It was a summer morning. The man got up, got ready quite quickly. He pulled the door to, and stepped into the street. It was still early, the sunshine was bright, the street like a wasteland.

A small boy was kicking a football against a low wall. As the man approached, the boy kicked it towards him.  The man returned it, the boy returned it again. The man lifted it with his toe, flicked it ten feet in the air. The boy let it bounce and headed it back.
The man trapped it and left it at the boy's feet as he walked by.

'Where you going?'  asked the boy.
'To see my dad.'
'When was your dad born?'  asked the boy.
'Nineteen twenty four.'
The boy lifted his finger to his mouth.
'Ninety, that makes him ninety.'  said the man.
'Better hurry then.'  said the boy.
The man looked at the boy properly for the first time.
And smiled.

He cocked his head, looked down at me curled up in his arms, vulnerable, I'd imagine he'd see me as, and parted his lips to let out a string of words tied to a sigh.

"What is your favorite memory?"  He spoke, the words dripping off his tongue and slipping down my face, creeping into my mouth, coating the insides of my lungs I no longer breathed from.

I wanted to say this one; The one where I bled to death in his arms, and I finally felt the sting of his tears he no longer had to hide.

i.
​As the looking glass feels the soul
strength will be revealed
in the song book of life,
as it is told true beauty fully wonders.

ii.
​Were we born in the arms of Angels
with heaven standing by
thats finds a way to the heart,
that had been bound by love forever.

iii.
Fate somehow bestowed on us
the arms of a shooting star
no one will ever love me,
that will be forever more.

iv.
The forever was willed upon this earth
pursued my way along
the corridors of heavens horizon,
in the vessel in the land of the stars.

Debbie Brooks 2014

The freshly severed heads
of dandelions
explode, silently, at the gentle
puff of a child’s breath.
Their hollow stems shed milky tears;
the seedlings fill the air.

My mind is racing, the finish line is just a little farther. My heart stretches but can't reach. It can't reach the goal I've strived to accomplish. For it only shadows and scars those who love. Theres fear in my head, theres pain in my ashure eyes. This strange feeling scares me. It scars a heart that has been through hells unremorse. No hand nor heart could heal its wounds, only true hearts can heal the broken. A dark heart only fails to realize the reality behind its darkness and hate. Beyond the crowd, is where the creed resides. The true Kings and Queens of the Heart. My heart is in an inbalance with its soul that keeps it beating. With one knife ******, it could end. With one bullet, it could be no more. The true heart must reside, and survive the greatest feat its ever known. Strange lives are lived today, but only the shadow of that demon remains. Within its snare is a lonely soul, with no love that remains.