Four long days
Festering inside
Teasing me
Breaking my pride

Attacking every atom
Counting my cost
Squeezing my energy
All day, I am lost

I can not move
You puts me in chills
Stand up dizzy
On the floor, no frills

Finally you stop
No torture no pain
You finally left me
Don't come back again

I heard my song
on the twisted radio.
It sent me on a path
that I didn't want to go.

It rang up my past
of hate and deceit.
Sad song of yesterday
gone down in defeat.

It ***** through the straw
of castrated demands.
The beat of the drum
plays in the band.

Put in my place
from every note played.
It's the last song I hear,
I don't want to stay.

The spirits of the dead.
They're fleeced as naked sheep.
They hang cold and desperate.
Howling over desolate isolated moorland.
Screaming on the gale.
The linger just a moment, where man nor beast exist.
This ethereal racket, caused by the sharp and biting gorse bush.
It's scratching wounds, deep into grey shadows,
Left overs of spoiled souls.
(C) Livvi

And she sank into your eyes.
A transfixed fixture captured in the dark.
A camera image.
Stored in an antiquated box camera.
Locked away.
Awaiting revelation.

A chimera, maybe a feature of a potent imagination.
She's prowling through the shadowy lands.
In the contorted universal time.

He knows she's there.
She haunts his heart and feeds his mind.
Almost feels it.
He feels her very being, she feels him without pain sensation.
She feeds him emotion from a dessert spoon.
Just because she's sweet.
He holds her tight in his darkest moments.
And yet she saw him crying.
A child without a handkerchief.
Wipe your eyes sweet heart, she smiles.
She is waiting.
(C) Livvi

Get out of my head.

**** the pain.

Oh migraine.

She was laid to rest in May
in a small cemetery in a small town.
She was ninety nine and a half.
She was my grandmother.

Looking back I remember.
I would stay at her house
in the summer.
It would take me away
from the pains of home.

We would play games
or go to the movies.
She would take me bowling
each night I stayed, it was our thing.

The next morning, I could hear
bacon sizzling from my room.
She made scrambled eggs, bacon,  fresh squeezed orange juice and pancakes.

She was my light away from the dark. She took my pain away. She eased my worries like no other. She was my grandmother.

If I could have one wish right now in the world.  It would be to have more pancakes with my grandmother.