.

He doesn't realise...
The weight of his actions and words that pummel her to the ground.
Beating her down for every time she rises up to undo his ropes with which she's bound.

He doesn't see...
Past the darkened lenses that she dons.
She wears them,
not to shield her pride that was wrongfully taken,
but to protect him from the repercussions that would come with accusatory speculations.

He doesn't know...
Of the soaked pillow that accompanied her.
The rivulets of tears...
She had quietly shed without a whimper.

He doesn't hear...
The silent altercation between the treasure that beats in her chest and the thing that thinks in her head.
The struggle that ensues when the mind tries to rescind what the heart had wholly given and carelessly said.

He doesn't care...
To think of the devastating waves that come.
Only to erode the last bastion of hope she nurtures...
This frail wall that she prays for nightly.
Just so that it would hold up through another day's endeavour.

He doesn't feel...
The need for empathy.
For he thinks that he's god with one devout follower.
He commands her loyalty with his deluded testaments
and his fists as sceptre.

She doesn't live...
To see future suns.
For her day finally set when it all came down.
The wall she had feebly held together with her life...
Easily gave way when he came at her armed with a knife.

.

You could have Trump as your dad
or worse, your lover

Behind the scenes a whole galaxy revolves
unobtrusive, without fanfare
gently influencing the minds of Man-
to search, go out of themselves-
and just wonder at it all.

Isn't it?
The Unpredictability of life,
The spontaneous nature of people,
The will to do more,
So much to be grateful for.
So much to look forward to.
So much to love.

I am a ****** up poet
A starving artist
A punk rock Elvis
Sometimes you just gotta go all out
Because your the king
Man
And you just can't help it

Van Gogh died poor
And alone
In a field that was his last expression
He died by his own hand
And it wasn't even raining
When it should have been

I don't even see myself when I look in a mirror
And you don't see what I see when you look at me
You see a smiling lover
Enjoying life though all the struggle
I live life as Pagliacci
A ****** up poet

I put on a great show
And I weep during intermission

Hold me close again,
Don't tell me this is the end.

Alcohol on your breath,
How did we get into this mess?

The nicotine clings to my bed,
Just like the lies you said.

You took my fragile heart,
And filled it with your art.

The masterpiece of your lies,
Spoken right to my eyes.

Lie to me one last time,
Tell me it's all going to be fine.

I often play Checkers
With Fats Domino
In a downtown park
Underneath the lamps glow

When he wins a game
Sings out Ain't That A Shame
Where I'm less than thrilled
On Blueberry hill

Then it's off to Dominos
During the day
With Chubby Checkers
A game he loves to play

Twists and he shouts
When he turns over the tiles
Making up his own rules
I'm not sure that's aloud

You would think with their names
They'd play different games don't you know
But who can understand those
That Rock & Roll