One more year ends,
Counting few others.

This is the time
of the blown out candles,
Unaired balloon,
No whipped cream,
And non received postcards.

The closed restaurants,
And unreachable phone lines,
and boredom filled eyes.

It is the time of truth
Looking into my lines,
I have seen many years now,
Never seen times like this.

A very happy birthday to me.

Laying open on the table
Exposed
They are pulling
A person at each limb
Tugging me apart from within
Competing for all I can give
Their nails sinking through the skin
Don’t let them in
Tension through my bones
Finds an epicentre at the core
And will rupture I am sure
under the opposing pressures
torn by what what they want from me
I am the crossroads
This strain entices me to cave
Oh self please consume me
I am impaled by these paths
that pervade my airways
Nostrils filled by roads
that suffocate me
Which do i take?
or is it that I simply break?
Free.