I long to be sat in summers youth, that feels as crisp as my pages.

I am always sat on my empty bookself.
A one of a kind, first edition, tragedy.
My authors working on projects much more important than I.

Chapter 1:
summarises the bliss of fresh flesh, unmarked, unripped, ungrammatical because nothing ever mattered.

By my final chapter I had lost my friends, abandoning all hope I lost everything, as my protagonist writhes in agony from heartbreaks that are as fresh as when they began.

On my bookself, dust collects by my blurb (which is only half unwritten), I cannot move though my spine is unbroken.
Half of my contents, speak of brighter times.
Times of infactuations appearing in spring.
Times where playing in the streets was an everyday thing.
Times of scraped knees, bruised arms and hair which was once neatly plaited turned into tendrils spiraling out of control.
Times of being called in for tea.
Being told to remember suncream otherwise your baby doll face will turn to a shrimp.
Times where the nettles sting would be sweeter than the honey of a bee.

As every day closes each chapter, I know they will continue while I stay stuck in my days. Just a scap of literature upon a shelf with no map nor compass. I sit on my shelf and come 5:43 every evening, I watch. The streetlights flicker on and illuminate brighter every second.
I remember.

A happier time.

Before I was written.

Before my pages became tattered and torn.

Once again, I long to be sat in summers youth, that feels as crisp as my pages

once bitten, twice shy.
makes perfect sense
but i'm pressing the teethmarks
she left on my chest
and i've missed this tender aching.
i've missed the misery that
summarises me when we're apart.
infatuated.
cross my masticated beating heart
stick a needle in my eye
once bitten, twice shy
i'll try to fall in love once
before i die.

seven shades of **** and puke
stuck to the soles of my shoes,
eight days straight drunk before noon.
new flat, new friends,
all blowing smoke and jostling me
through musky basement staircases
into dismal dust filled rooms.
where you're waiting for me with
this heavy fog that clogs my pours and follicles
making me feel dumb and unclean.
making my words wet and sticky,
they cling to life unyielding,
falling at my feet, falling short of expressing
their own inadequacy.
and i shuffle uncomfortably around
in the puddle of my words. they
stick to the soles of my shoes like puke,
and the stench summarises me perfectly.

I know of girls

Who are beautiful by themselves, who don't need a boy to tell them or a friend.
They are open, focussed and know how to distinguish.
They  are also  kind and hard working,  full of value, and  don't look down at others.
These Ladys  don't like to depend , are honourable and with that are humble.

I also know of girls

Who are drunk of themselves,
Too proud  to be kind
Who don't support others
Full or empty headed,  they all lack empathy
They divide our society into cast ,
And are real épidémies
They are pit for men
None can advise you to be friend with

It's same for Men ,
One can speak of a Curse to mankind Relating to them.

A  popular Prayer could be "God free us from this ramping diseases who took flesh to live among us "

But that's not what the Bible teaches Us Christians when she speaks of love , She says        
" Do what you want that should be done to you, that summarises the law and the Prophets "
"Love even when there is hatred " otherwise ;  In what are you different from the Others

Regarding These I beg God to forgive me for the Wicked words I used to describe Some of us .
Instead, I should pray For Them , even if  I am a victim

I SHOULD LET LOVE LEAD

I know of girls

Who are beautiful by themselves, who don't need a boy to tell them or a friend.
They are open, focussed and know how to distinguish.
They  are also  kind and hard working,  full of value, and  don't look down at others.
These Ladys  don't like to depend , are honourable and with that are humble.

I also know of girls

Who are drunk of themselves,
Too proud  to be kind
Who don't support others
Full or empty headed,  they all lack empathy
They divide our society into cast ,
And are real épidémies
They are pit for men
None can advise you to be friend with

It's same for Men ,
One can speak of a Curse to mankind Relating to them.

A  popular Prayer could be "God free us from this ramping diseases who took flesh to live among us "

But that's not what the Bible teaches Us Christians when she speaks of love , She says        
" Do what you want that should be done to you, that summarises the law and the Prophets "
"Love even when there is hatred " otherwise ;  In what are you different from the Others

Regarding These I beg God to forgive me for the Wicked words I used to describe Some of us .
Instead, I should pray For Them , even if  I am a victim

I SHOULD LET LOVE LEAD

I'll look into the future
the past I can't change
the prologue
I had written long ago
is now but sand washed
from the languishing shore
into the tumultuous  sea of time

(now the interregnum)

all that which
had gone before
I count as folly
and trivia-
love and hate
doubts and fears
the questioning
the angst
that wouldn't abate
the right direction
I missed
I didn't know
where to go--

( realisation--
  through pain
and tears
I stepped into
  a new long-awaited morrow)

I've since outgrown
the weeds--
in the field
of experience
a new life
I've assumed

though I'm
still a bud
but I know
someday
this would grow
silently flower
and in the gentle breeze
steadily it would blow-

the essence
that life must be
should appear
in the final chapter
the epilogue
that summarises all--

what I would be
is not for others to see
for in this simple corner
at the brink of time
only I
and I alone
could measure
what I truly am
have I lived?
have I betrayed myself?
what do I stand for?
do I sell myself short?
what else do I have to deplore?

from the epilogue
I'll return to the present
bridle in the prologue
a new map
I would draw
where road-blocks
are absent
and forward
I'll walk
engaging
in a dialogue
of my own
every step ahead
on my planning board
I'll highlight
with a strong chalk--

salvation
there's not
but only
within the spot
where my heart and mind
intersect
blend
mutually support

where the rough edges
have been shorn
and a fertile interior
has been born--

where thoughts and feelings
are synchronised
like an orchestra
where all sounds of instruments
are in rapport and tunefully harmonised--

the prologue
must end
in the epilogue

to the sky
at night
I would look
even in the faintest light
as the hours creep by
silently and unnoticed

I would no longer
have tears and know not
how to sigh or cry
as to all that's gone before
I would happily bid goodbye--

in that somewhere
of time
which would be
hidden from my eye
that moment
I would welcome
and embrace
as what has been
predestined
in the mysterious scheme
willingly I would accept

I have lived well
(regret I have none)
my earthly task
has been done
a wondrous experience
it would be to die
into a new beginning
I'm returning home
which was my prologue
long have I travelled
and far did I roam

it's the same gate
that did usher me in
at the very start
now it welcomes me
to pass through
in fullness of heart--

without
the prologue
there would be
no epilogue

nothing that does exist
in life and time
is ever lost--
the prologue
and epilogue
are inter-locked
they leave each other not--

the river flows
into the sea
the waters
become one
not a drop
is not absorbed

life is a mystery
relived
somewhere
beyond the claim
of time
it magnifies
it never dies--

when tired eyes
wake from sleep
from the night before
the awakened
will be greeted
with a bright light at dawn
and all joys
shall be theirs
to eternally keep.

A life is a theme
that summarises
crystallises
what you are
the substance
the essence
the core
of your being entire
minus the trivia--

the waste
and spoilage
of millions
of hours
have consumed
the best
they fall
they despair
fade away
with scar-

all that we are
is self-made
self-directed

how far
we go
lies within
not dictated
by any fateful star-

we are each
a Ulysses
a silent
unknown
hero
only if
we dare
to be
what we are.