Late Night Musings

Drove through your town tonight.
Yourtown. Is it a different place to Mytown
Or do we think the same?
You Yourtowners and my Mytowners?
Are they all people?

The Tortoise and the Hare

I am in Transition.
It is Spring,
The world holds it's breath and I
Await a rebirth.
Impatiently.
I am in Transition.
The summer sun warms
Trees and my bones.
One grows, the other fully formed
Fixed in place
For my ever.
I am in Transition.
Autumn leaves drop like the months from my lifespan.
Waiting.
I am in Transition.
Flakes fall from heavy skies
And cling to me like the seconds I catch.
Melting into my skin.
Counting down.
I am in Transition.

A Short Rememberance of Summer, Written in Times Past

I saw a butterfly today.
It flew past my window, delicate, beautiful, graceful.
So close, I thought it might fly in.
I thought of you.

'Waiting', Or 'A Last Ditch Attempt at Contact'

I sit.
In front of my computer screen
With phones surrounding me.
I'd write a letter if I could,
Address it;
Unreachable you.

I've called, again, again
Again.
The texts aside, I've rung both phones
With both phones of mine.

Curse of the modern day.
Technology at our fingertips,
All 'communication made easy'.
Yet I'm here alone,
Uncommunicative.
If I can't reach you.

Slowly But Surely I'm Winning

Something inside me is twisting
Something inside me is bleak.
Something inside me I'm fighting
This twisting; I'm making it weak.

To keep it away from my feelings,
To keep it away from my life
But sometimes it feels like I'm sinking
And drowning and losing the fight.

I can't stop the tears from welling.
I can't stop the thoughts in my head.
And the only thing keeping me going,
Is that I don't want to be dead.

Because there's one thing this twisting cannot touch.
There's one thing that's staying quite pure.
Inside of me somewhere is bright love.
And that will be my final cure.








I love you.

Apologia Pro Lacuna Meo

Sometimes I seem to just say the wrong things.
I open my mouth and words fall out
In all the wrong places.

Sometimes I don't even know why I say it.
I don't think. I misinterpret. I'm just plain stupid.
I never mean it.
I never mean to upset you.
I never mean to make you angry.
I never mean to wreck it all and yet
Over
And Over
And Over
Again
I do.
I'm Sorry.

Beaching

The wash of the sea.
The burning brand.
Everything hurts eyes that have seen too much salt.