Rough Poem

I am only ever as strong
As the bonds between
Myself and others
When those ties weaken
With time and bitter error
Like saddened stems
Or vines in rough, untethered weather
I too wither, bend
And fade
Frost kills the summer glade
It fells even the hemlock
And brutal stinging nettle
And with their brittle stalks
I too, break 

Narrow Lanes

You may stroll down narrow streets 
Hand in hand with your beloved 
Peering into windows bright 
As the autumn light fades 
 
You may imagine your own life 
Behind those windows wide 
But if you were to look into mine, 
My small window one night 
 
You would not look on, dreaming 
You would see a cramped room 
And might hear a cold echo there 
Hollow with loss; a life lacking love 
 
You might stand there looking in 
But life and love call to me, 
Even here, in lonely quarters 
They bid me up and leave, and walk 
 
Hand in hand, as you do 
Gazing in at lives, not my own 
Do not ask me to stay 
In this room without love 
 
Allow me the liberty  
To stroll, to love  
Through narrow lanes 
That life allows me 

Woundmate

You are right 
I am nothing going nowhere 
I am not smart; 
A zero, destined for failure 
 
I do not listen or respect 
I am unkind 
I have gaping holes torn 
In the fabric of my mind 
 
I am weak and stubborn; 
Definitely quarrelsome 
A fork-tongued monster 
With fragile scales of porcelain 
 
You are correct 
I plead guilty in this trial 
The judgement was passed 
By me as a child 
 
Cavities of hurt 
Wounds weeping from the past 
Uncovered by your hands 
Prized open at last 
 
There is no fixing these rifts 
No chance to mend 
You can leave them alone 
Or use them to your ends 
 
Now you know the tender, 
Doubting depths of my needs 
You plundered rubies red, ripping 
I cannot stop the bleed