I see you standing there
I can see the pain masked by a smile
I can see how broken you are

I want to help you
I want to make you feel wanted
I want to make you happy

But I don't know how
I don't know what to do
I don't know how to act

I wish I could help you
I want to help you
I can help you

I've been through this
I know how this works
I know how I got through this

Maybe I can heal those scars on your wrist
I just want you to open up
I need you to open up

I know that it is hard
I understand what this means
I might not understand completely

I can try to understand
I will understand
I just need you to trust me

Please
Let Me
Help You

Don't
Shut Me
Out

Sometimes you have no reason to stay,
and realize that's a perfect argument to go.
And that taking an entirely new way,
is the sore but single method to grow.

If you're washed-on abeyance's bight,
and you feel decision's heavy heft:
To choose the left where nothing's right,
or go to the right where nothing's left.

Remember it matters not where you proceed,
or which mountain you want to ascend.
It does not matter whether you succeed,
it is the journey that matters in the end.

I remember the day we said goodbye
I think about it all the time
Spending those last two hours with you
Staring at the clock
As if I could will the minutes not to pass
As if each second didn't bring the inevitable that much closer
I felt all the words I didn't know how to say sinking to my stomach
All the times I thought about begging you not to go
All the wars I knew I would lose
I remember staring at you for too long because I knew eventually I would forget the details of your face
The dimples on your cheeks, the smile that filled your entire face, the eyes that made me weak and the laugh that brought me to my knees
I knew I would soon forget these things
Not by choice
Not like one day you wake up and just can't remember anymore
It's much more cruel than that
It's every morning you wake up and feel a little bit farther away
The memory of you feels even farther out of reach
And you try,
You try like you wouldn't believe
I try to force feed myself the memories from that day
The cold winter wind making our noses numb,
Our fingers intertwining,
Your hand anchoring itself to my waist
But that was months ago
And some days I don't know how we got here
Some days you feel so ******* far away
Some days I don't leave our bed because everything hurts too bad
But every day
I love you more than the last
And I miss you more than most

.
Snow drifts down
     laying a lawn cold sheet
across the frozen ground,
          creating art reliefs
like acid etching glass,
open space rolling and undulating,
in small hills and depressions,
     bedecked in a veil of white.
The silence is deafening,
quiet having been enjoyed
     and surpassed,
briefly punctuated by the call of a bird,
     A sharp whistle that shrieks
and attacks the silence.
The fresh smell of snowfall wafts up
     as it settles and glistens
in the light of silver moonbeams,
randomly peeping through clouds.
The taste of peace,
                     tranquility,
in the frigid air,
sends imagination soaring
from the desolation of isolation
to another time and place.
          The snow falls,
     falls,
in a relentless race for the ground,
               all is still,
               nothing stirs,
as the moor welcomes its quilt
and sleeps with a cold heart,
     dreaming,
                       of being kissed by the Sun.



© Pagan Paul (28/05/18)

.
The emptiness is full of lost joys ...

The heft and fall
          of a wood axe
                    splitting down winter logs
The sight of girls
          pretty and fair
                    exposing flesh in the sun
The smell of flowers
          scented breeze
                    and fresh mown grass
The pint of real ale
          quenching thirst
                    after a long days graft
The company of friends
          killing loneliness
                    laughing and telling stories
The piquant moments
          of happy and sad
                    when tears flow easily
The arms of lovers
          on a cold night
                    and raising a heartache
The taste of fruit
          so ripe and lush
                    dribbling juice down chins
The feel of a smile
          crossing lips
                    releasing hormonal pleasure ...

The emptiness is full of lost joys …



© Pagan Paul (03/06/18)

her ring sits on the mantlepiece
worn thin on one side
that dull warm yellow
that gold sometimes takes on

i remember it cutting into my hand
as she held it tightly as we shopped
it was bright and shiny then

she used to wear it on her  longest finger
after dad left us, she left it off for awhile
and then wore it on the other hand

it was tight on her workworn hands then
she took it off again before she went into
this last home, but kept it locked in a security draw

now it sits on the mantlepiece, waiting
for me to find a safe place for it
for it is the little bit of my mother's spirit
that will one day be part of my son's  wedding ring,

We dance in the ashes like
Literary scavengers.
In the ruins and after rages
We draw the shreds of words and pages
Around our naked bodies like Blankets,
A quilt of the quintessential struggle
Which all people suffer