I severed
ties
and all I have
to give you
is a band aid
to stop the
bleeding
for I am robbed
of all my
FIRST AID KIT
of affection

Those words were painful to hear when you told it
I don't know if you know it
Because I certainly don't show it
And won't bring it up in conversation
Only via written representation
Can I say it without hesitation
So here goes it...

You know you lied...
(To yourself mainly)
A total fabrication
One that destroyed my vision of someone sacred
Altered love to blind hatred without persuasion
From which I'm now trying to retrain
Because I've missed out on important days
That should've been filled with celebration

Why not just give me an honest and open statement?
Like what you asked of me from an early age...
Was it to minimise the ache?
To save face from something failed?
To create distance from the ways in which you assumed everyone would frame it?

Anyway
That's me saying it as plainly as I can say it
About the way that you behaved then
And maybe
Just maybe
What I've said here
Will aid you in
Bringing closure to anything remaining
So that each and every day
You can pave more of your way
In coming to terms with all the hating
That you seem to linger in after waking

Your verse speaks of
Constraints from beyond
The grave as if love
And life and joy are
Forever taken from you,

Yet your life is far
From wrecked by that man,
And you so much greater
And more amazing than
You it seems perceive,

Your soul is great
And good and pure,
Your beauty burns from
Deep beneath your
Alabaster skin,

And even if you
Cannot see the worth of you
Or hurl aside that vile constraint,
You have a counter at your side,
One to protect your from the storm

A counter that costs you
Not a penny nor a dime,
A counter to carry you
That's always there and free,
And lest you wonder where or what

That counter,

Love,

Is me!

They ask you again and again,
What happened? Tell me the whole story
And you repeat yourself
Each time thinking it’s been received
But then a new ear, a new clipboard,
And they make you tell it again.

“What happened” becomes more important
Than “what’s happening now?”
Because they care about the mechanism
More than the injury

So what will they do when you go radio silent?
When your heart breaks do you need to rehash how he hurt you,
Again and again for each secondary witness?
At what point does the sordid story end
And the sequel begin?
Or will the pursuit of healing,
The treating of trauma,
Forever be defined by
the mechanism of injury?

I wasn't just that band aid,
          that was  going to heal
   you with faint kisses.

And peel off useless after I'd
                      been there a while.

My intentions were to
          rejuvenate our blemished  
   emotions.

And yes there will scars,
        but we'll heal together.

don’t get caught standing
you’ll fall backwards or forwards-
Ambien’s effect

A lot of people in life will say
You owe them everything
You have because they helped
You get to where
You are.
Those are the kind of people
that have never been put in check.

So always make it clear,
Never get it twisted:
Help should always be charitable.
Help comes from the heart
of a humanitarian
and not that of a businessman.
Help is Help,
not a bartering tool.

Jack had the knack
Of showing quite quick with one single flick.
I called him for aid; he did as I bade.

Cheerfully willing to always be filling
Water and ice for my cup, he heard me speak up.

May he never get bored of pleasing the horde,
And find satisfaction, in his quick action.