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Editing - draft

Self Murder

I see you trying to lure me to you.
I see you occupying my space whenever I’m alone.
I see you jump into my head when I put it on the pillow.
I feel your presence in the room when I can’t sleep at night.
I see you promising me nothing but peace and silence.
You made me think that you were my safe haven.
You gave me a test, I took it and I failed.
You gave me another one, I took it and failed.
I see you trying to show me what a great angel I could be.
Too bad I got no strength.
Too bad I’m afraid, I’m scared.

Forged in Fire

Out of the darkness, he pulled me
with all his strength and grace.

He swept me up and carried me
through the fire.

He tore down my walls and
Used the stones for our foundation.

His hand kisses my cheek
And wipes away the tears

He tends to my wounds
And holds me as I heal

Forged in fire
Our bond is unbreakable

Blessed am I,
For I know love in its purest form

Blackberry Winter

It’s the end of April…
Spring awakens after it’s long winter rest
The sun glistens between the fresh leaves on the trees
The birds sing once more
And the days last longer

Blackberry Winter stops by for a visit
Reviving the barren bushes
As the berries begin to blossom,
I am reminded…
Just as the weather and plants change
With every new season,
I must do the same.

Imagine

Imagine there is heaven,
Consciousness of a feeling,
Euphoria that cannot be found,
Whilst we live attached to our ground.

Grounded only in truth,
Or lies that grow from false reality,
Spawned by temporary enlightenment,
What grows to ingest by you and me.

A taste of imagine,
The hurt of permanent transcendence,
Or slowing to stop then move on,
Imagine there is heaven.

Wait For Me...

I was waiting in line,
just standing there.
Been waiting so long
I needed a chair.

Why was everything
taking so long?
I stood fidgiting,
humming a song.

Long hair and jeans,
a Pink Floyd T-shirt.
I knew in a moment,
this look would hurt

I'd be searched for the drugs,
they knew that I had.
I was a smuggler,
they knew I was bad.

What's in the bag,
that you have right there?
My clothes and a doll
for my dearest, sweet Claire.

Magic Cookies...

Baking "Magic" cookies today
staying nice, what it's all about
Start the stove, pre-heat that thing
get the ingredients out

Smell of sugar, flour, vanilla
Carmel drops and all things nice
I add the last ingredient
It's my one and only vice

Whir of mixer, relaxing
Heat of the stove, the oven
I'll get it all together
On baking pans and then...

Nice warm cookies, cup of tea
I feel the glow of magic
Couldn't be any better
My favorite cookies do the trick

Pandora's Box

Indulge yourself in this fictitious tale
About a girl who removed a lid.
Upon said lid’s abrupt removal
She convinced herself of just approval.
The box she was terribly teased by
Of which the lid was quickly removed,
Proves to us all that temptation’s not easy.
This was Pandora’s box of deadly sins
There were seven of them in total
Because she was mistaking hopeful.
As a result of her hope in the box we can’t cope.
We’re human and our lives are tormented
All because the girl was greedily tempted.

Flinging Spring...

Flinging water everywhere,
the old and chilling breeze
ruffles the feathers of sparrows,
reminding them of the promise.

Warm inside their cozy nests
huddled lovers making songs
built from memories,
that the world will hear tomorrow.

Sealed with the kiss of Autumn,
dreamt of the winter through,
awaiting the awakening,
it's Springtime's little fling.

Fooled Again...

Fooled Again...

Warm breeze dances with cold winds
round and round they go.
Through the trees, wind whipped thin,
hear them sigh and sough.

Flutterbys and hummingbirds
sipping nectar brews,
carry smells and sexiness,
just like precious jewels.

May will gather her bouquet,
Kiss her brow, my favorite sun,
caress her skin with warmth, I say,
she'll love you when you're done.

Spring Ain't Tomorrow...

Devastated with the news of
a late winter storm and black ice,
I was tempted to re hibernate
for the duration

Sweet little child of April,
the spring loaded cherub
of warmer weekends,
I was fooled by the sunshine

Woe is me... the jester grins dark,
and sweet April, mildly amused
promises to love me
next week.

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