Burning Wood

The last chapter to this storm of disaster

a new slate to begin maybe even a new friend

keeping calm on rough tides to set foot on still land

here has come today the last of past

no more cracked concrete but open green grass

i wait for the action to know the next play

fooling myself each day all day

a foolish fool i am and have always been

why cant I accept what appears to be an end

My heart keeping me blind loaded wounds without a mend

the insides are sliced and diced no longer a perfect 10

If its not to perfection how could it ever be

it once was the only way you ever saw me

to have been chopped into pieces like wood from a tree

with only leaves left to wonder how this could be

if only love between two could ever be true

I guess that’s why some painters only paint in blue

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dead Island

Must be a get back game that’s continued to play

im strung along but the play is one way

the game grows tired through each passing day

your heart is too hurt no room for me to stay

the damage has been caused all the way around

and each and every smile has been made turned upside down

Bottles are on hand for ones like me to drown

but keeping calm is all that’s left to be found

These words were written in the days counted down

but I’ve reached the finish line with hardly no words to be found

Its a dead end with no more road left to travel

my heart I leave here under dirt road and gravel

 

Work Desk (random thoughts) 4/9/14

Ok, I will let you know as soon as possible to defy the ages and times of afternoon thought of companionship floating through a world of non-existence.   Diving off a precipice with sheer motivation and an uncontrolled desire. Sweeping past waves of hurdles to get to that final destination, and only in the cutting edge of a moment will there be any glimmer of progress. To stand still is not of option for you are destined to float through the many corridors that befall and beguile us all. Keep in mind the key that is being etched to fit the tumbler of your being for it is sure to commune as a fitted destiny.

Valentines Day Massacre

It was all in the music, a playlist that seemed to end, began, and not start at all.  She was devastated to learn that all she had been hoping and waiting for was never going to come or at least it didn’t seem like it.  There were too many signs that went on ignored and the bottom line is that she was let go to suffer alone.  The dull dim light that shinned at the end of her tunnel seemingly began to become more and more dim on the day of that day of the 14th year of the 14th day.  She has no music she stated.  The songs are only empty vessels of sound that carry the whispers of a ghost haunting her heart with each melody.  The night she saw him cured her of nothing but only seemed to create more division.  Panic strikes her soul like lightning bolts and only gives her momentary illusions of happiness.  How could she ever draw away from the pain that will not let her go, she is wrapped in bondage and hidden in the dark.  Even though he knows she’s there he leaves her there hopeless every time.  What he can’t see he won’t feel and if he does feel he will be sure to kill it with a harsh reality of another’s presence a reality that she refuses to accept but knows its truth in her heart.  How could time permit such an amputated state of being, maybe I am not all here she thought, only what does not exist does not heal.  She thought it was all in the words but words are carried off into the wind and turn into nothing without action.  Just like the brain and the heart only both working together will give you real truth.  The possibility of her real truth could collapse her into a new dimension whiting out all that existed to never again exist.  If she really is all there she must butcher the part that will not heal itself.  She will surely die if trapped in a snare forever.

Begin again

You have made your choice and there is no need to wait

why wait another year when disappointment is fate

i thought it was real when I bit at your bate when all the time what you dangled was nothing but fake

the last will die and the fungus will start to grow

it was true love but you killed it slow

it only takes time for real feelings to show and time can stunt feelings so that feelings won’t grow

maybe it’s me expecting too much but one sided love can truly be tough

If the one that you love came back to you now there would have been no wait nor tear or frown

i have read between the lines that are hidden and blurred like a drunk it can make ones speech become slurred

there are no obstacles that get in the way not money, sex, or anything you can say

action speaks so much louder than words and what i get from your actions are the things unheard

best friends you have planted all over the town so it’s my face that’s drawn into one of a clown

not even a real friendship in exchange but it’s not your fault I’ll be the one to blame

life is a party and you are the host I bid you farewell with a New Years toast