i realised that i never finalised the finishing of writing this.. so here it is. it was done in part four but.. i felt the need to announce it. so..here. this is "obsessed."

its very easy --
to get obsessed,

getting obsessed
...but with writing?

it can hurt.

because it becomes
your only way
to cope,
to stay sane --

to be okay.

and its hard to
open up to people
after writing for so long.


and having paper
be the only one
who truly understands.

its difficult to be
vulnerable and open
about your feelings
and opinions
when writing them
is all you know.

not my best work, imo, but that doesn't mean it's bad.

I'll swing to your madness,
the old ropes your dad tied to,
a backyard fun that's been wired
and shadows, come part to blind,
and yet, surprises to this fool,
I open my eyes to you smiling
and those snap moments of giggling....
Your hair getting wrapped up here
with the nose to nose of your cheeks.

They sit beneath the moon
in their newborn love
and spoon-fed dreams.

There’s magic in innocence
that is both a promise, and
a suitcase of unopened wounds.

His toothpaste left uncapped,
and her hairbrush abandoned
on his pillow are smiles
that have not yet become
the war of the roses.

There is no map for the future,
only forever spoken from lips
not yet bruised by reality.

I feel ancient with my weight of years,
sacrifices, grief, humor, loss, and love
broken in like uncomfortable shoes.

I hear them call through a screen window
to come sit with them…
With a sigh I step out the door,
and walk out into moonlight
that one night will shine through a curtain
on two innocents who discover the
lock on the suitcase is broken.

Grinning ghouls giggling at girly goblins
Whispering wraiths raging infinite warfare
Shadowy smurfs silently in laughs stimulation
Winding rhinos en-rupting volcanic to the suns.