1. And I never left

    Brother,
    turned into a ghost.
    Now he’s gone,
    don’t know where.
    Never sleeps,
    has no cares.
    But in death he revels,
    taunts himself with its spell.

    And he looked into my eyes
    with hate,
    as police milled around,
    to decide on his fate.
    But they just let him go,
    now he’s gone,
    don’t know where.
    Let me sing you the song of the lost.

    Mental illness,
    a devil so deep.
    Not just sadness, not sorrow,
    not that life makes you weep.
    But a loss of control
    overwhelming,
    and a sense of proportion
    suspended.
    A belief in the bad things as right?
    Maybe not, maybe not, maybe not.

    Copyright Mark Manchester 2014

     
  2. Requiescant in amore

     

    Get kicked,

    the pain fills you;

    yet you still

    remain in love.

     

    Feel the hate,

    the eyes despise you;

    but you still

    remain in love.

     

    See the fear,

    the laughter cuts you;

    and you still

    remain in love.

     

    You got it bad,

    that’s self-abusive;

    you always will

    remain in love.

     

    Copyright Mark Manchester 2014

     
  3. Bad seeds

    You have to go through the bad times

    to make the good times feel better. 

    But just don’t forget

    to plant the seeds of the good

    while the bad beats you up. 

     

    Copyright Mark Manchester 2014

     
  4. Long soak

    Why am I hurt
    so badly
    by this fight?

    Why
    am I hurt so badly by
    this fight?

    Why am I
    hurt so badly by this
    fight?

    Why?


    Copyright Mark Manchester 2014

     
  5. Where art thou?

    Chased by my shadow,
    forced to retreat.

    Though you’ll come knocking,
    I’ll not be here.

    To run from my home!
    Due to your scariness.

    Nobody will know
    what I’m doing.

    Nobody will know
    how I feel.


    Copyright Mark Manchester 2014

     
  6. Don’t look

    Sometimes, when I look into your eyes, I can see what the problem is.

    There is something more in there, than just a pair of eyes.

    And there is something more in the way my eyes see yours.

    Something shines out bright, more than mere reflected light.

    And I know what it is. Can you see?


    Copyright Mark Manchester 2014

     
  7. Let’s put it behind us

    Reach out
    and
    touch,
    bridging
    the
    gap.

    Forget
    the
    past,
    forgive
    and
    smile.

    Laugh loud
    and
    grin,
    healing
    the
    hurt.


    Copyright Mark Manchester 2014

     
  8. Least expected

    Grey wisps of tiredness grow out of his face like heavy weeds, dragging his skin down into jowls that mask none of the years of hurt. He puckers those pallid cheeks into hollowness and pops the cigarette out with a timid flourish, holding blankly for a moment then unleashing the cloud as a deadened sigh.

    Rain patters and pops its dampness across Manchester’s paving stones once more as the louche figure leans out into the damp from under the bus stop’s sturdy, plastic protection. The sound of cars moving by, they come and go, come and go. A beeping here, a shout here, the rain, rain, rain.

    "Excuse me."


    Copyright Mark Manchester 2014

     
  9. Separation

    What poisoned us?
    Was it too much,
    for me?
    Or was it too hard,
    for you?
    Was it ambition?
    Was it competition?
    Or did Ian Curtis get it right again?
    And how,
    how was he so wise so young?


    Copyright Mark Manchester 2014

     
  10. Slide the door shut

    Most of us are
    poor substitutes
    for the real deal.
    Normal life,
    while the brain’s
    doing cartwheels.
    Fantasising,
    of the one true love.
    Who has never come along
    but who it did know once.

    We get so stressed
    about things with no
    heart, but the strings
    play on until they break;
    until they SNAP.
    And when the dam breaks,
    the truth comes rushing,
    But truth hurts you
    and you hurt the one
    you’ve been adoring.

    So stay true,
    just without being honest.
    At least not in the open
    where the whispers
    grow to forests.
    Let your mind breathe,
    but don’t let a gasp out;
    lest it tumbles like a wave
    from the spout of your mouth.
    Love.


    Copyright Mark Manchester 2014