It’s a tug of war between what you think and what you want her to think
Because in reality, I know that she could rip me in two
She could tear me into a million pieces and light me on fire
And while I’m lying there, smoking and whirling in the wind
I would crawl back to her
Apologize
And slowly shrivel away inside,
While I wait for her to give me another chance
But the battle of it is that she can’t know the power she holds!
She can know that I love her,
Of course
But what would she do if she knew that I’m a puppet
And she’s holding the strings?
Who am I kidding?
She already knows

At some point the mind must release
And allow the pain to subside  
To make tomorrow settle for peace
With the salty waves in my mind

At some point the mind must let go
And forget about the weeks and days
Spent upon the oceans ebb and flow
Let go he rains the hearts fiery blaze

At some point the heart must warm up
And angered she burns quickly
Boiling the polluted puddles into sirup
Which leaks into the soul thickly

At some point part of the soul must die
Allowing the whole to be free
She will be vulnerable and cry
But at las  she can genuinely be

A lone wolf;
Solitary soldier.
Too comfortable you have become
stumbling down a path
for one.

Blinded by
eyes closed
to the world that truly lays
beyond
your chosen screen
of wool
woven, cross-stitched with
Denial.

Hands you refuse to hold
as you boldly
trek
down the dusty trail;
howling out silently
so no one may hear.

Sporting a
mask
made
of self-loathing
and fear,
vulnerability the
enemy you choose to slay,
for surrendering to
a state of
naked, raw
passion
seems more frightening
than the darkest dungeon,
stormiest night.

Gulping down
another shot
of loneliness on the rocks,
not even a splash
of soda,
for you like the way it burns.
Inhale solidarity,
snorting your
line
after
line
of
self-destruction,
acidic dispelling of
feelings
chosen not to be felt.

Sometimes, though,
in the quietest of the night,
sitting on the lip of a deep
substance-induced-slumber,
you may whisper
in a tone you would hate
to be called sweet,
and the mask comes off;

till 2 PM,
waking and at it again,
alone, a lone wolf
howls
at emotional
sobriety
and takes another
drink.

I wanted you to admire the
bare bones and brush strokes
that painted me woman

So I disrobed.

But more than wanted,
I desired you to seize me
as a victor does his spoils

So I withdrew my weapons.

But more than seize me,
I craved that you’d relish me
as the chef savors his dish

So I lied and said I didn't love you.

And that’s all you needed
to eat your fill of me
Until gluttony left
nothing but skeletons in your bed.

He sat there, always looking out of a small round window
That could easily be a reflection of his tragic mind
Since the day he knew he’d been left on his own
It seemed like there was nothing in there left to find.

Every day from half-past eight and all day till five-past five
He sat immobile staring out, a sad look on his face
He’d never notice anyone, nor speak a single word
He’d sit there never stirring from his lonely lonely place.

He may have wondered where they’d gone, for they looked after him
But his parents, both of them now dead, had done their very best
Now here he was at fifty-three, an only child yet still
Just left to stare through windows, in old pyjama bottoms and vest.

He’ll be swallowed up by the system, and churned back out to the street
He’ll wander about in his own little world, and we won’t understand
He’ll be doing his best with what he knows and what he tries to follow
But our complex welfare system just won’t deal with his demands.



©Joe Wilson – An Inadequate System 2014

I am a tree
Sprouting leaves
But my leaves too will leave

I am a tree
My thick bark protects me
But contains deep scars

Beneath my bark are layers of life
The history of my surroundings
But my heartwood is dead

My heartwood still supports me
It won't decay or lose strength
But it's only because of my thick bark

My outer bark- gained over decades;
Protects me from the destruction of my
Heartwood
For being
Vulnerable

I am the sun
I might burn you
But only with puns

I am the sun
I'll enlighten you
Yet I won't be done

I am the sun
I will brighten your path
Just for fun

I am the sun
I will keep the moon bright
Because you are the one

I am the sun
If you come too close to me
I will burn you, loved one

Wearing your heart on your sleeve, but under a jacket
Forgetting it’s there when you get too warm
Feeling thawed, you let down your guard and shed layers
No on mentions it, if they see it at all
Too afraid of bringing attention to their own
Exposure
So you mingle and rub elbows
Unaware of the damage being done
Until
The night ends
It gets cold
You reach for your jacket
But
What you can’t see, that I can
From across
The room
Is that your bumps and bruises
Scrapes and scars
Aren’t wounds
They are marks of distinction, testaments of strength
Reminders of love
Hope, for the future