you said you were leaving

i was overwhelmed by this happiness

you were finally out of my life

i could finally be free

so you packed your things, you went to your car and loaded it

then,

you turned to me

pulled out a handgun

and shot me in the chest

my skin tore and presented a large gaping hole

and from it poured bright red disappointment

my ribs cracked and out rolled my heart onto the concrete of my patio

you laughed a hearty laugh with wicked undertones

you shoved your gun into your pocket

watched me choke, watched me scream at the top of my lungs, struggle for air, struggle for anything

then towered me, bent down swiftly and picked up the bleeding thing

you smirked at me, "only taking what's mine"

i never saw you again

The mind commits suicide long before the body does

Getting high is said to be relaxing and fun.
But no one ever said anything about being high on you,
-- being high on love.

Craving you,
Wanting you more and more,
as the day goes by.

Let me just tell you that being high on you is not fun at all.
Nor is it relaxing.
You have left me high and so ******* dry.

Craving for you more than ever,
Only to find out that I am nothing to you.
-- That I'll never be anything to you.

Good guys finish last
Because they put their ladies first.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Ideas are like tall trees
they begin microscopic
small beams of humble enlightenment
of what they could become
until a mighty body emerges
and boughs like warrior arms reach
draping and lush
inviting suggestion

I am surrounded
by many eager minds
towering above
my own meagre imagination
kings and queens
of profound thought
how they stretch to find me
so my inner eyes
may witness restoration

Ideas are like tall trees
where even darkness
fails to demolish