What we had didn't matter to me.
Didn't mean anything to me.
Without you I feel free.

Your touch of my skin didn't make me feel.
Because I knew it wasn't real.
You're nothing to me.

The words you said didn't captivate me.
Enamor me.
It was just an act,
I'm sure you'll agree.

You were just a game to play.
A heart to betray.
You're worthless to me.

You're a ghost to me.
At most you'd be,
nothing more than
a mind to ****.
A stupid schmuck.

Sorry.
Sorry.
I just needed to lie for a second.

Because my lies are your realties.
I'm done with the formalities.

It hurts. Because I cared and shared
all that was the mess of me with
somebody as unworthy as you
because I thought I knew
who you were and your intent with my heart.

I should've seen from the get that I was
just another
twit you could mold and fool.

I'm sorry.
I just need to lie again.
For a moment.

I'm fine now.
I'm strong now.
It doesn't hurt.
I'm moving on.
I'm better off.
I feel alive.
I'll be okay.

Sorry.
Sorry.
I just need to lie for a second.

I'm glad we had it.
I don't regret it.
I'm glad I opened up.
I'm glad I shared my trust.

Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry for the lies.

I’m in love with the 12th of May
A love I cannot completely convey
I wish that I could always say
The sun is shining as it shines that day
The birds and the flowers both betray
The warmth of an unseasonal ray
If only poetry could portray
The brilliance seen at the break of day
I count the seconds til underway
And I hope and I pray
To live forever like it's the 12th of May

Each town that I walk through
every person I talk to has the hue
of dull grey.
This day is no different from the last
another town passed
another chance wasted
my taste buds are chastened
I have hastened too long
I should settle down in  the next town
or maybe
these feet will betray me
again.

Footslogging ******* the days
finding the pathways that lead me nowhere
and I share this alone
in a muted tight groan that issues deep in my soul.
The hole that I've dug has become the shawl or the rug that warms me
warns me to go on
don't stop
not for no one.
The whisper that chants in my ears
seems to have gone on for years and for years,
and for years I have listened
lay in the dew that glistened as it dripped off the end my nose.
In a field by a road with a rose in my hand
I stand by the signpost that reads,
forty miles to the end by the bend in the lane.
I can't explain what that means
but it seems like I must go on
perhaps I've come to the end
or the place where they send
wanderers.

I wonder about this,
is this life giving me the kiss off
the big fix
the deep six
or is this a test?
Staying in the last town would have been best
but I've never been good at being that.
With my cane and my hat
and my clothes in a sack
I don't look back
never did.
Whatever is hid behind the shadows that slip behind hedgerows as I pass
shall remain secrets
and the towns which I slipped through that never knew me
saw through me
remain
unknown.

The world is full of
wanna-bes and
used-to-bes and
almost-wases.

And the world is crawling with
naysayers and
false speakers and
people who never speak at all.

The world will never run out of
cookie cutters and
fakes and
exact replicas.

But every once in a while,
if you're lucky, really truly lucky
you meet a dream catcher or
a dream weaver or
a dream creator.

And every once in a blue moon,
should all the conditions be right,
you meet someone who is not afraid.

Someone who will hang their feet
over the very edge of this dismal world
look down into the dark expanse
take your hand
close their eyes

and jump.

And that person, my dear,
is you.

Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes
Which starlike sparkle in their skies;
Nor be you proud that you can see
All hearts your captives, yours yet free;
Be you not proud of that rich hair
Which wantons with the love-sick air;
Whenas that ruby which you wear,
Sunk from the tip of your soft ear,
Will last to be a precious stone
When all your world of beauty’s gone.