He always wrapped up
when he went outside.
Buttons up to the top,
scarf wrapped around twice.

Hat pulled down tight
with his earmuffs on,
skin windswept white,
all sunny summer long.

since lies are sweet
and the truth is bitter
i'm not surprised
i liked you better

these days,
your eyes are sad and cold
and
there's a noticeable gruffness to your voice
these days

these days,
your clothes are always ripped
and
i seldom see you smile
these days

these days,
you're silent like a ghost
and
the faint smell of cigarettes sticks to you like glue
these days

these days,
i never see you without a bottle
and
i'm unsure why, but you always carry needles
these days

these days,
a man is always on your arm
and
then there's a new one the next day
these days

these days,
i don't know who you are
and
i wish you would come back
*always

The thunder claps loudly
but the following silence is heavier.
Two sets of eyes search for comfort in darkness
-they're blinded when the sky blinks red again.
The clouds sigh green,
it's not deep- you're 16
but you sigh, when
you're asked
to repeat
what you said
again

Energy is so unique
it speaks
straight to the soul and
wraps like ribbons round the bones.

Soft like smoke to touch,
but hot like smoke in the lungs.
You don't need to say too much,
unspoken words say enough.

It's not simply mystical
Einstein said it's empirical
since everything's vibrational;
why do we seal our lips and
claim love is unascertainable?

the winter cold
seeps into my bones

and the image of you
comes back to me too

i thought i forgot
but i clearly did not

She was staring out the window
On a rainy afternoon
She liked jazz
but he always played blues

Tune after tune

So it was blues she listened to
With mock appreciation
for the records in the room

A lazy lovers weekend
with books and plants and puff

She smiles every so often
But she knows she’s had enough

Thoughts wash over the mind
like torrential, self-inflicted rain.
But I'm hooked on stormy seas
and allergic to plain sailing,
- drunk on self-stimulated danger.
Like a **** show on the TV
you can turn it off when you please,
but the white noise occupies your mind,
so you turn it up and press repeat.