Glutinous envy consumed
                         her features.

Once a creation of life's art.

Distortional envy cracked,
                               a fractured shell.
                      
                            Pieces fitting incorrectly.

The Devil never
          killed anyone,


              he let gods children

do that in his name...

Woman have
                  more ***** then men
most of the time.

       It's pity that

men are bigger *******
                      all the time...

If you want to walk in another's  
            footsteps,
           always tie the laces..

That way you can
                    feel the tightness,
  And the holes in there soul.

Afterwards,
            let them walk
with you for a while.

That way they know that
every path
                    isn't walked alone.

If some one stabs you in the back,

               see who pulls it out.

There the ones you have to be careful of.

Because if they saw who did it and didn't
stop it..
         they just wanted to see you in that pain.

If I always relived the same day.

                                  The only thing
that I'd never get fed up of seeing
                                                 is you.

I think more clearly when I sleep,

        its when I'm awake,

                                  
that I'm overly confused???

In a world of noise,

            you were my silence.

And I just listened to you all day.

I was never really
                 a me person,

                 but I was always

a you person..

We are all locks,
           that only a few keys
                          can unlock.

But you weren't like the
                                   others,
you picked mine and discarded it.

From then on, I was always open to you..

People think I'm just
an empty jar
                 with a lid on it.

But you took the lid off,
and looked underneath
                              it..

And it said!

"If your reading this
              then you know
             looks can be deceiving,

I wasn't ever empty,
                           I just didn't
                            show myself.

But you saw underneath the façade.

I was never really
         a book to read.

Most people understood
                me in a sentence.

The rest of me, was just doodles.
                And if you got to the next
                                                     page,
you didn't really know me at all.

I'll never be the petals.

                   I prefer to be the thorn.

That way when you bleed,
            at least you know
            what your holding is real.

Life
is
a
short
fuse...…..
so
never
light
it.

Walking
in
a
straight
line
never
gets
you
to
anywhere
              faster.

To
heal,
you
first
have
to
know
what
         cut you.

The price of love is
                       invaluable..

The currency of
                  heartache is

                  spare change.

But I'd rather
be broke,
              and have you.

I never looked both ways
             when I fell in love..

And was hit hard
                   bruised & cut
         I healed.

I looked both ways
              when I saw you
on the other side.

This time I waited.

       You asked me
               why I crossed this
road again?

And I said because if the
            chicken can do it..

With that she laughed.
      smiling she asked

"Would I cross any road,

I said, only yours to see what awaits
                                 on the other side

I was the needle and
        you the wool..

Before we were one,

                I was blunt and
you where unwoven..

But once we came together.

                         We where entwined
in the creation of what we became.

You where the binding of everything,
               that I sewed every effort into.

And together we created something
                                                  that lasted.

Sniffing her **** cloth,
                    so fresh..

Hanging in the wind..
            
The moon shows him,
               there like flags on
                        a hill top to capture...

She wakes up in the morning
             to find that her Frenches

have gone a miss...

Hearing the sneezes,
             from her next door
but one neighbour..


"You perv..
                "Watch out what you sniff,


Her ****** never went missing after that day,

                           but her eyes did water a few
                                                              da­ys later...

Forgetting that the itching sneezing  powder
                                      wasn't in only one..
  
           and she giggled as she gently scratched.

Every page that I wrote upon
                        scribbling words
                                 syllable features
of the faces I was trying to peel on
                            the pages.

But then I ******* each one up,
           reflections sewn on again.
blunt metaphors reattached
                                    that I had
           been able to remove where

one again back where they began.

All I needed was to remove this
                                 weight hanging
heavy upon my every façade.

Where just *******
               on a fire
  that
        isn't even  lit

Expecting to keep
                        us warm
           with smoke choking
                      our resolutions.

Gather me upon the wind,
       so I may whisper words
                                        of serenity.

Gather me upon the ground,
         so I may feel the footsteps of
                                  another's life.

Gather me upon the waters,
        so I may wash within the
               memories of teardrops.

Gather me upon the embers
            so that I may warm upon
                      the thoughts of others.

We may gather for many reasons,  
              different aspects of the same
                                                  wanting.

But we all have that moment in life
                   where each one will touch
                                             our lives.

I held the Stanley knife to
                          my wrist..

Holding on to the grip,
              trying to warm the

cold metal...


I was there for the whole of my
                                                 life..

But the blade was never within it..


I just needed to know that
                    I was strong
                            enough to not make the

mistake of giving in.


And this was a reminder,
                as the first time the metal was cold..

