like a brand new ink cartridge
you pushed me into your pen
and drew with me
such beautiful lines
and I caressed your pages
with mine.
you used me up,
but not completely,
my colour was never enough.
you wanted more
and yanked me out
without a glance
discarded me on the floor.
will you chase away my sorrow, that haunts me in the night? the courage i must borrow to escape misery and strife. the darkness it covers me like a blanket of despair. the weight does suffocate me as i claw and grasp for air. the moon gives off no light; the stars have been blacked out. the fear does steal my sight leaving just pain and doubt. come play me your sweet music that lulls me back to sleep. the only thing that calms me, your lullaby to keep.
such a delicate flower he held in his hand, the petals he crushed as if to take stand. their fragrance was sweet and felt like a cry; so gentle and vulnerable, the roses we find. do flowers have spirits, perhaps even a soul? nobody has asked this when cutting them all. who are we to assume, as arrogant as we are, that we alone have feelings when we destroy and command.
come and find me
if you can!
amongst all the stuff
that makes up my land.
past the shoes
and piles of clothes
that haven’t been worn
since days of old.
come if you dare
into my castle -
can you find me,
amidst all the parcels?
turn a sharp left
past all those books
that are no longer read,
or warrant a look.
hunt through those bags
for which i have many,
and whom for i wasted
my hard earned money.
beyond all the storage
and cupboards of stuff,
you’ll find some more shit
and hoards of unloved.
THE LONELY WHITE WOLF 