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My hand in yours fits warmly - Strange but safe. I feel Happy...? Something almost familiar. Damn. I was once good at this. Joy used to be easy, not scary.  You. Lovely you. Kind you. Darling you. Your lips taste sweet, they taste new. They trace desire; gently Drape affection Over older sorrows. Fingers run softly Over scars, old wounds. Almost soothing - If I let them soothe. Can I? Should I? Is it safe? Trust feels foreign, as does joy. Simple could not be more complicated. Your hair. Your eyes. How easy this is. Terrifyingly easy. Skin on skin, sleepy smiles. Oh lord, that grin. My heart trembles. Tumbles.                                                        ...

Fire

What do you do When the smoke From the fire that Burns in your belly Chokes you now? Which way Do you turn When the rope With which You pulled yourself Up to new heights Now threatens To tighten Around your neck? To whom can you Call for help When you are meant To be the Strong one The leader Path-breaker Dream-maker? How do you Learn to love Your previously Frantically hidden Fragility That slightly broken Imperfect Incomplete being That human Creature in the mirror? Will you Tell me how, To whom, Which way, And what, Once you learn The answers? My fire burns Low and I need your help Finding my Warmth Again.                                                       ...

Home

You. For whether you knew it or not , It was your destiny to be my greatest joy and My deepest sorrow. The force That tumbled my world down, to rebuild it In the blink of an eye, In such form and shape as to shelter you Within its warm boundaries. Eternity . . . Is a brave claim to make, but I do so with quiet calm and kind certainty -  To me, you shall forever be Sweet light And mournful shadow. The eye Of my once-whirlwind, the memory Of the undertow beneath My still waters. My tears and recriminations Bow in supplication to This silent strength in my soul That binds me to my truth: In you, I was once home. ~ACM   (Original 13 Apr 2019 rev. 03 March 2020) © 2019-2025 ACM. All rights reserved.  

Time

We make peace with compromise, And recognise second chances to be precious and rare, And closed doors far easier to find. Reality stings; goodbyes are not all bad. Black and white soften into a greyscale rainbow. Hope becomes patience. Laughter is married to tears, till death doth them part, Love to despair, light to dark, and smile to sorrow. The mountain often goes unclimbed: strength fails. Dreams become bittersweet, Heartbreak, more than mere passing acquaintance. And we learn the inner workings of poignancy. Failure becomes friend, Like the demons that walk beside us - Those steadfast companions. We are kinder to shortcomings: Tomorrows might be distant luxuries. ~ACM (Original 03 July 2018 rev. 03 March 2020) © 2018-2025 ACM. All rights reserved.  

Oh.

Oh. It is unfair - - That songs sing about you now. - That tears fall for you now. - That everything else is gone now, erased now. - That I belong to you now   Beyond question, beyond self.   Beyond help. - That you don't need me.   Nor want me. - That you're probably keeping me   Because you had me for free. - That dreams twist around you now   Darkness forms itself into you now. - That I'd move worlds for you now:   But, it's so comical, this fact that you don't need me to. Pain - Is knowing wrong is not always wrong,   And right not always right. - Is my dissolution into you   And my recrystallisation into heartbreak. - Is realising futility,   But choosing to ignore it. - Is flinging self into fire,   Knowing full well it burns. - Is breaking faith   Where I never dreamed I would. - Is dancing between bad and worse. - Is truth, is strength, is powerlessness. - Is looking at you....

Non-Linear

Non-Linear Quiet patience, soft joy, Contented love. - Day One.                     Tempest, tumult, tears.                             Frustration.                                 - Day two.                                  Ambition, fear, fire.               Anxiety. - Day three.                                       Hilarity, happiness. ...

The Bogey-Man

Once, when I was very young, I was afraid, very afraid, Of what I called the Bogey-man. They told me he lurked under my bed, With long fingers, groping fingers, Searching, reaching, to catch hold of me. He had jagged teeth, they said, That’d tear into me, deep into me And leave every bit of me in shreds. He’d hurt me till I cried, they said, And crush me in his unbreakable grip, And leave me no way to escape. Child that I was, I feared the unknown, the dark, And sought safety, temporary safety, In my blanket-cocoon at night. Years passed, and I forgot my terror, Dismissed my inner child’s foolishness; I ventured into the real world. I grew strong and tall, and unafraid, Undaunted by the dark, the alluring, exciting dark, And laughed at my vestigial dread. Years passed, and the Fates smiled, And bestowed on me good fortune - very good fortune; All was light, and naught was shadowed. Until I met him, the Bogey-Man. Disguised, devious, deceptive. He made day night, and light dark. He ...