Untitled - 24th July 2012

Unaware as I was, your smile carried me through.
It was us I loved, and that will always be true.
Sometimes it's hard to admit being wrong,
Taking a hit to my pride isn't easy, but I've got to be strong.
You said I was under your skin, and your only thought,
I'm sorry for my anger, and the way we fought.
With time I hope you'll eventually see,
How much it was YOU who carried me.

I'll always wish it was 'us' again,
And in my mind I can only hold on to a 'when'...

The Other Side - [Dateless]

I'm struggling... An awful lot.

I've read everything I can find, I've listened to; taken; visualised and even prayed. I understand the mechanics, the programming and the cause and effects- Nothing makes it any easier to deal with. No amount of it will push me further through.

I tried to give up because I can't take any more. I'm lost. I'm defenceless. I'm just me, I suppose. The sum of every day leading to now. It's all good, and oh so well to be told I've got a lot going for myself. That I'm intelligent and that I can be better; that I can beat this. Yet when the clouds are gone, and we're left watching dew turn to frost again..you ask 'why bother'. What is it all for. The dark, honest poetry that under-pins everyone is being taken away..and I hate watching everything slide.

It's selfish. Despicable. How could I try to do that to anyone.
How can't I?
It isn't about you, them or anyone else, infact. You aren't worth the worry, my friends.


----- 



I could hear you crying-
I couldn't cut off my smile.
The lies I've sold make me feel
more sorry for your pity,
than I do for my own suffering.

There you were, standing
and staring at my lie.
My lifeless view of each of you.
As if I'm some sort of monster...
Some form of unearthly beast...

A mimic, a mime. A distant everyone.


-----


I admired the chase. That chance.
I congratulated you before we finished.
I always knew you'd be on top.
It was written in your eyes,
across your lips.

I think I'll always look up to you.
As someone who took my prize,
You took my only part.


-----


I cannot help my part.
I just watch.
I just listen.
I love your sweet demise.

He takes every part.
He controls every piece
of you and of I.
He whispers pure extacy.

The elation in your squeel,
the volume in your moves.
Twist towards. Tense and shake.
I'm taking this image..

I can't help my part..
I'm just as hopeless..
He controls me too..

Untitled - 16th January 2012

Where can I look
when your eyes are averted..

You tell me clearly, to listen and understand..
but you're talking in tongues at me,
and I barely have the time to whisper back.

I watch you cry, and feel nothing but anger-
Not for you; not at someone.. but that I couldn't care any less.
For anyone...

You ask me completely, if I could hold and cherish you..
but you're talking in tongues at me,
and I barely have the time to translate your senseless desires.

I picture your hair, now..
Cus I dare not look towards you.
I'm scared you've passed too far,
and I can't help you any longer.

R.I.P. (revised) - 14th July 2010 (8th October 2011)

Death should have no space.
No room to be; carry its motion.
It shouldn't hold place aside for loved ones.
Why do we allow it to construct;
A chance to lure us.
Who gave it permission.
Who gave it this chance.
Making its mark and feeding all the while.

I concede it must exist,
but in such harrowing moments?
It flourishes on its own destruction.
Can it not require peace at its fore.
Granting grace and ellegence..
Allowing beauty to shine as a first.



Let us rest now, with a memory fresh.
Leave him at peace now, to enjoy
the glory he has earned not among us,
but among his life.

My Masterpiece - 20th Sept 2011

I washed my hands again.. The fifth time tonight. I felt awful.. He'd taken over again and there wasn't anything of me.. She was only //////.. Barely of female structure, let alone of her own mind. I told myself to dispose of it all. I told myself to cry.

---
With the elation in your squeel, I knew I'd hit the right part. At least this time I had.. and i had it down.. Burnt for good. Not You!! NO, i'd never hurt you. id never hurt you.. youre too pretty.. Too perfect. too much to risk..
i walked you home.. WE held hands, and i kept telling you how it was how it'd been and would now be i remember you smiling back at me and i knew it was fine it was all ok i forget why i ever worried it was as though i had considered you again as though you had already forgotten had you how could you i had it down though dont worry it was mine to treasure you are MY treasure MINE with such a beautiful whimper such a perfect smile


So perfect on film... SO MINE.. Now run home, my masterpiece.

---- - 24th July 2011

CouldIbe...

Can I maybe still hold your hand. Even when you're angry at me- even if we part. and then at night, can I kiss you good night. Even still... What if I see you out with friends, may I say hello. Get a quick cuddle; feel your hold; smell your hair. and if I travelled for hours just to bump into you, anywhere, would you mind. In 8 months and a day, can I fly you to Spain. Will you let me ask again. How about today? or tomorrow..

thereforyou.

Our Little Boy - 12th Feb 2011

There once was a little boy.
One day he found a box..
Inside, a snow globe, and note.
It simply read:
'Everytime you shake this, you'll be
reminded just how wonderful the
world is, and be happy again -
but. Somewhere, someone else
will be taking your pain.'

The little boy wanted to throw it away.
But this scared him, incase someone
else used it. So he kept it.
Locked it away in the box,
in the back of his wardrobe.

One day, many years later. Our boy,
he's grown up. With a family now.
Driving home an evening, they have
an accident. His family die, and he's left
completely alone.
For fear of his own mind, to save himself
from tears, from this torture.
He searches, and he finds that box.
With that snow globe, and our note.
He sits in anguish, and clinging to hope
begins to shake...
but nothing happens... and never does.


Eventually, this embittered old man -
Our little boy.. He meets his maker..
A similarly misanthropic old man, now.
He asks why the globe didn't work,
demands an answer.
'In time, perhaps you'll realise
what you did...'