Something Different


Working towards something
Pushing myself to the edge
The brink of everything that’s real
The point at which I am dead
Keeps digging, the mind wants more
Keep reliving, the memories I deserve
Stains on broken glass
Visions left without words
Bring to life everything that I fear
Bring the innocent to their knees
Beg for forgiveness though no reason why
I belong to everything, now that is a lie
Working the words into something
Something ugly, the way that I feel
I’m sure by now you can tell
I don’t care about you and how you feel

With Our Ideas On Fire

Broken visions of a better day
Longing fears of something real
A daily grind with a cross to bare
I think I know what it means
I think I’d be wrong
Following in footsteps made of glass
Drowned with air made of poison
A daily grind with our knives on display
I think I know what it means
I think in some way I’d be wrong
Forgiving misgivings yet to happen
Sympathetic to reasons already written
A daily grind with a knotted noose
To be you, to be me
I think I’d be wrong
In assuming I’d have any idea at all



9 thoughts on “Something Different”

  1. “Keep reliving, the memories I deserve”
    I felt this line. Of all the beautifully crafted lines in this, it stood out for me. It’s quite torturous yet irresistible and often unintentional, at times of the night when you don’t WANT memories, but there they fucking go, the little bastards, wreaking havoc on my precious mind.
    I love these “Something Different”. Your poetry touches me, which is fab, and much needed and lovely in lovely ways.
    You’re a poet, even in your fiction.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You’ve never….honestly . You ARE a poet. Trust me. And I don’t throw compliments around willy nilly.
        I mean it, feel it, say it. Quite simple. I gather you like convoluted simplicity…me too.
        Oooh… Convoluted Simplicity
        Smells like a post title…

        I have lots of compliments for you, talented L.

        Liked by 1 person

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