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 Aug 2015 Peter Watkins
Helen
I see the scars upon your wrist
and I know that the visible
is divisible, by the ones you hide more often
the ones on your thighs, on the inside
of lips, where teeth have softened
I know your grief and the need to feel pain
but could you stop, refrain
for just a moment, in the time that remains
It hurts, oh god, how it hurts
the emotions that feed upon your brain
but you don't have to cut so young
you haven't become
an adult that is riddled with just as much pain.
Have you ever buried your own child?
Do you know that pain?
Have you been made redundant from your job?
Are your kids asking for money, while eating leftovers?
Now, there's a reason to feel insane
Have you been in a car accident
and couldn't get a wheelchair or surgery, for another year
or two
Have you had a child out of wedlock?
Apparently rapists are fathers too!

I'm not saying that what you are feeling
is invalid and regardless of age
but harming yourself, when so young
negates your ability to weather the storms
that will inevitably come your way
I am in no way dismissing the idea of self harm and the thought and emotions behind it. I've dealt with it with a child and even my husband, please, all I'm asking is you speak up, talk to someone, Please, just stop hurting yourself.
it is within us
vague yet vivid
soundless yet deafening
boundless yet finite
this could be nothing
if you see it
as a perception of your mind
this could be everything
if you believe in it
beyond your limitation*

©IGMS 2014
the magic lays within us
and if you truly believe in it
everything you do will be perfectly crafted
 Aug 2015 Peter Watkins
Rapunzoll
He's the dagger
twisted in my gut,
all the pretty words
dolled up with a
smile that is anything
but pure or true.

He's a spicy treat,
when all I'm looking for
is something sweet.

Perhaps it's wrong of
me, to search for love
in eyes that wander so
far I have to make
maps of their journey.

He has me falling
from the tallest crevices
with promises to catch
me with arms that are
already holding another.

He's a lost cause,
a candle blown out,
the stolen kiss that
was never returned.

But I'd bet all my
money on him within
a heartbeat if he said
he felt even a mere
shadow of what I did.
© copyright
 Aug 2015 Peter Watkins
Helen
wanting to see it all
from top to bottom
sitting in the stands
smelling something rotten
leaving a nasty taste in my mouth
a moue of disappointment
under appreciating surroundings
feeling a loss of entitlement
wanted to taste it all
wanted to speak its language
wanted to experience it's thrall
felt nothing except banished
saw nothing but heartache
saw nothing but fear and pain
felt nothing in my exile
wings beating hard, here I remain
Does hate stay entwined in the back of your mind?
Is one of a kind love permanently etched in time?
Could death be the end of an idea
Even if it's never born?
Is life given from the inside
Before it's given the chance to form?

Some things can never end,
All things in life deserve the chance to breathe.
An idea, a feeling, even the things you never see.
It is my theory
that we are all connected.
From the thread around your finger
to the ribbon on her wrist
and the rope tightened on my neck.
Every action has a consequence,
because when you pull on the string;
*something unravels.
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