Maybe the day I stop
Looking around for you,
Maybe the day I stop
Trying to hide the truth,
Maybe the day I stop
Turning away from you,
Maybe the day I stop
Hiding like a fool,
Is the day I'll finally stop
Trying to forget you,
But only forgive all
And move on without you*.

he's a two ****** drinker. pleads that maybe a bit more money would subdue him, a bit more leisure, a bit more love.
every sunday in secret he kneels at the pew, screaming at the alter "if only"
if only his mother never left, maybe things wouldn't be as they are. maybe he wouldn't wake up monday morning with the wood residue underneath his finger nails, the bitter after taste of wine on his tongue and the similar symbolic stain ringing in his head.
only resemblance of religion he's ever practiced, the only proof he's shouting at god for answers too.
but oh, the nights he drowns himself in liquor are the nights he said god responded once before. claims he heard his voice... he's all shaky hands now, blood shot eyes, spitting with every word... it goes unnoticed.
we never fully learn the meaning of being lifeless until we are, until we feel the bones nearing skin & the flesh between diminishing, until our marrow is blackening at a parallel rate to that of our heart,  until we've convinced ourselves the breath felt on the small of our neck is indeed god, is indeed death, it's then that we realize it wouldn't be so bad after all in the after life, if any

Trust is such a fragile thing.
Rather like a spiders web.
Sticky, mainly in the mornings.
Often wet with misplaced tears.
Trust is the spider,
Although not a widow,
it's darting round,
annoying the breathing, bleeding insecurity.
Loss of trust can be a spider bite.
Poisonous.
Laced with hemlock for a slowly suffocating death.
Remember the old adage,
if you love another soul,
pray let them fly free,
If they return.
May no more words be uttered,
For surely it is meant to be.
(c) Livvi

Don't be afraid
Just hold my hand
I can help you
Through this broken land