I feel as though i had a soul mate
and i forgot them

Whoever it is, i miss our fun times; adventures, games, autumn leaves and hidey holes out of the wind, projects, enthusiasms, unexpected visits, your wacky plans, a sense of possibility in every moment, as though we could cross oceans

The days before i feared my own freedom,
before my clothes stopped making sense.

Deep blue spring night in my lungs
filling my chest with blossoms of content
Despite being down to poo-change
& back to shining headlights on my life again
Tonight seems right in every detail
the cyclist cruising by on tiny friendly lights
this huge gum stirring above me
a white haired couple with tobacco coloured skin
who have grown alike over more years than i've experienced
Tonight makes me want to walk with and towards good company
to nowhere in particular
And I am on my way

Days pile
******* in corners of car-parks
So we drown these sorrows
delve our senses
into some sweet distraction.

She told me about it and the day it went too far and they all realised too late
eyes shut lights out the wolves stalking falling and rising to join the pack one by one small noises in the dark until there's one left knowing she's hunted and feeling frantically at the walls
It took breaking and shaking for the others to realise
Kids are the original wolves, the pack
they know how it works
instinctively

I watched a conversation
about crying, seeing a woman crying outside a meat shop, and how you would go about making someone cry, why you would want to, and kids again- how they do it just to see what will happen, or even less considered than that: blindly following inner promptings.
Another conversation: people who choose not to move forward, and instead are consumed by their own brand of madness.
Some days there's a madness in the air and a tinge of orange in our auras and i remember the horrible things
Those days life seems like a game called wolves

Of past loves and temptations
the horoscope did warn.
But how dispel those faces
Who from my heart's book i have torn?

I find the first two now are faded,
all those recollections jaded
down to barest bones of memory
they are worn

The others yet torment me
in these visions that beset me
If some days i don't know my own face
I'll surely see theirs 'fore the morn

In the end this one's a coward
though spirit on him I showered,
another faithless, the third brimful of scorn.
The last saw me disempowered
before independence flowered,
Yet their absence oft finds me still forlorn

I wish i would dissolve                                                                              & reform into something beautiful