i.
no matter what your teachers
may tell you, your grades are not a
measure of how smart you are, that
has more to do with how you handle your
heart, and i have never seen anyone love
more fiercely or smart than you.  

ii.
i have let boys touch me just because
i was scared to lose them; don't let them
lay a hand on you without you asking
them to, you are worth more than that.

iii.
people will walk away, but you've known
that already.  keep your chin up so that when
they turn back one last time, they know that
you don't need them.
you don't need them.

iv.
i hope you find somebody that holds your
hands, even when you're nervous and
they start to sweat.  if they pull away,
you come find me and i swear,
i won't let go.

I want to be a pirate and sail the seven seas
command the open oceans
and bring
Poseidon to his knees.
Alas I suffer from mal de mer
the smell of salt makes me sick
I swear.
It seems I'll never go to sea
so
a pirate's life is not for me.

Just trying to reintegrate,to modulate behaviour pattern
I might as well be ******* on the moons of saturn
for all the good that does.
Like some dying star that's burning red,already dead but still I shine within this sphere until the end of time
or until tomorrow,
whichever come first.

I want to bend like a reed with the seaweed below and flow with these tides that I know,
I need to sleep in the deep
not sowing
not reaping
just sleeping
forever.

When we kissed I knew for sure
her heart was kind
her soul was pure
she was the cure for what ailed me
but what failed me and this she knew,was my fear
of seeing dreams come true.

The valley is still there although the dolls have gone,
for now.
We used to plough through Pharmacies to staunch the needs of our disease and on our knees we'd pray to gods
making rods for our own backs and dolls were stacked up two by two in the flying embers of those who knew the pain,
and fired down throats to fuel again the fires that burnt inside.
I rue the tracks laid down and splayed on limbs that now grow old,rigid,cold and folded tight against my chest
but the dolls knew what was best in those testing times and track lines only serve to tell how well I knew them all.
Through those furrows made I fall and hear dolls call to me in the closed down empty pharmacy
where life is stifled in the green and black capsules which fooled us all,
the valley's gone for now,the dolls are sleeping tight,the night has faded,a jaded yesterday has given birth to a bright new day,and so
I shall stay as quiet as I can.

On the fifteenth at ten or whenever it was when the candles burned bright because the electric had gone and our eyes shone like clusters of small glassy beads,Father sits and reads us a story,
War torn like the pages in the crusty old book but we took it as law and swore that we'd never fight,
vowed to do what was right
and the candles still burn in the wreck of the night.

I use these views to choose the words which follow on
and if no views then it is if that I am gone
from memory,
remember me?
addiction free,
except for alcohol and nicotine and some things best not talked about,some things I think are best unseen except by me and
she,my Queen.
Amused by views I sometimes lose perspective and get far too big to fit my boots,but
I come from humble roots and humbler stock and so have learnt to lock my vanity away,yet
this I say
(because no one else will,)
I'll write until my blood turns blue,I'll write with ink and water too and if you choose to not take peeks or views
you lose.

The conclusion,
the fusion of everything when everything's melting in one giant ring,when you're hit by the concussion wave of angels who sing, hallelujah,and ask,'who the hell are you?'.

A good question.

In the end we defend what we did or did not and what we get,where we go depends on the remorse that we show,if we go knowing that, it gives us a shot at the moon,
but the end as it will always wills us to go off too soon,
I hear the Angels croon to me,'come to me,accept this as your destiny',but this endless cycle of eternal misery is hypocrisy and not for me,just let me be alone with me and my thoughts.

Look back,
take an axe
attack the memories
chop down through the history
but you will never rewrite me.
I am written upon the pages you keep,in the diaries you sleep with,the books on your table,
and you're unable to erase me.
I am your memory ,your misery,your penance and your chance to set yourself free,
you see me in the looking glass in the clouds that pass in the toilet bowl,
oh yes,
I am everywhere, the wind that lifts your skirt and blows your hair,the dog that barks,the trees in parks and when will you decide to let things ride,to come back home,cease the honing of the axe,just
relax
and everything will be okay.