Her Request

Don't kiss me.
You do so differently when you're high,
The passion evaporates from your brain into the sky.
Your hands leave my face to cup my breasts and make their way to my thighs.
Emotionless,
The emotions are less.
All I see is lust when I look into your eyes,
And I refuse to swim in those pools, 
Because my darling I will drown.
See I've been to hell,
I refuse to go back down.
I don't mind your habits,
I like to walk on clouds too.
But I want to feel you and be with you sober.
So I ask got the same.
I'll wait for you to come down from the clouds and dance with me in the rain.

The Butchers Garden

I hear them tremble in the early morning winds,
They know what Saturday mornings mean.
So the birds sing songs of sorrow as Saturday morning dawns,
Fir those who are to become victims at the end of the butchers yawn.

I lay in bed awake listening for the slow dragging of his feet.
Each footstep still heavy with sleep.
As he heads towards his arsenal,
Silent cries of horror.
I lay in bed listening.
Wind carrying the voices of his victims whispering.
None sure if who will be cut off this weekend.

He cuts and slices with such ferocity,
Standing back to admire his work.
His would be victims praying that he is pleased,
If not it could be them that lay at his feet.
He walks briskly now, this cleanse had finally woken him,
All that's left is for the dead to be cleaned.
I wait in the kitchen for my father the butcher, he is done for the weekend.
Garden grooming I've termed killing season.

The Fear Of Lost

I hate it when you say you feel lost.

Sat here with no way of helping you find yourself.
I cannot even be lost with you.
All that is left is worry.

So I pray, I pray for you. I found God recently, and he's become my light.
I'll share that light with you.
So I say little prayers for you, I keep you in my heart because He knows my heart and grants me my desires.

So wonder on little dove, lose yourself, take the wrong steps, don't be afraid to feel lost.
In turn, I'll refrain from worrying.
I've spoken to the One above about you.
I've sacrificed my angels for you.

They shall keep you. 

Keep you for me.

Clarity

A full moon, clear skies, a clear mind and a clear heart.
You are the resulting image from this moment of clarity.
You are the modest one.
Beautiful as you are, you gave yourself to me,
My imperfections poisoned it. 
Alas, here I stand, alone, you've departed from arms.

I will chase.
Allow this one last thing, that you'll give me the chance to earn you back.
It's been brief but I could not tell you the last time the thought of a woman brought me this much joy.
The pleasure that erupts at the thought of you,
The pain that pierces as a result of the distance between us.
I chase for the mixture of both emotions.

You've lit a flame long since put out in my life.
This flame burns with the intensity of the flames of hell,
But lights up my path like the golden streets of heaven.
Don't put it out my dear,
Let it burn.
I'll show my scars with pride.

And if this is love, I'll let the flames engulf me whole.

Morning Orchestra

Where were you?
How could you have been asleep?

A piece worthy of Him.
Whom you ask?
A piece worthy of God. 

So beautifully composed, gracefully delivered.
I dare not, but my words will try to do it justice.

I woke to the dawning of day, the intro was darkness.
She was well delivered, I warmed up to her.
My heart saddened as she was taken away.
I saw the stars disappear.
Witnessed the moon fade, and with them gone, darkness failed to exist.

But my tears were wiped away with a crimson splash in the sky.
The smile on the face of the moon as she submitted herself to be a thing of the past.

Darkness became blue, and within that blue, a light began to rise.
A light so brightly beautiful I could not stare in her face.
Her name was Sun, she was dressed in the morning, and her tune was the day.
And as she danced, she woke the world.
As she danced my smile grew.
As she danced I was grateful.
Grateful to God above, that I could see such a piece come to life.

Henry's Dance

Henry,

You always looked handsome in your blue coat.
Even better when the light brought out the shade of green.

Destiny would describe our first encounter perfectly.
Prior to out meet, you were that unwanted, but eventually appreciated alarm.
Your roof top cries became a welcome one, waking me up before the sunrise.
Your cries heavy with loneliness,
As grateful as I am for the wake up call, I couldn't and still can't help but feel sad for you.

But what I feel most sorry for is your untimely death.
The picture of you bathing in the rain on my father's lawn last summer, still so vivid in my mind.
Pain and anger stemming from the fact that I never got to see your dance.
I bet it would have been a sight.

Your strut so magestic,  I watched you eagerly, longing for your tail to spread.
Flaunting those magnificent feathers, with colours words can't describe, and a gratitude for eyes to appreciate them.

Alas, I'll never appreciate.

Henry's dance.

The Need For Time Travel

What I would not give for that sofa.
That night.
The smell of alcohol in the air,
Our sober states.

I don't mind, let the same words be repeated.
As well as my blatant lack of awareness of your affections for me.

In that moment, perfection exists.
I want for many things, but what was shared in that moment I need.

The closeness felt without a touch.
The secrets made known with just a glance.
The comfort felt with someone not known prior to that moment.

What I would not give for that sofa.