i see blood,
i see it everywhere now:
falling from the sky,
splattered on the ground.
i see blood of those
who don't have a home,
not because it's lost,
but because it's torn.
i see crimson tears,
i see scarlet streets.
they might sympathise,
they might speak of peace,
but if there's no justice,
then there is no god.
when i close my eyes
all i see is blood.

I sit once more dismissed,
A lonely figure in my head and my heart,
Aware of the specific trigger
For my sacking as your partner, lover, friend,
Yet also keenly aware that

Once again ADHD has twisted reality
And scale and proportion
To the point your rage knows
Nearly no bounds,
Only that I must be destroyed

And in this there is such
Injustice and a great untruth,
Because I read your verse,
I see the photo's we took even on a day
When we met but to part,

And what I see,
What I see over and over and over,
Is the flow of love from thee to me
And me to thee and thence back,
A circular intimacy without end,

Until you took bolt cutters to it
Sought to free a link in the chain
You feel has bound me to you
And you to me,
And us to we,

But here is the thing love,
That loop is like Hercules soul,
'Tis harder than you think to cut,
There is always a hair's breadth
You cannot ever sever,

Yet for now I must wait alone in the shadows,
Away from the warmth of our love,
That irrational you that arose from
Pain and ADHD
Must depart before

The real us

Can

Return

i hope there's a place for us
in the end.
unwanted, unpleasant,
they feel so uneasy when we bring it up,
the horrors of death.
they want to forget,
they want to be safe in their bubbles
of blissful oblivion.
right.
should we say we're sorry
for being too loud,
too angry, too stubborn,
not willing to die without a struggle?
perhaps we're just making it all up.
well,
although it was mostly pretend,
we really appreciate
your concern.
thanks for nothing.
i hope there's a place for you, too,
in the end.

You have no idea the irk
Created by those terms,
The judgement inherent in
Laying out my perceived weakness
Is offensive,
All the more when weakness
Neither becomes me nor is
Found within me

It makes the obvious response
Rise to my lips,
To cease to reach out
In love or in help,
To prove to you my worth by
Withdrawing the very demonstration
That led to the accusation at hand

But with withdrawal of
Reaching out comes
Withdrawal of part of me,
Part of my expressed love,
And therein lies the rub,
For if I share not how I feel or that
Sharing is unaccepted,
Then where is the actual point?


Of us?

Handcuffed
for buying a
flower from a roadside
vendor.  America summed up
right there.

I am left  only to wish..

that there were realms..   universes--
heaven-sent places,  immersed

     within the warmth
     of peaceful habitation..

Where there perpetually  exists
a beautiful series  of at least

     one ..
    ..   or two  
more steps  in the process:

.. therefore forever leaving
    the beautiful beads

  of our deepest of hopes, intact.


       I love coming back
to your beautiful world  here

   and finding again,  gems