You sold me out to save yourself.

Desired by many.

Loved by none.

Too much to handle.

Unlike no other,

meant to be good.

Intentions not to offend,

none the less insolence vacillates.

Intimidation presses.

Men acting as boys,

perhaps that’s the misgiving.

No man to handle such a siren.

Looking for that one.

Grab the reins and ride.

Life After

Hearts that lay in pieces truly can beat again

If only for a moment

the ease of affliction is possible

Torment pushed aside by caramel eyes

Weakened as desire for another presses

Strong hands touch

Lips kiss

Senses dulled by words on sweet breath

Know this;

if nothing at all

There is life after the death of love

New love blossoms like a flower in spring

A fresh do over

Old pains never truly forgotten

Time doesn’t heal wounds

Moving on makes it bearable



True Love Is Suicide

To love and lost is as if death saturates

Corrupting all good to which once blessed

Air turns to acid as this shell becomes hollow

Breaths become mechanical

Mind and body fight for survival

as the soul turns to ash

All’s taken including any reason for life

Once tear soaked cheeks

now dry without emotion

No longer belonging to the one

True love is better left untouched

Broken forever with missing pieces

never found again

Pain accompanies always

never gone

Used to it?


Covet it?


Want it?




Love; of English alphabet.

Beauty in four letters,

Simple and perfect.

Does thou love thee when imperfection begins?

To what if fallacies take over?

Is love patient?

Would love abandon when life’s low?

Life without love is unbearable!

If forced to choose between life and love;

Love wins every time.