The visit

He could see how tired she was, that day he happened upon her alone in the café; and though he purposely took his thoughts elsewhere, ignoring her completely, he knew from her body language that he’d once known so well, there was something amiss; and he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in

Multi-purpose

He uses them for everything They often don’t mean anything He leaves them with nothing Varying degrees of his Needs or wants Determine the depth He is forced to Or willing To go Gluttony being his Favored sin He feasts upon Their emotional Need Savoring the flavor Of collective fear Seasoned lightly With his own

Collective fear

I feared the words He spoke were truth Of me About me In spite of me Because He knew me Because I let him Because I wanted him to Like none other Before or after Deeper Better To the core Then left to wonder If he knew me At all © jillterry

From the heart

She bought him a guitar Never once played Forgotten on the porch Like their love untouched Slowly warping in the languid air Unrecognizable it becomes Them simply rots away © jillterry

One step beyond

Finding the capacity To bend without Breaking A willingness to Change Or be changed Some times Often times Easier said than Done © jillterry

Reparation

Within her circle of stones She drifts back to that place Casting out shadows Demons handsome face Once lost in his darkness A labyrinth of despair Longing for an illusion Twin flames sweet embrace That lone wandering drifter Disguised as a sage Stealing souls Trying to make it pay She felt he was coming Hyena

Backtrack

She found herself traveling South on A1A Desperate now to get back To that place Hunting ghosts Slaying demons Searching for that lost Part of her self Since the door was slammed Locked down tight She was filed away On the back of a shelf Images unraveling With the hum of the miles A Technicolor

Wasted youth

The parking lot was full Spilling over onto the boulevard Hearse at the ready To lead the procession 102 in the shade Suffocating humidity No breeze to speak of All those gathered Dressed in black Mourning the loss Young life wasted Blood and tears pouring Tragically taken Listening through the wall Razors trembling fingers As