Dig deep*
Free your mind
We are not one in front of the other
*But side by side

My blank eyes stare
In bold frustration
At the white sheet
Sitting, calmly mocking me
On the plain brown table

The pen quivers in hand
My mussels shake with shame
But try as I might
My ideas are insanely sane

No bursting fits of passion
Or inspiring metaphors
Only a page covered in splatters
From my ink of internal wars

A block of metal in my mind
A chain of iron on my hand
Glossy mirrors on my eyes
Spiking needles in my thighs

Calling for me to get up
To leave this terrible attempt
But when a poets mind is blank
Like mine
About blankness will they find a rhyme

My life I would give up for you.
Sweet baby.
I would stand in front of a dashing car for you.
My life not as precious as yours.
Why I hear the reader say?
And to you I shall respond.
I need not ponder my decision.
As you are less than one.
And you are innocent and beautiful.
Your life will seem like it's eternal.
As children never realise that all are doomed to die.
Childhood is thrilling.
You have the fizz of sparkling wine.
Within the mind of curiosity.
Your limbs so young and flexible.
You'll maybe enjoy playing football or cricket.
Dancing like the child you are, you do that now with mummy's support.
Or whatever you should fancy, as your persona develops.
Breathe in the scent of evening flowers.
Maybe night scented Jasmine.
You will remember that.
Almost, cos I said you would.
I know I always do.
I also love the smell of the tiger lilies'. As the colours of their tango vibrancy, tickles my nose.
And flatter my eyes with the itching and tears, as my hay fever bites.
(c) Liv

What if i told you that
-the night kills me
-that it hurts me to be alive
-that my blades just across the room
-that sometimes a blades my only friend
-that most wouldn't care if I died tonight
   and no one really cares about me
What would you do?
would you tell me I'm wrong?
Scream at me for even thinking such a thing,
Or would you just walk away like everybody else,
confirming my fears?

i want to be
your 6pm
dinner date
and then
your 6am
hushed kisses

i want to be both

we could go round the clock

October,
with its misty
morns --
wakes one day
to the hunter's horn.
Full splendor of the
Autumn leaves,
red and gold
the day receives.
Foxes scramble
upon the hills,
and southbound
songbirds: their
farewell trill.
Bee and beetle:
their work
is done;
flowers fade
beneath the amber  
   sun.
All hail the
turning season now --
the farmer's put away
   his plow.
Rejoice! The pumpkins
   in the fields --amidst
the scarecrows as they kneel.