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this time of year feels like a memory already
Sitting lonesome at the wheel
By my side the only one
Who ever tried to understand,
So many thoughts afloat,
And so many words to be said that need saying
So many words

Picking of strings float to my ears,
I can hear it but I'm not listening,
Thoughts drifting from place to place,
How I long to let it fall away
And be cleansed from what I have to say,
And so many words to be said that need saying
So many words

Before me is only what is lit
Behind is the dark that flows past
Not sure if I should say anything
There would not be much point anyway
Too many thoughts to say at once
The burden is great, near unbearable
Who is to know if that should ever change?
And so many words to be said that need saying
So many words

What is in front is all I can see
Nothing more and nothing less
It all comes to an end eventually
I before it, most likely
Always moving though the view never changes
A pair of lights approach and disappear
They always say the journey, not the destination
This journey is one what never ends
And so many words to be said that need saying
So many words

A soft glow form the corner of my w\eye
Renders the rest a dull grey
All the things that pass by
Once seen, never again
That's the way it is for everything
Here once, then gone forever
They do so little yet there are so many
Is there much point to it at all?
And so many words to be said that need saying
So many words

So now I am here in the dark
No longer moving and all is quiet
Sound that once was is now no more
Gives me clearance to ponder further
The seat to my side still feels warm
Where there was once compassion
Never will the words ever be heard
With me now they go, forever more
And so many words to be said that need saying
So many words
Just to clarify, this was my first attempt, unedited, at this kind of thing many years ago sat in a car in the middle of the night. Which is why it is like this.
Should I just drift into the path of some oncoming lights?

Has that ever been known to make anything right?
Late night driving thoughts.
I had to pull over on the side of the highway to cry at 11 o'clock in the morning today.

This isn't even a poem I'm just writing to clear my head.
You tend to me
in a way
no one else has before,
letting me grow
I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.

the water

in a deep

the water

of rain writing itself
upon its face

the water
wears a moon

until human voices
wake it

and it drowns
in everyday reality.
I am destruction.
I am the pretty flower that fought
The winter cold and lost.
Waiting on the sun that never came.
I am the destiny of all but nothing,
Foreseeing that I lost myself through
Lying naked, alone and afraid.
But in the loneliness it sparked
Despair as I discovered the concave
That occurred in my brain,
Hidden naked, alone and afraid
But finally we were combined as
Soul mates even though my soul
Was ajar only to the darkness and
In the darkness crept and I couldn’t
Fight it, it consumed me
Devoured my heart and I’m
Sorry I let it in because it is the
Destruction in which it feeds
And I was never hungry.
I lied to myself when I said
I was good, because if even
Lucifer can be portrayed as an
Angel then I must be the anarchy
That stole his mind.
For that I can never change,
I am in the depths of hell which
Structures my heart and I am the
Only demon here with no one to
Challenge but the wide-eyed look
That glares in the mirror of life.
Her heart dripped through my hands like liquid gold and I looked down in the molton puddle to find the girl I fell in the love with then down at my hands to see the reminiscence of what I had lost.
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