The Flower-Flop Interregnum.

Am I sick of the drama?

Do I want to dive back in?

The in-again, out-again

Can I see an opening?

You closed me up well enough

Sutured the wound against fester

Applied enough disinfectant

To let me know how much I wouldn't miss you

But the delusion lingers:

Do I still have love to give?

I guess it never ends,

While there's still a life to live

The fear lies in starting over,

Laying one's heart on the line

When it's so freshly broken

Chopped and steeped in brine

How do you give when you have nothing

How do you bring something to the table?

When the faith you put in life is gone?

You are willing but unable?

Hope seems a joke word

Charity far from the door

Strangers may look in

But they will be ignored

Can you start a heart up

That has been falsely stopped?

I guess its in the chest

Of the guest who knows best

As to whether love has flowered or flopped

© shaun patrick green 2019

the price of love

met you in a dive bar

should have known the odds

dealing with fucking junkies

not with living gods

why am I drawn to tragedy?

I ask myself that question

looking into the mirror

seeking someone else's reflection

love is never a guarantee

against unending sorrow

take a chance, have a dance

we'll be dead by tomorrow

warming earth, dying sea

take my hand in this dark hour

a world for you, a world for me

if only we had the power

i live to take it

you take it to live

money is the difference

and no one's willing to give

i hate conformity

you conform to hate

lick your lips, covet me

there's nothing left to save

on a dying earth, a flaming sea

we'll be a power couple

i know you'll bend to the cause

because you're so damn supple

you fuck me like a champion

suck cock like its meth

only thing between you and freedom

will be your untimely death

if I'd found you in a dumpster

I'd throw you right back in

but i didn't and i need you

so let the pain begin

(c) shaun patrick green 2019