Hello Friend

 

Playing my old guitar ,
Old days like dead stars, falling apart
Memories hold me back, they’re trying to Steal my dreams away
I’ve never seen such a lonely heart, making my six string Rot and stale.

A broken guitar
Broken from inside and outside
I can hear the screams of pain that has stayed Of late.

Hello Friend,

you’re back again asking me what I have to say
Well Can you hear my six strings fade away
There was a time, it had a name, now it’s just broken it’s not the same.

Please don’t forget our time she said,
the time when we played and laughed away
the time when you kissed my soul, my name
for all to see who loved us just the same.

A broken guitar
Broken from inside and outside
I can hear the screams of pain that has stayed Of late.

Hello Friend,

you’re back again asking me what I have to say
Well Can you hear my six strings fade away,
There was a time, it had a name, now it’s just broken it’s not the same.

Oh I see,
you played with me played with my name
My soul feels tired, it wants to rest now
my heart is broken it needs to be fixed now
Just go away get the fuck away,
The time has come for you to go home now.
Just leave me in pain, let me be how I know I need to
I cannot be broken I am not my old six string.
Though I’ve lost my name, but soon I’ll find it.

A broken guitar
Broken from inside and outside
I can hear the screams of pain that has stayed Of late.

Hello Friend,

you’re back again asking me what I have to say
Well Can you hear my six strings fade away
There was a time, it had a name, now it’s just broken, has lost its name

UNPICKING THE OLDER GIRL

Hands in my face,
disfiguring
the eye beds
figuring, I, me
and myself.

Losing now,
has everything
the child
had in
no defence,
and I am finding
all the extracts,
now
the laying lawn
has taken
in
my old
somebody
else.

The damage
coaster dips
to try, again
a chilly
abyss.

You all don’t get it,
YOU,
hanging out your net,
that
my fingers only
tickle at
my bloody biggest
stretch!

But, please forgive
my painfulness.

© A2Kdavis 2016

the girl on the swing

The girl skipped off the swing

and walked away.

 

That swing is moving still;

caught, I thought at first,

by a slow wind.

 

But its twin, the swing

next to it, is dead still.

 

I think that I’m lost

in the sky, the leavings

of a butterfly;

 

eyes upon the ghost

that once was a girl.

 

4-5 September 2015