The more you try to tell me
What is right
And what is wrong,
What I should do
And what I should not,
The more you make me
Want to face-plant
Into a wood chipper.

And yet,
You continue to speak.

Love and disdain
Are two fruits
On the same
Clustered vine.
When picked
And fermented,
They make
Fine wine,
Or bitter vinegar.

grey
the sky is
the fields are sometimes, too;
it is England, after all

view upon view, an expanse of
dusty hues -
the sorts of colours you might find
locked up in an attic, unused
for years

the grey is a stillness, an unrestful quiet
that stretches out across the country
like a tapestry of disdain

we feel nothing here, because
the grey has taken it - well
has dimmed it; perhaps
it still exists somewhere
beneath the sombre sea

of colour, or a lack of it;
and i can make no sense of it, nor it
of me
because, you see
the grey pervades

it turns everything the same shade,
and impossible to pick out hues
it blends in one
leaving but an impression
of a world no longer clear

yet artists, poets, lovers and children still hope
and they stare expecting to suddenly see a sunburst of colour
across the grey.

The electrical energy that powers a city
Fridges, happy songs, and lighting so pretty.
That same electricity that powers our lives, can destroy a home in the blink of an eye.
A bolt of electricity thrusts through the sky. The home is destroyed, they’re lucky to be alive.
Is it better to feel pain than nothing at all?
Is it worth the tears of rain that inevitably fall?
The lightning has struck and only a drizzle remains.
The home is now ******, and they’re left sizzled with disdain.
But had they not built that house, in fear of regression,
they would have been left in a life of sorrow and depression.
They will cry, they will mourn, they will ***** and they will scorn,
But when the sun rises tomorrow there will be no more storm.
They’ll reset, they’ll rebuild, better than ever before.

So why do you say it with such a disdained voice?
Is it not beggars choice that reveals thee?
Do you aim to hurt in return?
Not knowing another way to be kind,
Why do one thing and say another?
Are your promises nothing more than dust in the wind?
Your claim to some enlightened state,
While the reality of you exists oppositely.
You cannot fathom the consequences of the projection you put on and take off,
Alls well that may end well,
But with your choices will you?

You are done breaking my heart.
Whether or not you realize this,
It does not matter.
I am not yours to tatter.

You will not hurt me any more.
You have proven your weakness,
And shown that you couldn't care less.
Whatever, I'll find peace in this mess.

Now you're doing the things that we once did with someone else and I'm not okay with it. I told myself I'd never allow regret to seep into my mind and I still haven't but I'm feeling sad because of everything we built time and time again that I had to throw into the trash because of the things that you said and did. I hope it was worth it for you, obviously you've moved on without tears or pain while I am the one floating in the sea of disdain. You'll always be the friend I tried so hard not to give up on.