it's not your fault baby bird
they never taught you how to fly.
you were forced out of the nest
while they watched you fall and die.

Please O' Lord
Don't let this consume me
This burning urge to do injustices
To violate her sheets
To desecrate her temple
God Almighty
What a beautiful temple you've made
Carved to perfection, it entices me
How can I resist this temptation?
She is my every craving
Tell me Dear Lord
Is it wrong for me to admire your art?
To gaze upon the bareness of her walls
Feel the thickness in her stature
And if So...
forgive me Father
For I can no longer restrain my hands
My tongue can't stay in its cage
My body can not be with out hers
She must be consumed by me
By My lust
~Corona Harris~

i am a prisoner to your fingertips and i am recidivating and falling in love with a jail cell is not glamorous but i’m not sure how to stop
i have scraped my fingernails with barbed wire trying to get rid of you, why won’t you leave?
there are gaps between our teeth so the breath between you and i can keep us alive during the times we binge on kisses
is this what it feels like to be an addict?
i cannot rest until your lungs have swallowed my consciousness and for a heart to keep beating there must be a reason and this is why people die of heartbreak because ******* it, there is no reason without you
my heart hasn’t stopped beating; i think it is just as hopeful
teeth don’t always have to bite so why do you use them as weapons?
not only am i a prisoner to your fingertips but to your mind, to the gaps between your teeth even when you can’t bear to kiss me, to the idea that one day i’ll receive a get-out-jail-free card and you’ll be waiting at the iron gates for me
i don’t have a release date but i expect i’ll be serving a lifelong sentence
i am barricaded in and all i can hear is your voice all i can see is your face all i can do is clutch on to the voice i lost a long time ago but i would scream if i could and do you know how lonely it is being a prisoner in an abandoned jail?
i am a prisoner to your body and every time you demand my touch, i am there and every time you throw me away, locked up and silenced for days, i am not plotting my escape
i am famished and starved and famished and starved, i think it’s because you keep swallowing my consciousness and no amount of food will fill me; i have grown accustomed to being empty
i am a prisoner to your fingertips and i have fallen in love with this jail cell home

The  Canal  stands  out  in
early  morning  splendour.
Freshly  painted  small  boats
Line  up  in  the  early  morning  sun.

Mallards  duck  and  dive
Across  on  the  far  side.
The  white  clad  houses  reflect
In  the  water  in  mirror  fashion.

The  Red  of  the  boathouse  stands
out  against  the  Green  of  the
summer  dressed  trees.

Yes,  sometimes  it's  good
to  be  alive.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Water droplets on skin and tears mesh together
It shows nothing
You can’t see it
It’s there
It weighs you down then breaks you slowly
You try to fight it
It’s oh so hard
You want to give up
You want to wait
You want to see the day when your breathing isn’t cold
When your heart isn’t filled with black ink
When you can smile easily again
But for now
You’re filled with cold ink
The kind that fills every area
The kind that takes something you love and covers it
The kind that you try everything to make it go away and sometimes
it turns clear
You can’t see it
But it’s there

Im confused
Im unsure
Where's my mind
Out the door
With my heart,
And my life,
You took it all
You took my world.
You were the sin I could excuse
the mistake I knew I'd choose
The regret I didn't mind living with
As long as we both knew the truth.
Trying to get in sync, before I sink
Don't think.
Won't speak.
All I do
Is breathe and repeat.