All that noise banging
Around and around inside
Each little domicile
****** from shoulders broad and  thin
Some plugged in and others not

You are salt and vinegar chips
Despicable and addicting
Hot chocolate that scalds the roof of my mouth
But I continue to crave the taste
Because those cute mini marshmallows soothe the burn as I swallow
Oddly charming

No sir,
I'm quite sorry,
but you don't, you can't, nor will you ever understand.

Please sir,
I don't want your advice,
its complete ******* to be blunt, and who are you to say what I need?

Stay sir,
Just listen to me, listen,
and let me know I'm audible, lie and tell me it matters to you (or anyone).

Really sir,
I'm doing entirely fine now,
please turn the tables on yourself so I can hear the same story again tonight.

Goodbye sir,
I must be on my way,
its fine that you won't flinch at my departure, what more should I expect from a friend?

If I were a poet
I would know the
perfect
word
to describe
how it feels
the moment I open my eyes
and realize
it was but a fleeting dream
I don't even remember what you look like
in this physical world
only a blurred image
residing in REM

If I were a poet
I could print the whispers
and wonders
and describe with diction
The raging burning battle
with my conscience
that created such
bruising and anger and irritation

the scars those thoughts have left me
They rise
with each moment of intimacy
even after forgiveness
has been mouthed over      and over       and over again

If I were a poet I'd
have the most beautiful acceptable
apology

But alas
I am no poet
or pious princess

Nothing ceases
It's always there reminding me
a personal private world
of pain

Shame
I beg you
Die with all of
last years deciet
do not                                         follow me.

Colours so vivid,
On your wings of soft satin,
Do not fly away!

*Marian~