I was a lost broken soul,
Living in my own miserable world.
Drifting from place to place,
Couldn't keep up with the pace,
Of all the chaos around me.
Then he came along,
He was like no other.
My own knight in shining armor,
But his armor wasn't so bright.
It was dark like my soul, for he too had a dark past.
He brightens up my day.
His eyes glimmer with happiness.
His heart beats with love for me.
Our souls become one, when we are together.
He is my world, nothing else matters.
We mend each others hearts.
He makes me whole, makes me feel special.
I feel like I can take on the world,
With him by my side.
He is my Joker, and I'm his Harley Quinn.
Together we can win this battle.

I died for you many times,
blood spilled on more than one occasion.
I could list the times you stole my breath.
With your fingers in my hair, tangled,
I hated my curls.
You called me dearest.
Did you mean it?
You invited me in.
Did she want it?
I was cold. You were warm.
Did you feel it?
In the frost-bitten autumn, lips turning blue
from the cold,
from your kisses,
there was blood on the grass,
shrapnel in your heart.
You worry me.
You don't sleep.
Ink stains your hands like
mud from the battlefield.
It stains your soul,
hides your desires,
murky as the dangerous sea.
Sometimes when you kiss me
it tastes like salt water,
feels like lightning,
gale force winds.
I am not a hurricane.
I could never hurt you.
But I did.
My breath stopped in my lungs,
eyes fixed on yours.
My breath stopped in my lungs,
your hands traveling.
My breath stopped in my lungs,
a bullet in his side.
My breath stopped in my lungs,
the world changed forever.
My breath stopped in my lungs,
you walking away from me, to her.
My breath stopped forever.
You wish my blood would stain your hands,
that you could have been close enough,
that you could have protected the part of yourself that resided in me.
Your breath stopped in your lungs.
I died for you, one final time,
blood spilled on one final occasion.
They stole my breath.
I hated my curls,
but I loved you.

Half the battle is putting on my clothes and moving once I wake up, and the rest is simply surrender.

Her long, flowing, black hair
sways in the autumn breeze

silence speaks, she is silent

a lonely bullet lays in the chamber
her hands rest gingerly on the guard
her fingers snuggle the trigger

The leaves blow, the poppies bloom
and the grass stands still....

her eyes gaze and wonder....

the enemy is in her cross-hair
silent speaks....

The bullet whispers to the wind....

The thunder roars and the rain pours
black boots ***** in the mud
a serenade of feet, all in unison.

2.
The roar of artillery shells, the golden blaze of fire
the crumbling masonry, the rotten corpses
the tears of mothers and the letters from generals.

3.
The throat slashes, the mustard gas
the iron tanks, the flamethrowers
the bayonets and the noble foot soldier.

It’s difficult to convey one’s thoughts
on a plain white canvas
when your head is as blank as the page.
The scribble is a scribble and
my words become dribble
but as long as you get your point across, right?
Please tick the box.
If the answer is yes, explain why.
Well what if I don’t want to?
What if I’d rather keep that one to myself,
after all, my grandad did fight for my free speech.
All I want is to be me yet
the ridicule evades me.
I need not sprout profanity without meaning,
even if I’m entitled to that free speech.
So stop asking these questions,
and bother somebody else.
There are enough people in this place let alone on the planet
That maybe one will listen to what you have to say.
The power of words.
Close the ******* door on the way out.

Why is my desire to lose weight so strong? When deep down I know that it is all totally wrong?

The visible ribs? The hollow tummy? Is it really worth avoiding all those foods which are so yummy?

The hunger pains; your new ‘high’, but surely its not worth it if you die?

Your heart rate so slow, and body temperature so low, but still you want those last few kilograms to go.

At what point do you realise enough is enough? I believe in you, you can do this; you are mentally tough.

Eating doesn’t make you weak, realistically, it helps your bones not to creak.

Your 19 years young, what are you doing to yourself? Why are you putting so much strain on your health?

Your poor family and friends watching you starve, while those tasty steaks they sit and carve.

They tuck in and enjoy them, as you sit with your salad; lifeless and numb, making you feel so invalid.

But this is your life and you only have one, so get up and fight until this self hatred is gone.

Your hips and your collar bones do not need to be seen to make you feel whole, your life isn’t worth having your head down the toilet bowl.

Tuck in, and eat; it doesn’t make you selfish, it purely gives you the chance to have life to relish.

Today is your day; everyday is yours, so go out and live it, be free and run the shores.

Tell me how your storm went, have you ever suffered?

If so, have you gotten through it? Have you fully recovered?

Each day I wake up thinking, is today going to be the day,

that all this pain and heartbreak might actually go away?

Hour by hour, day by day,

Stopping fighting for a moment, will only make it stay.

So, we have to keep on going, and fighting for our lives;

otherwise our demons will only stab us with their knives.

Here’s to life, and here’s to love, we must strive towards our dream.

because striving towards happiness is the way to make our smiles truly gleam.

i begin to recognize the smile on my face
and a single rogue thought runs across my mind
looks like, i have to start over now