In light of the fact you ******* hate me,
Please refrain from your ******* game,
You've made it clear through years of torture,
That disgust runs through your every vein.

In light of the fact you know I'm lonely,
Please stop reminding me every day,
I don't need you to show me a new path,
If it's alright with you I'll just stay.

In light of the fact I've heard your crying,
Don't think I believe your act,
I'm fully aware that you feel emotion,
I was there the day you cracked.

In light of the fact you wish I'd die,
I might decide to do just that,
Would it make you feel so much better?
If my heart's line was finally flat?

In light of the fact I'm sick of your ****,
Could you please shut the **** up?
If only you understood quite how hard it is,
To drink trust from a broken cup.

In light of the fact I've had enough,
Maybe you could leave me alone?
If you let me get on with my crumbling life,
I'll let you get on with your own.

If music is love expressed, then how will my song play?
Will each phrase be smooth with content or broken by loss?
Will the notes be frantic and panicked, like my searching heart once was?
Or steady and certain, as my head is now?
Will  the hands on the keys be shaking and cold?
Or free from fear and dancing in confidence?
How many voices will join the ensemble?
And for fleeting moments or prolonged duets?
Will I keep moving forward with driving rhythms?
Or pull everything back and take a more leisurely pace?  
Maybe there will be a turning point, when dark becomes light, or when shadows grow stronger still.
Or perhaps a gentle fade, as each perfect harmony wears away at my soul.
Whether the music rises or falls does not concern me, however.
For the beauty of music is not in the highest note or the hardest bar.
It is in the reason behind every dot on the page.
And In the end there is no point in music for the sake of music, just as there is little point in love for the sake of romance.
I know there will be moments of unsure dissonance and outright clashes that were never meant to be.
But I'm hopeful, that in the same way as in music, eventually all will be resolved.
So I hope not for drama, but an unforced and natural conclusion:

**A perfect cadence.

My face unchanging,
Keep bitter tears out of sight,
Then escape, my smile.

Binary emotion,
On or off,
Smile or frown,
Love or hate,
One or the other,
No in between,
A painted mask,
To hide my eyes,
That run a system check,
On every face in range,
Good or bad?
Trustworthy or liar?
Decided immediately,
By a single glance,

But only outside cyberspace,

For on connection,
The server responds,
My mask fragments,
I release the inner-workings of my soul,
To so many,
And my fake smile,
Finds new truth,
In words flickering on a screen,
My feelings reconfigure,
And my default gateway,
Becomes conversation,
Not a cold shoulder,
Reboot.

She stands
Eyes down
She stares
Eyes down
The sea laps around her feet
Her eyes stay down
The waves kiss her ankles
She keeps looking down
Her hair blocks her view
She refuses to look away
A hand on her shoulder
She ignores it
Slowly it pulls her in to an embrace
She keeps looking down
His arms do not stir her
Eyes down
His lips on her forehead do not wake her from her trance
Eyes down
His whisper in her ear turns her gaze upwards
Eyes meet
Tears fall
Smiles share
"Together?"
"Together"

A single candle glows,
In a shadowed room,
The warmth it gives out,
Does little against the gloom.

The flame has burnt for so long,
It's begun to feel the strain,
The wax and wick are burning low,
An end to light's long reign.

The feeble glow begins to die,
Reflected dimly in the glass,
Of windows showing only dark,
The final night at last.

It clings on for as long as it can,
Though by now weak and frail,
Its fuel is used up, no longer it shines,
And inevitably, it fails.

With a slow, painful splutter,
The flame flickers and fades,
The last light goes out,
Marking an end to these charades.

Poetry
Music
Sleep

Eyes unable to pierce the night,
The darkness surrounds,
As even the comfort of colourless sight,
Is nowhere to be found.

Though the warmth of the sun can still be felt,
Its radiance is hidden,
As though icicles and snow can still melt,
The light is forbidden.

The stars in the sky are invisible now,
Unseen by all,
Nobody questions why or how,
As the entire galaxy falls.

When light is gone, we still remain,
Us with black hearts,
As we are required for the rotten mainframe,
Of darkness' brand new start.

The briefest of conversations,
The most serious tone in her voice,
As she explained the end was here.

I listened, helpless, as she told me,
That I wasn't worth it,
That she didn't feel the same as before.

I watched as she stood to leave,
Avoiding my eyes,
Picking up her bag to walk out of my life.

I told her to wait, a final, desperate attempt,
I told her I'd do anything,
She said: "I don't think there's anything you can do."

And with that, the best two months of my life,
Came to a bitter end,
With tears, regrets and despair in control of me.

The hardest part is not that she's gone,
It's that I can't bring myself to hate her,
I still love her.

But I guess that wasn't enough.

Farewell, you who showed me how to smile,
Be happy,
If I can't do that for you, I hope someone else can.

The only time you don't lie to yourself

"Nothing, nothing's wrong,"
I wave concern away,
While I see their faces in greyscale.

"I'm fine, just stop worrying,"
I mutter, to them?
Or to myself, to persuade my own mind?

"It's OK, honestly,"
I lie to all,
While the world closes in around my head.

"Leave me alone, it's nothing,"
I scream as my legs give way,
They gather, I try to hide from their curious eyes.

"Nothing, nothing's wrong,"
I whisper on the ground,
Curling up to shield my ears from the echoes of confusion.

"Everything's going to be fine,"
I tell myself, forceful now,
I bat away the doubt that invades my mind.

But still there is no light,
I am not blind, but I can't see,
I am not angry, but rage builds,
Finally I snap,
A fist,
Contact,
"Stop asking."

Why do I always feel worst on the best days?

Society's light is one of oppression,
It hides in the shadows the manipulation,
Of likes, favourites and ratings,
And of course, the TV stations,
That tell us how to live.

But there will be a time,
When someone opens up their mind,
And notices the signs,
That dictate our every step.

Why not today?

Let's smash up the light bulbs,
And pull out the fittings,
Let's switch them off at the mains.

Let's wreck up the power stations,
And cut all the wires,
So only darkness remains.

It's time to listen to the crying stars,
It's time to listen to the silent cars,
It's time to listen to the city at night.

Because the city at night is shouting:
Louder!
Louder!
And the rain on the pavement's calling:
Stronger!
Stronger!
And tribal rhythms,
Inspire the buildings,
To get up and walk.
And driving heartbeats,
Persuade the dark streets,
To rise up and talk.

"It's time to stand up for what we believe in!
It's time to show the world how we're feeling!
Because the light has blinded them from our point of view!
From our vantage point beneath your feet,
We've observed the city that never sleeps,
And realised it needs to change and let the darkness through!"

And all the onlookers and sympathisers,
Respond with a chant,
That shakes society's foundations to bring it down.

We don't want to fit in!
We don't want to give in!
To peer pressure within
Every waking day!

We all want to regress!
To when we all had less!
When money hadn't quite messed
Up every word we say!

As every light goes out,
Each with a bolder shout,
Those in charge watch in awe as the revolution wins.

The entire city unites,
To bring about the night,
A dusk to match the dawn of humanity's sins.

But in the morning the sunrise,
Brings the reform to its demise.

And light obscures the strings that control our minds.

I heard that tone twice,
Once to tell me of failed love,
Then that ours was too.