Helping to hit me down, I will fall.
Over and over again, pick myself up.
Lonely, again and again. I will
Deepen my scars. Deepen the pain. See
Me, See the pain on my face.
Ever so sad, ever so determined
Trying again and again, telling myself
I will make it, telling my self I won't
Let go. Telling myself I will hold on.
Leaving me behind, I will push on.
I will make of this what I can. I will
Make of this a new dawn for me.
Broken once, I will collect the pieces
Ever so gently, piece by piece
Take each one and hold it to my chest
Take each one and like a jigsaw puzzle
Ever so softly, fit together, a shattered
Reminder of what once was.

Farewell. I go to seek the great perhaps

Cheers and waiting

Healing Poet

Story

Note: The following story and names included are entirely fictional.

The boy is dressed for a date. a pressed white button down shirt, nicely ironed pants. He's carrying a bouquet of flowers. He has an unreadable expression on his face. Happiness? Nervousness? Anxiety? You can't really tell.

He reaches the place where he is meeting the girl. A big stone tablet that's been there for sometime. words etched into the stone, well wishes and so on and so forth. He walks through a set of wrought iron gates, and walks along the path. He soon decides to take a shortcut and walks across the grass to the location. Finally, he reaches the meeting spot. She's already there. It seems like she's been there forever, waiting for him to arrive. She looks like how he always remembers her. Flowing shoulder length brown hair, tan skin from being out in the sun, warm brown eyes and a cute button nose.

"Hey there Auguste, I uhm...I brought this for you." He holds up the bouquet he brought. She stays silent, almost as if she is just as nervous as he is, too scared to say anything. He waits a few seconds. "I'll just...put it down here then." He places it on the stone tablet.

"I came here today because I need someone to talk to, and you are by far, the best listener I ever knew. Dad's kicked me out, mom's argueing with dad over his decision to kick me out. I'm crashing at a friend's place, but I'm not sure what I can do now".

She doesn't say anything, just looks at him. He knows what she's thinking. "I tried apologizing, yes. But he's in firewall mode. He needs to cool down first, then I'll go back."

He sighs. Just by listening, she helped him to see the solution to the problem. She had a talent for that. "Life has been...tough. It's hard to explain. Ever since...you know...it's been hard to adjust. I find myself dreaming during the day when I should be awake, and having nightmares when I should be asleep. I don't know anything anymore.

Again, out of respect, she remains silent. "Look you don't have to say anything. I just needed to confide in someone. And I know I can trust you.......Thank you. For everything." He places his hand on the tablet, remembering the last time he etched something into it. He remembers every carving and every fault of the tablet. He should know. He carved it himself. For a long time, he just stands there, remembering everything.

Finally, he places the bouquet infront of her and walks away from the place, smiling. She's smiling too, only her's is frozen in the picture of her. The last picture to ever be taken of her. It stands directly infront of the tablet. It reads

Auguste P. Libere

April 15, 1983 - April 22, 2005

Loved by all, most by one.

"I want you to live without regret"

He's walking away now, it seems as though a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He whistles lightly as he walks across the grass, and out the wrought iron gates.

"I never wished for the stars, only someone to watch them with"
Cheers and waiting,
Healing Poet

Catharsis?

Why is it that almost everything I do causes me or someone else pain?

Oh thats right, because I'm an idiot. I'm a stupid, tactless, masochistic idiot.

I understand why you had to say that. Not that I hate you for saying that, more I hate myself for my inability to have said anything more meaningful when you said that.

Please understand why I do what I do/I did/I'm doing. Its a part of me that has remained constant throughout my life, either because I have been unable to change it or because I don't want to change it. I'm still not sure which. In situations like these, the line seems to blur between the two.

It might be a phase, I don't know. I really don't know. I suppose only time will tell.

Enjoy yourself by the way :) I'm not writing this to stop you. Its just a way of me to get rid of some angst :P

PS I wouldn't be surprised if you read this and laughed :P

Cheers and waiting
Healing Poet

Family Matters.

First post on this blog ever about family.

Big arguement today. I got so fired up I yelled at my dad, but immediately after I wish I hadn't. He's got a hell of a lot of pride, that man. Even when I apoligized after shouting, he wanted to throw me out. Only mom managed to stop him. So now there's a stony silence. All attempts to communicate with dad have been in vein.

Look, don't take this the wrong way, but when/if I become a father, I hope I'm nothing like you. Sure, you respect us, you're the breadwinner, and all that, but you're too blunt, too much pride. You don't know when to back down. I have nothing more to say.

Cheers
Healing Poet

New promises, happier promises

I know you're uncertain of the future. But frankly, so am I. We don't know how long it would take, or if it would even happen at all. But thats what hope's for. It keeps us happy while we wait, keeps us content for now. So at the end of it all, if it does happen, that hope has helped us prepare for it. If it doesn't, then at least during that time we were waiting, we were somewhat content.

Once whole, once broken, now sewn back together

Her moods as changing, as the turbulent weather.

But no matter the cost, with her hand in my palm,

I'll wait for her, for the weather to calm.

I'll keep thinking about that, and I hope you do too. I have...one last question for you.

"When alls been said and done, when this ink no longer shines,

Would you still allow me...to hold your hand in mine?"

Cheers

Healing Poet

Last Stand

All around me, comrades fight.

They fall. Chaos, but we find our

centre. We find our purpose

Someone falls, we move to help, but

Too late, he is gone. His sacrifice

Will not be in vain. We will take this day yet

A lull in the battle, the enemy withdraws

A trap we know, to bait us out. No, we will

Stand. We will renew our vigour

Raise our voices. Sound the

Drums of defiance. Our last chant

Will echo across the memories of this day