When you go
go gentle,
do not slam the door
slip quiet from the world without a sound,
no harsh and bitter aloe words
leave them unsaid
that time has passed
you cannot make amends
this is where it ends,
so go with grace
still your quarrelsome tongue and heart
depart

if love grins
and sinks its fangs into my heart
perhaps I would let it

if love paints my lips
maroon when it kisses
perhaps I would let it

if love wraps its arms
around me in a suffocating embrace
perhaps I would let it

for if love was to forsake
nothing but scars and wounds
perhaps I would still call it holy

and if love leaves
as quietly as it came
perhaps I would still call it love.

If I can’t work towards my future, then I should accept my death
I’m mentally terminal

Intensely over it
Giving up with passion
Raging from the depth

Nailed to the ground
Dropped like a sack of potatoes
Fights are over

There is no more fighting fire
Just burning
Crawling through the still burning ashes

She standing there with her gin and tonic
Holding it like a cross ripe
for a cruxification

She turns to smile making sure you see her
Pouring out wiles of affection on the somebody new

It's like an arrow through you
Cutting deeper than the burbon on your breath
Is it her way of making up a test ?
. . . YES !. . .

Well it's sometime between midnights
It's anytime all of the time
She holding the arm of leaving
The attention of her new guy

There's no amount of Bourbon you hush
It can't flush away the ghosts

And it must be between the midnights
It must be the last of last calls

The band's quit for the night
The pianist twinkles on the keys of exhaustion
I whisper to the glass of ice
Everything's going to be alright

I will find a way
to your heart
or die trying.