The sun rises and with it the fight begins, kicks and blows rain hard as I catch my reflection and see the futility of my existence staring back at me. 

This is my war. 

There will be no peace talks with my adversary, she dwells inside, stubborn, unmoved by my suffering, mocking the medication meant to silence her being. 

She is glass shards. 

She is the shrapnel of my past, forever deeply embedded in my tired future. 

She is hatred of my very self. 

She claws at me with sweet suggestions, whispered screams of unending torment, temptation to cease being burns at her core as I am drawn blindly to her flame. 

There is no ceasefire, no peace in which to dwell, no escape from the constant hum of her displeasure. 

She is me, I am her.

Our silent battle as old as time.

I see her watch me through tear filled eyes, her hatred bristling at my smile as she sings of my flaws and tosses all hope to the ground to shatter irreparably.

She is mine. I am hers.

We dance in time to sympathetic looks and tired sighs as loved ones speak of self indulgence and stiff upper lips.

She will be, that I may not.

She will not be silenced.

Off we go with a loud hurrah
dog and kid and stuff in the car
buckling up and blasting some tunes
singing along like a couple of loons.
Taking a ride on a sunshine highway
stopping off at finnegans wake
we'll poke out our tongues at the world rushing by us
and belly laugh wildly for belly laughs sake.
We'll sing of tattoos and rowdy bar fights
and rats lounging in vats of ale
I'll silence myself as the bagpipes start blowing
and smile as my little guy takes it away
I'm not sure he quite understands what he's singing
nor that he cares as he fist pumps the air
I watch as he blushes at the lyrics with swears in
then sings them quite loudly, as if I'm not there.
This music you sent us, makes us feel alive
and Kiss me I'm ******* is fun when your five
not suitable listening for such tender ears
but his grin is far wider than it's been in years.
So God bless the Murphys and God bless you too
for bringing such joy on our trip to the zoo.

I dream of you as fingers roam
to places deep within
and wonder how I ever lost
the urge to roar with sin.

My hands they wander, quicker now,
with eager memory
of how your limbs felt wrapped with mine,
though it has never been.

You loved me once in forest glade,
again on golden shore
you took me on a stormy night
and left me wanting more.

Now here I lie in shaking form
exhaling ragged breath
in hope that one day you'll return
to love me half to death.

My body is your witness,
please shake it to it's core,
how cruel it seems to leave me here
in lust forevermore.

So take these wanton letters,
this statement of my need,
then fill my ever lonely nights
with sweet debauchery.

After reading your plea good lady,
I really can't deny
this fire burning in my *****
as your words pass by my eyes.

After reading your plea good lady,
I'm happy to oblige,
soon all sound will be muffled
by your enveloping thighs.

After reading your plea good lady
there were no words to be said,
so I'll kiss your pretty flower
while you moan and give me head.

After reading your plea good lady,
to your front door I will roam
and sort you out, quite properly
before your man comes home.

After reading your plea good lady,
sit back and watch me burn
then tease a little longer
us men, we never learn.

The marchers make their way today
through town to Cardiff Bay
with whistles, shouts and banners up
for sweet old Mary Jane
they're marching for her freedom
all ages, colours, creeds
have come in joyful spirits
to help us free the **** 

The rich, the poor, the movers and shakers
the blowback kings and part-time partakers
the rollers, the tokers, the bongers and such
the teenage goth stoners who've had way too much
skin up as they march while making their point
and meet up with new friends while sharing a joint.

Then down at the bay side
when the bands start to play
they'll **** in the sunshine
till the end of the day.