closing my eyes does not help me
move on - how can I sleep when my
mind still misses your mind, my
heart still misses your heart, and
my lonely soul still aches for the
comfort of your warm embrace

"vocabulary" they speak and
the phrase leaps from their tongues into
the familiar quickened heartbeat
and the incarnation is repeated again and

again. meanwhile, one word strikes and injures
while another soothes, seeks, seduces.
but with every union of word to word to phrase
the age-auld tie loosens and its power

fades, because after all it is only a
word and the word is overused and looses
meaning and now the word is dead and
decayed and powerless and dictionary.com says
'archaic'.

yes, I said, I am indeed a line,
a line with twists and turns;
but just because I'm not a straight line
doesn't justify these burns

or these scars upon my wrists,
the bruises by my eyes
at least I've never blended in
told all my 'friends' those lies -

yes, I know you don't really feel it -
the hatred towards my line -
mine may be curvier, angular, more 'bent' than yours
but that's no reason to whine

at me, for imagine this,
one day it might be different, changed.
I could be the normal, 'straight' one
and you could be the

Estranged

so, I said, draw your line,
and be careful with your mark.
for the person whose line one day crosses it
may have in theirs an arc.

When someone you love
loves someone new

your empty heart
still feels happy for
Them.

When They realise
the Hurt
that eats away at your chest

too little, too late

and Their words start pouring out
Their song sung
with such a colourful glossary;

and yours
more monotone,
and you both know then that

you're
untitled

I'm watching the wind
Listening to the sky,
What a beautiful sight
A song for my eyes

Written for a friend,
A furry friend
who stays by my side
a loyalty to lend

He's always so faithful,
there till the end
I can't be without you,
my little friend.

Remembering your youth -
a tiny thing,
big brown eyes
How I hate to think
that pain is disguised

For you can never tell
me how you feel
whether it hurts
whether you're hungry, or tired

all I know is the emotion
in your tail
that flies when you're happy,
droops down when you're frail

But all I can do is write this
short poem
and say I love you, darling
my little furry friend.