Is a fruitless tree
still worthy?

Is a person
fruitless
empty
lacking in lustre
of no value?

Maybe
they're still waiting
to blossom

An awesome book
a sumptuous chair
plump cushions
silence
my perfect
Sunday afternoon

Tonight I watched the sun melt
fall into the sea and wash away
the beauty in the sky
meant nothing to me


I was tired
of so many painful hours
of dark days
watery eyes
and tear stained cheeks


This unwelcome story
how will it end?
And where is the memory
of when it began?


What day was it
when everything changed?
When the right to be cheerful
was no longer granted


When the morning comes
the dark will be present still
as dark as the days before
senseless moments
playing games within
jumbled
mixed up
spinning in slow backward circles
as my mind trips lightly over itself
again and again
over and over
and all before me there is
nothing


I will run as fast as I can
because it's all I know
my familiar friend
my hideous buddy
my mocking dark day pal


I’ll run until my breath is extinguished
outsmarting my chasing dragon
of shadows
decades past
of the deepest black night


Nothing follows me
but still I run
to find freedom
to dig for gold
from under the elusive rainbows


But always
I run alone
just me running from I


Drained
hollow
numb
a plain empty jar


It’s time to lay down my fears
leave my senses to rest
I’ve run too much
too long
too hard



Time to tell the dragon
his time is up
acknowledge the empty space
that lingers behind me
and be grateful for being alone


I will sit and wait for the sun
revel in the beauty of the sky
resurrect those things
that have long been dead to me


Wait for the light inside
for the radiance to be felt
to be seen
be understood
and once again become my friend


Slow
but sure
I return to myself

I would rather sleep
on a cold stone floor
than lay solitary
in the lie of luxury
loveless sheets
a bed full of wishes
where I need you to be

Like a dove
I land softly on shoulders
I'm kind in nature
generous in discernment


But cross me once
the suspect will be marked
cross me twice
and my friendship
will be no more


It's a waste of breath
for me to show
the extent of violation
worthless
to intend to destroy


I have no need
to action revenge
when a clown
can quite easily stumble
over their own stupidity


I won't lower myself
to the mire
when I can sit by fresh waters
and observe
the downfall
of a dumb mind

Writing the words
the emptying
of my emotional recycle bin

I pour them out
with intent to demolish
to remove the evidence
the unwanted remembrance
the devastation
that threatens to unravel my sanity