and so I wrote this just now
 

He lives in a room
All on his own
He writes out poems
Nobody reads, nobody gets

She doesnt cry
Anymore, she doesnt
Wear that shirt he bought
Ever, but she hasnt thrown it out

All he ever needed was a sense of perspective
All the love he feels is undirected
Oh mother, oh mother, I cant explain
Just what you've done to me

She never knows how to answer the phone
It could be anything
the wars I wage, the wars I wage
Mean NOTHING to her
Just an ideal

Every black eye I've ever took
Healed up long ago
There's lots of things I cant get right
But I'll fight
If you try to kill me tonight
I wish I could dye my eyes all white
And I wish I could be there tonight
SO if you start crying
I could kiss away your tears
I wont be crying
But I wanted to

And I wanted to
Flicking through these photographs
The sun in your hair
That smile, your hand
Unthinkingly finding mine
The old field behind the estate
And another
Your hand on my chest
Golden hair
Your hand in my hand
A unthinking kiss
Unblinking eyes, staring into me
The ringtone of your phone
Jesus
There is only so much
Of this I can take
Without dying.

Good to see you back in here, SF


This shows a conflict, to me - how to be true to yourself and still reach out and allow others in .,.. it is a balance we all work at :)

Very powerful and very heartfelt.

I cannot wait to read more of your work. Thanks for sharing.