I have no friends,
I have no family,
I have no girlfriend,
I have no light,
I have only dark.
-
I will just focus on my work
and I drive on through this hell
with nothing but the dying hope
that there Is light on the other side.
I need to be here,
I can't go yet.
-
**** this black dog,
biting at my heels.

N.H.

I love...
I love the way you dress,
With frills and furling fabrics.
I love the way you walk,
With rhythmic sway and purpose.
I love the way you smile,
With half-curled lips, perked cheeks and laughing eyes.
I love the way you smell,
As if picked fresh from a gardens bed.
I love the way you talk,
So chaotic and disorganized but so sure of yourself.
I love the way you sleep,
Tangled in my arms, head upon my shoulder, soul upon my soul.
I love the way you kiss,
Quivering, curious, tender and wanting.
I love the way you make me feel,
Alive.
-
I hate...
I hate the way you dress,
With putrid colors and filthy earthen shapes.
I hate the way you walk,
With spiteful tease and slithering method.
I hate the way you smile,
With twisted jaws, and mocking eyes.
I hate the way you smell,
Like decomposing undergrowth.
I hate the way you talk,
So useless, so pathetic, so unsure.
I hate the way you sleep,
Leaving nothing but perfume on my pillow, taunting me.
I hate the way you kiss,
So distant, uncaring, so primal, so scarce.
I hate the way you make me feel,
Alone.

N.H.

I was with another woman,
talking,
and nothing else.
I promise.
While we were waiting for our food,
I ran.
In a rush of inspiration I bought her flowers,
Not  for another woman,
For 'the' woman.
I picked the ones that felt like you.
Pretty, pink, delicate.
Carnations, roses, orchids?
I don't know,
I never knew the names for flowers.
I just knew how certain I was that they were absolutely beautiful.
Perfect.
Even with their flaws and creases, all the flowers i'd seen were just that,
Perfect.
Like you.
-
I hurried home, excited
and I wrote her a letter,
an honest one.
I made a few notes
and riddles
and hid them around the house.
She followed the trail
and solved the riddles,
I didn't make them too hard
because I wanted her to get to the end.
To me,
Not the flowers.

N.H.

I wake up, wishing I hadn't.
As my eyes open,
they do so whilst dreading the light.
My breath is lead, my lungs are heavy.
My body is unwilling,
as if set in concrete.
Welcoming sweet oblivion,
But still I rise.
-
I wiggle my toes.
I move my feet,
I motivate my fingers..
I arch and stretch,
Forming twisted shapes and figures.
Fighting sweet oblivion,
Because I am needed.

N.H.

The curtains close,
the fanfare plays,
the audience applauds.
-
I've been thinking lately,
What do I want?
Why am I still here?
Where do I want to be,
in three years,
eight years,
eighteen years?
-
In three,
I want security.
I want direction.
I've never really known either.
But I don't want to settle for anything,
I don't have it in me.
-
In eight,
I want a family.
Or at least the beginning of one.
I want a loving, loyal, wife and children.
And I want to care for them.
I want security enough,
so that they never need worry at all.
-
In eighteen,
I want to be happy,
As happy as I was while trying to get there.

N.H.

Four
*******
walls.
Every material comfort,
And nothing else.
-
This room may as well be
completely ******* empty.
I am a songbird,
locked inside a birdcage.
I need to spread my wings,
I need to travel again,
I need to fly once more.
I need the open road and the ocean air.
I need the red dust and snow-speckled mountains.
I need the endless trees and campfires.
I need the pillar of smoke under the stars.
I need to be free.

N.H.

Sometimes,
when you talk a lot
and you think a lot
you start to float.
You float so far away,
That I can't quite reach you.
"Come back!"
I call
"Come back down here!"
I want to be your anchor.
I want to keep your feet firmly placed
Upon the ground.
But I don't want to cage you,
I don't want to lock you up.
I want you to be free,
But most of all, I worry you see.
Next time you float away,
I want you to take something with you.
I want you to take me.

N.H.