i miss the silence
of your empty
hand

you drive
your face breathing
a white
light into the dark

the snow
falling like ash
on the road

Don't say goodbye
say you will come back to me

I’m sending all the letters that I wrote to you.
Each on paper; plain, lined or scrap,
in pencil or pen with misspelled letters
and scratched out words.

A text would have been faster
a tweet would have been easier
but I can’t tell you I love you
in any less than 3 pages.

So I’ll take them to the post office
and send them out today
they’ll make it to you first
but I’ll be on my way.

I have this friend across the pond
As bright as clear-night stars
Intelligent and talented
And faster than souped up cars

But she has her flaws, alas
As all the best poets do
I know this to be a fact, of course
Who hasn't got one or two?

After all, it has to be said
Perfection is lack of character to me
So I'm keeping my eye on my talented friend
And watch as her mind flies free

                                                By Phil Roberts

Day 1: I want to tear my skin off. My heart is beating so fast i can barley breathe. I feel so filthy.
Day 2: I can't believe this. I don't want to be here. Why did this happen? Why did I let this happen?
Day 5: I guess I drank too much and my friends were to drunk to stop me.
Day 10: I can't face my friends, I can't live my life.
Week 3: No one knows. He hasn't said a word.
Week 6: It happened again, I was sleeping and he did it again. Why did I stay the night? Why didn't I go straight home?
Week 7: He left and kissed me goodbye. I don't know how to feel.
Week 10: My life's out of control, I can't believe whats happening.
Month 5: My boyfriend knows. But not all details. Just thinking about it, makes me want to take a shower.
Month 8: I finally came clean to my friends. They're appalled. They hate him now. I still feel filthy. I can't get his smell off my body still.
Month 11: The anniversary is soon. What am I going to do?
Year 1: I haven't spoken to him in months. I haven't thought about it in days. I still feel as if hes on top of me, why can't I wash him away?

Its an uphill battle with myself and others. Some days I can't get out of bed or even feel like breathing.
But I try not to let him get to me. Because if he sees my weakness from what hes done,
He's won.

Words are harmless, so they say,
That's where the problem starts;
Sticks and stones
May break our bones
But words will break our hearts.



Words are harmless, so they say,
And point you to their charts;
It's harmless fun,
No damage done.
But... Who will mend our hearts?



The x-rays show no damage
Where words have scathed across,
But it still feels hard to manage,
And leaves you at a loss.



Words are harmless, don't complain,
That's where the problem starts.
It's quite absurd-
A single word-
Enough to break our hearts!



But words are harmless, they maintain;
The subject of their parts,
No less or more,
So let them pour
From all our broken hearts