There's a deep, hollow feeling within my chest.
Do I have a heart at all?
Perhaps I used to but
I feel it has since been stolen from me
and locked away in a distant cave,
it shall never see daylight again.
I will exist in this empty shell
without leaving any trace behind me.
Do not try to help me, change me or love me.
I am beyond recovery now.
Leave me be
and I shall be content
to fade away.

By Dallas Clayton

My Writing

I think I treat my writing like artists treat their doodles. My poetry is never planned, none of my writing is for that matter, I just allow myself to spill whatever happens to be in my head at the time.

Child

I peered down at his gentle body
lying still on his wooden bed.
Oh, how peaceful he looked, with his mouth slightly open,
his tender eyelids closed over those big blue eyes
that I could get lost in for hours.
And that wonderful smile of his - the kind that only a child can have.
He would run and dance for hours
spinning around me in perfect twirls.
I longed to hear his fearless laugh and hold his hand
Once more
But as they close the lid of his coffin
I know I must let go and let his fingers slip away.

Anything For You

I'd smear my heart across this sheet of paper, bleed my love on every line.
I'd spill all these feelings inside me, all the truths I long to tell.
It wouldn't be enough for you
so I'll write them somewhere else instead.

Unveiling

I want to undress before you,
remove the mask from my pale face.
I'll lay the pieces around you,
with dignity and grace.

I can't bear to witness reaction
when you glance upon my skin
without any form of covering:
vulnerable, weak and thin.

I need to shed my layers,
lay naked by your side.
I need to reveal everything,
I have nothing left to hide.

Dissection

I give to you myself;
my flesh, my blood, my soul.
I place them down before you;
each pulse, each breath, each scar.
I hold back no emotion,
just ask and it is yours.
I give to you my life,
make of it what you will.

Predator

He sees her:
The prey, the target.
Their eyes lock;
blue hollowed caves in the distance.
She turns her back and fumbles around for her money.
Her paper hands flutter in apprehension.
His own hands of steel come up at her side.
'Let's go honey. The kids are waiting.'
As always, she complies.