There is always more than what we see
There is always more than what we know

That is where the path lies for us to grow
Who knows what tomorrow will bring and what will it show?

A person, a thought, a picture a dream?
So many ways that open our mind to a new possibility

A universe exists beyond the stars we see
Our soul seeks a peace somewhere in this abundant infinity

There is no chance In a lifetime that we can lose
A lifetime is a continuous chance the we can use

Whatever is our happiness stuck on to
Is an illusion, a trick making us a fool

The wind is so big.
It forces so much to move
Ever so gently.

When you appear to disappear,
a near miss in the atmosphere.
The patterns clear,
and what’s happening here,
Is the same things still,
after all these years.

Talking **** again.

Now you're back again,
acting as if nothings happened,
and,
your trying to laugh it off again,
as if were best friends,
but I can’t pretend this won’t be a repeat like last time.

Telling lies again.

When actually,
this is just your favourite pastime;
you’ve been missing in action for weeks.
No message to check i’m ok.
No call on my birthday.
Now you’ve got the cheek to call on me,
and fall on me,
as you can’t stand on your own two feet.

Drunk again.

So don’t act surprised,
like you don’t know.
When you phone you meet the answering tone.
It’s too late too atone now that i’m all grown,
Maybe you’ll find out now what it’s like to be alone.

**Never again.

There are no words
To describe the pain.

This is therefore the end of my poem.

my blood
is like honey on bones
it drips down
like an ice cream cone

A wine bottle
filled with keys
is all I drink.
I never cared
for the bitter,
sick taste of
old grapes,
taunting me.
But the bottle
fits nicely
in my hand
and I enjoy
the tang of
metal
on my tongue,
reminds me
of the blood
I used to draw
when you got
close.
Lip torn,
to kiss, or not.
To speak, or
be silent.
The keys,
I find them
forgotten
in crevices
of other
people's
lives, after
they've released
what had to be
locked away.
The edges cut
on the
way
d
o
w
n
...
Some part of me
is still soft, now
I can prove it
with the blood
I've coughed up.
Paint this truth
deep wine red,
with spare keys
jangling loudly
in my stomach
like the nerves
of my body, if
you'd listen to me.
But now when I
speak, you hear
silence.
You’re done
kissing me
and I taste
salt. Tears.
Still drinking
sharp keys from
a wine bottle,
hoping they unlock
something inside.


**V. K.