Jane's sick, just a common flu
Nothing she can't handle
Another workday
Same as any other
She blows her nose right before work
Tosses the tissue in to a bin
Grabs the doorhandle and walks in

George is just on time for work
Maybe today will be the day
Maybe Jane will see him today
He grabs the doorhandle
And as he walks in
He wipes the raindrops off his lips

The virus works its way in him
Just like Jane's rejection
It's like he's not good enough
But he's a good man
He knows that
Okay maybe not the best guy ever

Maybe he thinks too much of himself
Perhaps she's known better
I'm not good enough
But he knows she likes him back
she can get better
Well she's not that great either

Much does he know
That in order to be able
To cast blame on others
We must have an understanding
Of what we are blaming them for
And that can only be identified within us

Do we not have to understand
A concept before we teach it
Sure enough we must understand
What it means to not be good enough
Before we teach others to feel that way
Congrats George you passed

Jane was taught she wasn't good enough
And now George has identified with that
And George will teach it to Melissa
Who is secretly casting
Her adimiring, loving looks at him
And when George is done with Melissa
Melissa will teach it to James
And James will enforce that within Jane

The lines on his face didn't bother her
And she asked for it not to bother him
She didn't see an old man
But a kind man
A smart man

A man who, against all odds
Hadn't let the world make him cruel
Who allowed a fresh breeze
In his life
And therefore her life

She respected his suffering
Honored his soul, mind and body
And loved each inch of him
She didn't see lines on his face
She saw a kind man
A smart man

He saw games
He saw what he couldn't have
He saw the cruelty of the world
Embodied in her
Yet she had done nothing wrong

"Nothing" in the way
That perhaps her biggest mistake
Had been to allow herself to love him
To speak the words with kindness
And withstand each strike to her person

Months rolled in to years
And nothing changed
Perhaps this would prove him wrong
Or indeed it might prove him right
Only two people know

He was sat on the bridge when the stranger appeared
No words
He lit a cigarette
Then spoke
Woman
I nodded
Mortal man
Destiny unplanned
Soul who waits
His tempered fate
Let me paint you a scene
Dead body, screams
Lots of tears
No sound, as they lower you into the ground
Two weeks down the line
Slight anger
You made her cry
Made her guilty, why
You were the dumb one, stupid guy
Now you’ve gone
She’s moving on
Thats life
Though, there is another way
You could stay
Tough it out
Times change
Maybe she wasn’t the one
Who knows
Tonight you die
Or tomorrow you grow
Let me know
Then he was gone.

So, are we good?

We are good.

Good.

Better to hear
sometimes
even than

I love you.

Or perhaps
the same thing.

  ~mce

"You are mine" he said
"No I'm mine" she said relentlessly
It wasn't to tell him
She was her own person
It was to tell him
To stop controlling her

For if the love is true
Do we not want to have and hold
Our partner, soul, mind, body
But perhaps the problem
Was in the eternal checklist
The "how do I keep her" list

What jobs do I have to fullfill
To keep her with me
How do I give her what she needs
Without having to give up myself
And I guess that's ok
Be our own person

All of us need to have a sense of who we are
But what when who we are
Is not what our partner wants
Her body comes home to me
And stays loyal
She's his, his status
The girl everyone wanted

Just enough effort in bed
Just enough effort around the house
Just enough kisses and hugs
Just enough meaningfull conversations

He will never get lost in her
He will never ask her to speak her mind
He will never tell her to be who she is
The money is spent on various things
Given from the heart
Or was it ego?

The night disturbed her

She looked around

A faint light inside the wardrobe caught her eye

She was drawn to it

Maybe the reflection off the street lights

She heard the voice

Raindrops in her mind

Pleading, don’t **** me

Please, don’t **** me

She awoke screaming

The same dream, night after night.

The thought haunted her at dusk

The piercing pain

The soothing voice of the nurse

Hurt so bad, she wanted to die

A part of her was gone

Her reflection shattered

Pieces too small to put back together

The nagging loneliness

The choking guilt

Rivers running down her face

Mum, why do I see myself in a dream

You don’t, you see your sister

She’s  eleven minutes younger than you

She  died within hours after birth.

                                                 Paul  Gaffney & Lily Nurmi.

There she was again
The girl in the sandbox
Her brown hair cut short
Wearing pink shorts
And no shirt
I'm not entirely sure she's a girl

"Do you want to play with me
We can go and get my toys
And build sandcastles, play hide and seek"
She frowned at me and I wondered
Does she know how to talk
She muttered and walked away
#
"My mum sent me
She said that we should walk together"
It's early morning, -25*C
"Ok" said the girl from the sandbox
We were 8 years old
I can count the words she has spoken with one hand

It's nearly dinnertime
Where is the girl
You know the one from the sandbox
Crazy thing, she told me
Not to vacuum clean snow off the floor
And she gave me a puppy pendant
#
Now I don't live here anymore
And I don't have her number
They call us "Foreign Finns"
But sure thing if I go
To her parents house
I'll find her

Knock knock says the door
Her mum opens up and hugs me
Takes her phone and says
"Guess who's here"
And without hesitation
She says "Lily. I'm coming"

The girl from the sandbox