I do not miss those that are alive
for the opportunity is still present
to be within each others presence.
Where as those that have passed
are left to live in the past.
They have lost their place in this world,
while those that are alive
still strive to see another day.
I feel it is my duty,
my life long perpetuity
as the loved and the beloved
to assure those at rest live on.

Cardboard box under flyover
Canvas tent in an alleyway
Sleeping bag in small caves
That's our home for today

Thousands of young homeless
All down to our cut and cap
A generation of people like us
All over our own English map

We're ripping safety nets away
Leaving them out in the cold
Rotting their young bodies daily
Harming their brave fresh souls

We can take away their demons
Give them some chances to live
Allow them a future to be proud of
I'm sure that's not too much to give

I kept poems
Hidden in the darkest corners of our house
So that he would not find them.
While in bed
I would look to his resting tomb of a body
And wish that he understood.

Fury
Like a tornado in my head.
Twisting and irrational.
A wave about to crash.
Frantically looking for escape.
A womb to climb inside.
Hiding from the twisting inevitability,
Of the whisper of my thoughts.
SCREAMING,
But seldom heard
I am weighed down by your scorn.
I will rise and I will be heard.
LISTEN TO ME
But the words are tangled in my mind.
Trapped inside a wounded beast.

When the screaming finally stops,
and you are left with yourself,
you must find a way to come to peace with that.
Be afraid to be alone,
but do it anyway
This is your way of loving