And the blood warm.


                   Now I  remind myself that
even though I hold a blunt instrument
                          its a reminder that given time
everything cuts...

They said my life was
                     just dead-ends..

So I just got out my car..


Walked over the fields,
                 and walked along
another path of life..

Just because some one says  your life  
                                        are dead ends..
That doesn't always mean you should
                                                              listen,

because after every dead end
                   is another journey,
                   just in a different direction.

Aloft starlight
                      shimmering in
  separation of its kin..

Not realising that everyone,
     is a pre-recording.
           A blink in time,
to tell them they where there..

Then darkness, and they
                 are more alone than
                                        

                      ­          before...

I could hear her words,
              faintly..
       like an echo through water.

But I want drowning.

  When I was in the womb
          I swam in darkness..

Now all I see is
            white heavy clouds,
            depriving me of breath...

The last thing I saw was my mother
                        crying,
as my father
        ran with me, then I saw blue..

And knew he'd never let me drown
                          in her arms..

As late snow fell,
              euthanising
                                    the buds.

                            Frozen foetus
           of spring,
                      never blossoming.

The lumber jack, was on his way
             home.
Driving through a woodland of
                                creaking trees.

They found his car, the rooftop
                                    crushed..
         gusts of wind blew through
                                     the tree tops...

And the coroner and police officer
                                shuddered
      as
           they gazed at each other..

Is it me or does the wind blowing
             through the leaves sound like

                                                 laughter..

And with that another branch fell
upon the already mangled wreckage..

             They had to make sure he was
                                  really felled,
                            there was no warning.

And as the breeze continued the noise
                turned to screams, whistling
                                                 around the pair..

Both cars where found later on
                                               the next afternoon..
                 hundreds of meters from each other with..

                                         Buckled rooftops..

Even there was no wind, the rustling leaves
                               sounded like far away laughter..
                                and the group just looked in confusion.
They where outnumbered and didn't even realise it.

The bruises where torn petals,
           that fell with every word.

The thorns cutting it to my mind.

And when I was adorned with the
                  blossom of your actions.

I would never rise to another sunrise.

In the morning we crawled
            in the afternoon we walked

In the evening we reminisced of
                                      early times.

When night fell we where silent,
                                   cradled in death.

But before it all began
                                   was the dawn.

Where we were just a thought,
       arising to a potential
                           no one knew about..

We are all hurricanes with a tight environment,
             Sometimes we pass each other..

                      Low pressure meets high pressure,
and all that happens is a storm within a tea cup..


                                       But even they overflow
and condensing emotions..
                      that don't descend causes a friction
that can  release a static discharge
                                      that doesn't only
hit once but twice...

             And all hit the ground with a failure of restriction.

Where all a weather system
               of contemplation.
Emotions either glide on the wind
                                   or release on the unwitting below.
No matter everyone will feel the brunt of a storm sometime

Though silk is upon silk,
          foolish people do not understand
that we glide upon each other.

We need not the roughness,
                               of sand paper elopes.

Fingertips dream upon the other,
                   never a rainbow drowning,
                but guiding me to the love of you.

We are the masculine of each others holdings,
                 tightly within the softness that
every kiss weaves between our bird nests..

                           And the song birds do whistle.

We where never ashamed to hold tightly to each other.
              For we are both Adam.. and we nibbled on
                                                   the rib of the other Adam.

We're all free to love who ever falls within our
                 heart beat,
                                    no matter who we are.

All love comes from a singular beat,
                               and you where the rhyme
that fell in to the arms of me.
                                    And together we found our worth.

Love is breath
                         that can be either kept in

or slowly exhales
till all that is left
           is a moment gasping
                         for what was before.


                                                          But.­.
if we can only hold our breath
                                    so many times,

Lets hope we can keep one in
                                  long enough
                        to last a life time.

Woven beneath my surface
                 are the impacts
that never left a crater..

But I still feel the repercussions  
                                     even now

flowing over the surface...


Shockwaves that every so
             often make me shudder.
                                Even though it was in the past
the impacts are still felt beneath me.

She'd asked for a teabag
                
                     one lump or two.

I asked casually??

But replied that she didn't need one
                at the moment!
and could
                   I drop them off later.

So as she slept, I edged closer..
            her mouth open..
         I asked did she want
                    one bag dipped
                                 or two..

She sheepishly said in tired mummers
                                                   two....

And believe me with her mouth ajar.
                   they fell into her warmth..
                          Swilling in here moistness
As  she gagged...
                ok may be I should have
                                              dipped one..

