My heart is racing faster then it does after I do a sprint because I'm anxious to know what will happen between me and her. My own bed has lost its appeal to me, because I can't lay still for more than a minute, I want to run. I'm having trouble making what I want to say clear because my mind is clouded with the doubt that everything I do is quite possibly wrong or flawed. And I'm telling myself to loosen my grip on my wrist, because even though my nails have been bitten to almost nothing, if I keep holding on this tight, there will be marks in my skin tomorrow morning. And I can't reread this because my eyes are watered over with a glassy film of tears, so excuse any mistakes. I need water, but I'm choking on my own spit, because my throat is caked with the words that I should have said to her long ago. And I'm strangling my poor ragged teddy bear, because he's the one thing I can tangibly hold on to in my life right now; considering I've lost my mind and I can't catch up with my heartbeat that's running away too fast. And I should have gone to bed hours ago but instead I'm wide awake with no chance of that because there heavy footed soldiers marching around in my head and they have had no order to sleep yet; so neither have I. I'm taking the slow breaths that I was told are supposed to soothe me, but how can things be smoothed over and forgotten if each breath you take is sharper and less confident than the last. And my fingers are shaking because I've never had to put something like this into words.

Breathe out the bad stuff
The fear anxiety depression
And all the nasty evil thoughts
Breathe in the good stuff
Wisdom and light
From a clear clear sky
No clouds
And inner peace and calm will come
Just as a bubble bursts
All the nasty stuff
will disappear

The Birthwaite Gardeners


The Birthwaite gardeners
are at it again
They work so hard
they look in pain
They have hung some bags
to protect their seeds
They don't mind the birds
taking the weeds
They dig by night
they dig by day
As they go along
their merry way


Keith Wilson     July 2017

I saw you today
and my heart felt sad
sad for what could have been
what never will be

we made eye contact
and in those few seconds
there was so much I wish
I could convey

just give me a chance
just give me a chance
just give me a chance

but you looked away
and I kept walking

Do you get off on the overkill?
or is it
the thrill of the undertow?

have you seen the cost
of being so lost
or
don't you want to know.

I've seen and been the derelict
that picked the losing hand
and
I've sailed on the Marie Celeste,
alone, unmanned,
unplanned.

It's a strange place to be on a stage
when you can't stop at nothing
but acting your age
playing the fool
and being nothing when
nothing becomes the
new cool.

Well
I watched the cold come in
and I saw my days grow thin
but the door swings both ways
at least
that's what they told,
I still got old.