Razor blade cuts
Aren't enough 
Deep gashes 
Ashes to ashes 
Pour salt in my wounds 
I'd only burn for you
People say that its crazy
I think it is maybe 
But I'd give anything 
For her to be my lady

©2017 Written By Benji James

you grab at me, foreboding.
i writhe away, loathing.
brooding, conspiring, a knock at the door.
our love is eternal, forevermore.

I try so hard to unfeel things..
Pushing against the walls of my past.
I invite the help of other hands to topple the monumental foundation that is "Kyle."
It never works..
"I'm responsible for my own happiness."
I'm so irresponsible sometimes..

It's the twenty-third of the month
She's finally discovered a rhythm through the days
but soon enough, a new month will show
and she knows
once again
she'll have to adjust

That's the way it always is
the way it's always been

adjust for her mother, adjust for her father
and when she met him-
she suspected he would assume the same

but he told her
her attempts weren't good enough
which he must really have meant-
she wasn't good enough

so he left, barely the start of the month
and she spent the days alone
and that's what she is dealing with now
days of the month
forever taunting her

and if she lets a tear slip at night
well that just further proves-
she's deficient

they told her
but she tried not to listen
in hopes they could be wrong
but they've always been *right

Today
today I struggled with old feelings
I saw what I use to want
although with me,
was want I want now

so

Tonight
tonight I struggle with mixed emotion
between the then and the now
I will choose the now
but I can never forget the then

Sometimes
Some Images
Remind me of you.

A lake. A prayer.
Soft glow of violet, ethereal.
Soft land beneath our feet,
a lustful calling, sweeter greed.

Warm campfire in a blanket of cold.
A speck of hell under a starless sky.
Two hearts fluttering uneasily.
Sparks,
as you bless my palm with a dandelion.
Eternal promise of love.

A playground. Old sunken swings.
A boat of moonlight in it's wings.
Pitched laughter, the creaking of swingboard.
Your hands in mine. Serenity galore.

Christmas trees, laden with lights.
Merry songs. Gifts and sights.
Bliss turns into panic. You cough out blood.
A strange fear
Lingers in the air.

A hospital room. Cold and bright.
A machine with curves beeping fast.
Your hand in mine. Slumped body on bed.
You close your eyes in my arms.
Silence.
Death came at last.

Sometimes
Some Images
Remind me of
an incomplete love.