So I'll give you time
As I stop the clock on me.
Afford you minutes
As my FUNds deplete
May be broke
But I'll wave the fee,
Cause I'm a fool you see.
Embracing the fall
Of this fallacy.
Cause I do this
all in the knowing
that our times up really
And you're about
to say goodbye to me.

When you feel your throat start to burn
     with something you want to say
Coat those words with gasoline
    and start a fire

Don't let them turn into ashes.

They say a full moon can make a person do crazy things. I still don’t know if that’s true; the full moon was last week and, though I can still see it’s shine in your stormy grey eyes, I know it can’t be the reason I have this feeling stuck in my gut telling me to (kiss you) just live.

is different for each meandering
but arises unbidden though there
must be a prompt a spring a welling-
up that begins to trickle down the page
as the current courses down this arm
to fingertips grippimg the pen lightly
but firm enough to make the marks
and trickle a stream to slake again
my thirst.  Wyre ? Ribble ? Mersey ?
Thames ? Rhine ? Danube ? Ganges ?
Amazon - yes immense over life as Amazon.

(c) C J Heyworth

That instinct
You have
When you're this depressed
And
Every time
You're in the
Stainless Steel kitchen
And your mom
Is stirring soup at the stove,
And a dribble of
Tomato basil
Slobbers down the side
Of the black pan.

And there's still
A knife out
From when
Tomato intestines
Sprawled across a cutting board,
Which is now in the
Soap-water sink.

You feel it,
In that second.
Instinct.
Need, really.
To take it
And slice open your wrists,
Or maybe just one,
If you're having a good day.

You seriously consider it.
It isn't just a thought.
It can
Scare you, really.

You want-
And one day, might need-
To pick up that knife
And do bad things.
Things that good girls
Wouldn't dream of.

But you don't do it,
And you won't do it,
Because your mom is right there
Stirring soup
And ignoring tomato drool.

And it's such short notice,
You haven't written your note yet.