acid flashback in the trees
         frenzied branches feathered leaves
swaying seizing in the breeze
           forming shapes that his mind sees
scattered thoughts attention free

Sitting by the fire,
He raised a glass,
Whispering words,
Of his secret past,

A solitary tear,
Wiped slowly away,
Hiding the pain,
Of that fateful day,

As a curious child,
I always wondered why,
My heroic father,
Would sit and cry,

Or wake up screaming,
Soaked in his bed,
Telling my mother,
The noise in his head,

As I grew old,
I understood why,
My soldier father,
Would sit and cry,

He lost his family,
Not linked by blood,
He witnessed things,
That no human should,

Affected by the war,
Still to this day,
His PTSD,
Is stuck on replay.

you're nervous
'take a drink, it'll calm you down'

you're nervous
'here, take a hit, a little **** will do ya good'

you're nervous
'come sit next to me, I'll make sure nothing bad happens to you'

now you're drunk
now you're baked
now you're being touched, felt, caressed

but it doesn't matter.
you're no longer nervous.
you can't feel.
you don't care.

you're exactly what they want you to be
no longer timid
no longer shy
no longer *nervous

My legs are red with raised lines
It feels pretty
I don't think I'm scared
I'm all alone
It's always been this way
It's wanting to go home
But I'm already there
It's trying to breathe
But I can’t find the air

I'll tell you a story
Of a girl who desired
All the pain to wash away
She tells you her problems, but all you say
"Don't think that way"
Being told is not advice
Even though she agrees,
She cries.
You wonder why she feels this away,
But all you do Is stand and stare.

She thinks you don't care,
But you do, do you not?

Those four words
Don't help anymore
But shows her the way
To ending her fate.

Those four words don't
Guide her the way.
Telling is not saving,
But listening may.

I don't want to be perfect
What an incorrect prospect
I like my defect
At least I'm not an object

My eyes do not resemble suns
My words are more like guns
Aimed at your sons
I've only just begun

My hair is not soft and fine
You simply cannot define
Or enshrine
Standby and do not whine

My thoughts are not innocent and pure
Nothing is secure
But I am certainly not your saviour
My behaviour brings danger
I am not your entertainer

My hands are not are not flowers
I have different powers
Which devours and towers
Over your mouth as he cowers

Nature is not just beautiful
And neither am I
How dare you belittle it with unsuitable lies
Save your goodbyes
I am not your demise, that would be unwise
Do you not realise I have a disguise?

I am not  perfect
Yet you could never recreate and resurrect my imperfections
Save your affections
I need to find my own directions, away from your infectious reflections