Upon yet another lingering lonely night.

Sometimes I think I am the flaming star,
scorching any Icarus that flies too close;
I’ve wished I were dead on many occasions,
so that I may finally feel their hands on mine.
Quench my flames that bring me life,
drown me in my weighted sorrow;
So that you may kiss my cratered surface,
and freeze with me ‘til the ends of time.

I can hear my brain whirring.
Ticking.
Tocking.
Clocking.
To and fro.
Constantly swaying back and forth.
Echoes of woe.
Mental compass pointing anywhere but North.
Circling,
Like one lobe is shorter than the other.
This puzzle has confounded me;
Why won't it work?
Am I such a berk?