CUTS

Cuts and scrapes can make me stronger, foolish lines did read.
My pain inside no more, longer the slices hardly bleed.
I used to wince but now I smile as the weapon works.
Every time I open skin laid back my insides now rebuked to bleed.
They leave me breathing red mouths open on me.
Wincing hurting watching peeking scars so plain to see.

Bag

A guest in every home I was.
A survival kit in every box.
A moment shared with self again.
A person that was still, there.

Kiss

Fleeting moments gathering fast, 

quickly setting sun.

Urgent kisses frantic pressed,

lovely reply.

August

a rush from a cool breeze
a last sweat from the sun

moments taken to reflect
the daylights hastened run

a smiled moment shared
memories made in joy

June 2015

Hope

The storm never stops, the peace never comes.
A world apart from ourselves we live.
No hopeful truths endure and rust,
not matter what they give.

Hope and lies they grow no matter,
what poison is brewed to beat.
The end is part of all beginnings,
though this ends not in defeat.

Year

Every year a new post. Every post another glance.

Winter

The movement of the sun had its moment, and returns. The daze pains more every annum.