She paints a pretty picture
she says the nicest things
outside she's always smiling
though demons live within.

She wears the latest fashion
Is surrounded by her friends
She goes to all the parties
but the torment never ends

She always feels so helpless
while alone beneath the stars
She paints a pretty picture
the girl with all the scars.

Heat settles like dew
forming waves
above glistening tar
summer's slow breezes
are but a rumour now.
Birds fly amongst the blue
their song irrepressible,
chimes through the haze
as bees bustle busily
past parched pavements
to gather the nectar they crave.

The poppy field stirs
as spring breezes graze the silence
sending birds to flight
Hush, do you hear them?
a thousand souls that cried for home.

All men wear white crosses here,
the rows glisten
standing straight and tall against the sky
Shoulder to shoulder
finally at one with peace.
There will be no reveille as dawn breaks
No call to arms for these brothers of battle.
Only quiet remembrance.

I travel roads of deep despair,
chasing a shimmer of hope on the far horizon, forever out of reach, it's  sullen beauty lingers at dusk, calling
yet never yielding to my touch.
Time sleeps within the darkness
it stretches and wanes within waves of poison doubt
speaking my conscience
killing the last of me.
Knowledge presents itself slowly
that caustic drip
an ancient thirst
to  covet moons.

Come let us shake off our heavy clothes
down by the river where no one goes
fears will be falling like dominoes
where this is leading no one knows.

Swim with the fish and the dragonflies
clouds are reflecting in your blue eyes
swim against the tide, we can only try
evening will come to pass by and by.

Come let us join up our weary hands
tell tales of treasure and foreign lands
here in the water we'll play our parts
leading the charge with our beating hearts.

Come let us shake off our heavy clothes
down by the river where no one goes
fears will be falling like dominoes
where this is leading no one knows.

My skin is but a map of scars
a journal of all the times I have betrayed myself.
Raw emotion settles in silver lines
multiplying with every breath taken
in fear and rage at my reflection.
I write meaningless lines in hope of cure as I carry the weight of their shame. I let them go, to travel into the ether in hope of reply, of friendship, of hope that I am sometime seen. A doppelganger of my former self, I writhe and spit lines at shadows, the longing too deep to name, my loneliness a constant echo within the barrens of my mind.

There upon the foamy waters
boats rock with silent ease
all about reflects the sky
forget me not blue
stretches the miles.
Hushed I watch the majesty
of simple lives
Under the toil of the sun
boatmen sing their nets ashore
shimmering with life
as though the dawn itself were caught
within
a single bell, chimes skylark sweet
keeping time with the rhythm of all.
Calling home calloused hands
to pretty parlours
where rest and the devil take hold.

I am doomed to keep repeating
this hateful cycle, self defeating
bleeding red through open sores
set up to be deaths only chore.

These many coloured choking pills
that rush my blood but cure no ills
have taken hands too raw with pain
and bound them tight against the rain.

There is no finer love than this
between my soul and fires kiss
which burns my throat and scars my heart
while keeping love and life apart.

I was made of glass
fragile and hollow by design
reflecting those around me
but never quite fulfilled.
I shattered, tiny fragments glistened
like tears
But still I felt nothing.
Sorrow slipped silently
numbing a soul hungry for all yet thirsting for none
I sat in darkness waiting
for you to see the sunbeams
glancing off the shards and think them beautiful
but you were blinded by so many splinters
that you could never imagine the whole.

I did not hear your cries as I wrenched a thousand words from my breast,
nor your protestations as my eyes recalled yet another deep magenta sky.

I did not see your tears of frustration as I marvelled at the world,
singing at snow angels and harbouring the winter chill.

I did not feel your heartbeat leave mine as the russets fell
nor did I  hear you call my name over my frustrated sighs and readily tempered ego.

I did not notice your silence
until I saw you drowning as I described the water.