Because now my bags are swollen
                     and I'm not dipping them
                                       anywhere soon..

We all have questions of our motivations          
              and endeavours of life's
cause and effect.

Then we realise,
   life is a challenge of moments.
      And how we play the game  
                                of our finite continuing...

Do we give up?

                             Or do we collect our strength.
      Showing all that where stronger
                        than a question mark..

That falls at every ending to a query?
           But why must we be hooked by this.
                       Now answering it before
  we need to even explain ourselves..


Be stronger at the start
                        and never  question
                           where we finished.
Because to question ourselves
                     only leaves more question marks..

The morality of our present
                           will have implications
       on the repercussions

of what it means to be moral.

For the principles we bestow
       on others
                                of future words,
                                          of actions.
Will acknowledge
                    the motivations of future references.

Our ethics aren't beckoned by
       beliefs or
                         regional confides.
       They are moulded
on the evolution of our
                                     evolving humanity.

Showing that no matter our distance,
                                               the substance
                         of each.
Is morally imbued
                         within the fibre of each moment
we collect and share upon each other..

Breath was exhumed from the corpses
lingering impressions.
   But all were merged beyond
                           the futile emotions of the flesh.

For where reflections were void,
             only true deliberations stigmatized.
                                    Everything of before,
               that  were psychedelic illusions.

Reminiscing of stained windows,
                recently cleansed of the memories of
                                                                ­yesterday.
Only now were remnant fallen dreams buried
                                           beneath falling stars..



                           That crawled like maggots
                                                 in the heavens
burrowing deeper the more they fell...
                And still though falling, there breath still
                                          gasped as death only exhales.

Are my eyes not sewn
To the vestagise's of
                                You.

Your words like songbirds
In mornings glory,
                     singing the awakening

                                           of ourselves..

We fly higher in dawns rising,
         and slumber in a nest of
                                            two,
                            when dusk falls beneath
                                                    our hearts.

Two feathers always gliding
            on the rhyme of loves wind.
And we soar for eternity
          as we are the breath beneath
                       each others yearnings.

I used to follow every echo
             bellowing beneath
the subconscious frame work

                            that where
        hanging in my empty halls..


Before I realised that within these
                    representations of hollow
                                       imitations.

Were just blank obscure nothingness's
                        swallowing me within a
                                   kaleidoscope of false
                      pretext.

And then I saw that there was no picture
          as the  frame never existed
     beneath the
              echoes just shadows of insecurity...

We are to busy looking at the grandeur
                  of the nirvana above
to realise that even though there is beauty
exhaling  beyond our sights.

                       That there is an inhiation
of stunning metaphors
                              swimming beneath ever wave..

Stories drowned beneath every convulsion that
             swells with every passing rise of
                                 nights eternal watchman.

Immersed luminosity that never sees lambent ashes
                                            hanging silently above.
Only giving the onyx deep a light show
                    of life's perfection to never fade away..

For in every darkness there is a shade of light,
               and within every light
there is a passing glimmer of shading.

For no matter how far we ascend, what is beneath
            still teaches us that we need to look into
the  darkness to realise that we need go deeper
                       before we ascend higher than our gaze wishes..

Clinging to seconds when
      There where hours that
                  Flew by.

But we never
        Caught that flight.
Instead we looked
out the window
            counting the seconds.

Every moment counts..
      Don't let anything
Fly by,
          catch every breath as
                     They never fly forever.

My veins like glass shards
   itch beneath a memory
of aging brackish memories.


I couldn't lift my arms for they
fell like a breathless moment
                                 in a forest of regrets.  
    
                     No one heard them descend,
they just bled sap slowly, till all was hollow.

And all that was left was a time that fell,
                                      and the cuts where silent.

I was a moment standing in grandeur,
        but beneath it didn't really matter
                             I
                         was a hollow moment,
crumbling beneath life's weight.

Every day is a concussion,
                where I feel that
my thoughts are suffering
                    from blunt force trauma.


Slumped within the confines
                                     of self..
Blood vessels burst in a rainbow
              of fluctuation and I think
                                 was it all worth it.


Should I have let that last thought
                                                haemorrha­ge.

Instead of getting up again and again...

Realising that after the first reaction I should
have stayed down ,Succumbing to the
                                                            even­tuality.  

That I could be what I wanted, what I thought
                 I could become. I was like a flower,

Dying before it blossomed..
                          And all that was left
                              was dead memories
crushed before they could even show
                                            there beauty.

                Now just wilted dreams becoming nightmares.