Everyone has their addictions. I’m addicted to you. I’m addicted to the way you make me feel in control while you wrap me around your finger. I’m addicted to the emptiness.  Drowning myself in banana coloured pills as I stuff my fingers down my throat. I wash my emotions flush down, swirling away as my body cries for mercy. For me stop abusing it for a vision of perfection that I will never reach alone. I can’t stop, losing control is like a death sentence. You’re killing me but I love you all the same. Sometimes I wish I could be free. To go back to a time when there were more than numbers on my plate. Before the calculator in my head began to count. A time when I was happy. The only way to be free is to let go of you. But letting go feels like dying even though I’m dying anyway. I can’t get enough of you. This pain is all I know. I am nothing without you. I sometimes want to live but I can’t bear the feelings of being alone. I love you.

I can feel myself fading

It’s not as chaotic as I thought it would be,
There are no screams and tears and last words,
warped in pain and grief ,
No sound of my expected to be rapidly beating heart,
as I fight to stay alive, to stay in this world

Instead, it’s eerily calm
Just me and the howling wind,
as my mind counts the seconds tumbling by,
As I wait for the end

Surely this is not it,
Surely there is a chance,
a sliver of hope glowing among these pitch black depths

I want to believe it,
That I can somehow live,
That this is not the end,
that I am not turning to dust and nothing more,
That in this timeline where I can feel every bit of me disintegrate and turn into nothing,
there is a future,
A future for me.

And I almost do

I almost do

My eyes close,
The world seems so still,
as if the earth has quit its spinning to watch
As if all the life out there is holding its breath,
waiting to see the very end

Maybe in another universe, I will live

But for now I am just another leaf of the fall,
ready to be buried underneath the snow.

Sitting by his bedside
Consulting with the Fates
Will this be his time to go?
To rattle Pearly Gates?

He seems to be so fragile
And yet the spirit’s there!
Disguised by sagging jowls
And age spots,  hiding in grey hair.

The afterlife has been discussed
He’s scoffed at it and said
What do I care? Burned or buried?
I’ll be dead!

I watch him in his frailty
Yet strong-willed as can be
He clings to life with stubbornness,  
Blessed mortality!

Neither of us ready
To speak of things to come
We focus on the monitors,
The air vents’ harmless hum.

The ordering of breakfast
And peeing in a cup,
The trolley and it’s offerings
Upon which we both sup.

The future is unknown now
So we resign to be
Contented in the moment and
Embrace the mystery.

The choice is not for us to make
whatever we believe
So quiet words of love are whispered
With our hearts on sleeve.

Waiting now is our new game,
Though we, the pawns and Kings
Pronounce that it ain’t over
‘Til that fat lady sings!

with no more words to say,
nothing left to do,
i shall die in a whimper

When a cloud dies
doves and eagles
dip their wings
in mournful ‘memberance.

When the sky dies
it rots black
in despairing soot
of ash and pain.

When the moon dies
it’s mourned
by the elliptical kisses
of the planets beyond.

When a planet dies
the universe gently cradles it
and lullaby’s it to the sun
until it falls to sleep.

When the universe dies
the lonely sad earth knows
that all the trees will go dark
when the world dies.

Will you sit with me in March?
And wait for the haze to pass. Let us sit
By
The abandoned bandstand and upon the
Trimmed patch of grass
Where you once bravely
Asked,

‘Where ought we stare when the postman
Stands by the door and
Lingers there for far too long?’

I digress.
And I digress.
Conversations are empty lately, they
Have taken the form of the streets;
Empty but filled with crass souls, wandering
For a place to buy sea shells.
Seemingly an innocent task and yet so pointless
To ordinary folk.
I hope.
And I hope
That these men, these hollow skulled men, find
Delight in the barren streets,
Like a treat
After a numb month’s labour.
I speak.
And I speak.
‘Hold me to these streets, where men once worked
By the arching lamp post and the
Abandoned home of the
Holy ghost.’

Will you come and walk in May?
When the birds
Scramble on the park floor
As if to bluntly say
We are rather dull and
Dire in the way
We walk and
Play.

I am aching and grey.
And I am aching and grey.
Do a man a favour, and
Refrain - please
Do not stay.

Let my hair turn dry and grey, and
Let my
Age fade away. Please
Do not stay.
I have talked with the doctor, and they
Often say
That I will be
Okay for today and perhaps
Tomorrow I will not. Alas!
All people will
Decay. And
Minds never stay
The same type of sane.
Hearts
Will often sway and sway.
And death yields no delay, it comes
When it ends, and starts
When it comes. Whether
Young or almost done.
The fun will cease, often
On that empty street
Where crass men wander, or
By the postman who
Happily lingers.

Will you embrace me in November?
Where my limbs are weak, and limber.
Where the bandstand singer has
Moved on to some place bigger.
Will you let me go in December?
Say yes, and please
Remember, that we both surrendered.
Let us spend this time
In slumber, so we can find some kind
Of splendour once the streets
Begin to busy again.

P
A
I
N
The pain is here
It is slowly eating my soul
It hurts
I can't bear this
I'm slowly dying inside