Common people called him stingy
And with his funds he was.
But he was parsimonious
In areas that they never saw.

                Epitaph
True, he never spent a dime
If he could get it free.
He never wasted any time
That anyone could see.

He didn’t have much love to give
And wanted no love back
He had a certain way to live
Laid out in white and black.

He didn’t give and didn’t take.
He had no use for friends.
He died alone and that’s the way
This kind of story ends
                      ljm

with her two dimesional spectacles
and security blanket hair,
she embodies the saying -
'there is a thin line between love and hate.'
and now i'm teetering off the edge,
blind to where i fall.
the feeling,
the same both ways.

there are just some moments in your life,
so irrelevant
yet so vivid in your mind.

a different person,
a different sofa.
singing while sobbing;
tears raining over skin like falling stars.

clueless about everything,
an empty ache lingered.

still.