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we all  narrate
our own destinies
smoothing the edges of
dubious memory
so we become hero
or victim, as we see fit

we paint our words with
colour and passion
and make some areas
grey or black
shading the story,
so that our heart remains clean

it is only in the small print
foot notes, that we write
codiciles and retractions
that we give a nod to time

the nebulous truth
obfuscated  by time
and the blurred re-telling
becomes the urban legends
of our minds....

our very own fairy  tales
and once upon a times
seen through the
kaliedescope of fathertime
My brother's and I all remember the legend stories of our youth...differently
 Dec 2017 Ironatmosphere
 Dec 2017 Ironatmosphere
I'm grateful
to view the moon
and it's beauty
let its light touch my body

To see the sunset
the magical  
time of day
where the sun goes off
to shine other parts of the earth
see the sunrise
coming up again to
light up my day

I'm waiting for spring
to see the flowers bloom
the trees living
butterflies flying

I'm waiting to live again
be connected with everything around me
 Jun 2017 Ironatmosphere
everything about you
was soft
from the way you brushed my hair away from my face
and gently kissed my cheek
to the way you rested your hand on my back
or slipped it securely into mine
everything was soft
except for the way you looked at me
for your eyes were hungry
and drowned in desire
but they were rough waters
i would love to slip under

 Jun 2017 Ironatmosphere
in the world of make-
believe, you're the illusion
and i'm the dreamer.
i need to stop writing about you.
 May 2017 Ironatmosphere
maybe being honest
is always so tough
because to you
my everything
is never good enough

 May 2017 Ironatmosphere
i was in a lowercase kind of mood

 May 2017 Ironatmosphere
The kiss of death
awaits us all,
but some await
the kiss of death.
 May 2017 Ironatmosphere
i bleed my soul on paper
all through a poets euphoric bliss
to avoid bleeding life
all through severely broken wrist

 May 2017 Ironatmosphere
there's a wonderful pain
when metal touches skin
that somehow releases
monsters bottled within
quick hand movements
observed through tear blurred eyes
and if you go deep enough
you can earn deaths sweet prize
but waking in the morning
with red stained arms
leaves you paranoid with guilt
setting off silent alarms

 May 2017 Ironatmosphere
 May 2017 Ironatmosphere
i need help
before i help myself
because my helping hand
is only leading me to hell

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