Either you end up
In my poems
Of heartbreaks,
Sadness and misfortune
Or you end up beside me
Filling the gaps between
My fingers.

If I added up all my scars,
across my arms and over my hips,
I could stitch them up,
into untold stories and engrave them on my skin,
so everyone could see,
the vulnerability within.

If I spread my wounds across a canvas,
purple, blue, red, and other hues,
creeping on rippled fabric like stars in the night sky,
I’d create galaxies,
with craters, suns and moons,
constellations of healing wounds.

long has the sun loved
asking nothing in return
but for you to live

In youth, it was a way I had
   To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
   To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know,
   And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
   To hell, my love, with you!

Woman wants monogamy;
Man delights in novelty.
Love is woman's moon and sun;
Man has other forms of fun.
Woman lives but in her lord;
Count to ten, and man is bored.
With this the gist and sum of it,
What earthly good can come of it?

My heart is racing,
Its about to burst out of my chest.
At one point I though this was a sweet dream.
The up's and down's kept me trying
The words you sung
Had me hooked.
Until I found where you kept your poison.
And I regret that I ever took a sip.

And that was it,
I woke up
Only to realise this was all a bad dream.
A very, very bad dream.

From the tears that fall
To the pounding wall
Nothing stings more
Then the hurting inside