— laundry for self, moony moonless sky.

Even if it's a Sad Story ...its meant to be heard...

That day, I laid on the floor

Patiently matching my heartbeat

To the wall clock, hoping to disperse

I laid on the floor, soaking up its warmth

Letting the frozen parts melt, that day

You let go of my hand, and I let go of

The mundane parts of my world......................

everytimeyousaygoodbye ©

Some people are just bridges from the old into the new. But, oh, how I wish I could hold onto you.

At the mid 🌿

I wanna be the subject you brag about, to others;

but also you smile while thinking of, unknowingly.

I wanna be the reason, you take a break from work, to talk ;

but also the incentive that keeps you working.

Because, love stands at the mid of holding on and giving up

I kissed you

your soul caressed mine

you left me

at a vulnerable time

i still see you

shine like the sun

when i found you

felt a choke in my lungs

i did not have anything to say

you had things all your own way

waiting for you to answer my calls

immutual

deprive us of “i”notion as personal savior, and there, the sentence rests. a congregation gathered in doubt transcends necessity for spirit/carnal sustenance. wellspring dry to touch. who goes there to cleanse themselves must not be mistaken by sounds of shifting sentiments. there’s something to be made of all the noise. dialectic abrasions reveal themselves  as falsehoods designed to maintain rather than nurture. where has this left us, but beside the grave made ornate by the spoils of our “success”?

Complete blame on the fact

That you thought you understood me

scope.txt

She was the light lost to time’s terrible tantrum, the figure shaded by wooden skin with a glowing tint of green Celtic marks, a lava like burning heart lost parts, plus hot sparks that once made the Wildfolk and Fey beyond great.

I was the old man sitting on an oak stump with a failing liver and only one life to give her, delivering myself out of love to be my ancient queens final feast.

With lips like white electric lights her kisses burnt me seeping in deeply, singeing my skin as I succumbed to a sweet burning.

Oh, the hurting as limbs were turning flesh to ashen, my energy passing in fiery passion to feed my beloved.

When she was sated, fully fed and elated on my submissive love she buried the remains of an empty husk  with a calcified smiled.

-2022

bigger than this front blowing in from the west, I'm always on the wrong side of some track, downriver from somewhere

the pressure drops and the trees shrug with the anticipation of the weight upon their branches, they and I both heave with the coming rain in our own different ways, our spindly branches swell

sometimes I'm only atmosoheric turbulence, angry fists beneath your wings, ice on your windows, the breeze drying the sweat on the back on your neck

most times I am just some varying intensity of a whisper

Sunrise awaking, in the way she always has, as much as I brim with warmth inside, I'd not mind a gentle sleep.

— growing pains, /sadmorgen/

This Ramadan, I was fasting

Fasting from all the habits

The habits that carve

Carve my skin and bones

Bones so heavy

Heavy enough to weigh on my soul

My soul is a silently screaming

Screaming for relief, for something

Something I don’t quiet know yet

Yet here i sit quietly

Quietly watching everyone live

Live and move on and be happy

Sorrow burns me charred

Charred scars next to wounds

Wounds that never healed right

Wrongness stained my skin

My skin that is carved

Carved by music, tears and blood

Blood that never seems to run out

Out of this universe I occupy

Emptiness have never tasted sweeter

Bitterness haunts my mind

Mind-fog, smoke-filled and cloudy

Cloudy eyes with heavy rain

Rain soaking my chopped off hair

Hair I pull when tears fall

Fall on half-written words

Words i try to describe this month

Month of holiness and hollowness

Hollowness and guilt

Guilt and regret

Regret for fasting

Fasting forever from habits of comfort

Done

Can you see the white flag The fabric moving frenetically against the shadows For that is where I live Amongst the shadows A mere figurine in the story of life I have tired of striving Of being the bigger person Of putting the interests of others before my own I surrender I am not defeatist I am a realist I cannot struggle I can cry no longer I am done.

Delightsofmysoul 26 May 2022

Young hearts run free forever.

J. K. L

I learned how to draw

In a way different than yours

For my brush is a pen

And your strokes are my words

You paint a picture with your colors

While I let my writing draw up all sorts of images

I learned how to draw

But I learned it with my words.

- m.a. | mawriting

With my hand in my heart and with a furrowed brow, I choke on the fragments of my shattered dreams

I was trying to undress your armour,

until I realised it was actually your skin.

There wasn't anything underneath

after all.

- G.L. Angelone

Mudflap Elegance

Hey, now Keep your waffles On the plate We’re not fighting here

Hey, now You don’t want To be wanted Sometimes I don’t either

yesterdays toast

every house

holds secrets

& my folks

was one of those

contained

more than most

the old mans shame

of being divorced

& hers of

coming up poor

is why they mortgaged

more than

they could afford

pretending to live

be part of the comfortable

living on beans

yesterdays toast

putting on a show

for those with noses

wanting to know

ferret out secrets

makes an uncomfortable ride

for the poor

the shamed

to hide

neil benbow