Him

He lies as though he is
In the comforting folds of sleep,
But I see his eyes are open
And they wait for eternity.

Heartburn

There is no escape.
When what breaks silence is silence,
And your loudest cries are never heard,
And they come from within :
Where there is ravaging and destruction,
Tears, blood and endless spots
Of blackness undefined
Tinged by a forgotten red of scraped knees,
Wounded heads and more.
Where you find that realisation
That there is no one.
No one to hold out a hand
To say that they understand
When they are in a war of their own.
And one puff of that repulsive smoke
That clears the mind feels like rot in my soul.