Happiness is a bag of liquorice, a bar of chocolate, sparkling water and watching 24  on TV- long live King Jack…More please of all of the above.

What is it about a man who is deadly, dangerous, and manages to save the world, all in 24 hours?

Must be something to do with the steely, unflinching glint in his eyes, and the way he holds his gun with such determination. I am on an adrenaline high just watching him, oops and the rest of 24…

I am good, but sometimes I long to be bad. I want to take that damn halo and hide it deep in the shores of innocence. So tonight I cast away that shroud of white, cool linen; and dressed in the deepest red velvet that I could find, I prepare myself. My sweet angel sleeps, he doesn’t know the truth of me. But I hear the tap, tap of my devilish, demon calling. Hurry he says, I hear the steady fall of the silver stick he carries, as it beats its steady rhythm. His impatience is strong.

Before I go, I spin a delicate net of sleep over my sleeping angel, and watch as he is taken below the depths of slumber. I kiss him gently, so not to disturb him, I tell him I love him, but I have to go. My own halo I place beside him. ‘It’s temporary my love’ I whisper, as I take my heart and place that beside the halo. My soul I wrap, I seal it, it’s safe. But the tap, tap reminds me, my demon awaits me, and he will only wait for a brief moment.

I close my eyes, and think myself far from here, I open them and I am there. This is a place of heat, and fire, and surrounded by endless waters that never extinguish the flame. I sigh, he is here. He is angelic looking, fair hair, blue eyes, and slender of limbs. But beneath his gentle appearance lies a personality, and presence that is dark as sin. He smiles, and from far away I hear my heart stop.

‘Shall we dance?’ he says. I hear the music, it wraps itself around me, and I move, sensuous and sinuously until I am before him. I move slowly, my hips circle, he moves his hands and I follow the patterns he spins. He should be dark, and dangerous looking, but he is not. Appearances belie the truth. The music changes, my feet feel its beat, they wish to dance, but he says not yet.

He takes my hands, pulls me close, his fire absorbs me. I am one with the heat, the pulse of its flame. I am ready now, for a brief second I look back and think of purity, of goodness, of tedium and faith. I feel the reach of my sweet angel, he sleeps but something causes him to cry out, to reach with his hand, but then I am gone, I am at one with danger, heat, passion and the deep, endless sea.

Take me to heaven, but on the way, lets have a little detour to hell. I can hardly wait, anticipation causing an excess of delightful thrill. Light and dark, bright and dim, who cares as long as I taste sips from the well of both springs. Who knows which will be hot, and which will cool, I suspect one will have sensations of the perfection of both and the other will be a limitless absorption of it all.

Halo’s are all well and good, but how do you know if it fits you? if you have never tried its reverse side. So I took a chance and today I met an angel from above, and one from below. I held hands with them both and together we danced the tango.  I couldn’t work out which angel was from where. So by thought and the sense of feeling, I touched you both- and dreamed of the things I had yet to dare.

He is my friend, my confidant, my truth seeker, my lover, my tormentor, my life.

He guides, he shows, he instils, he pushes, he shoves, he grinds, he helps my life.

He laughs, he tickles, he teases, he stresses, he is wise, he is impatient, he fills my life.

He is light, he is dark, he colours, he fades, he reminds, he is the one who could break my life.

He is mine, he isn’t, he is gentle, he is kind, he seethes, he is cruel, he causes the turns of my life.

Sometimes though it would be nice,  if he had the sensitivity and sweetness of a pink, sugar filled mouse.

Cruel life, vivid and sharp, with far reaching fingers you tear at my pain filled heart.

It hurts, I cry, tears fall. I hear whispers of shame. I'm twisted inside with this torment of fate.

Its blue today, I feel its fall and I long for those days of numb filled grey.

I don’t fear life, or things that could be, I mourn today for that which is taken away.

Highly charged, colour taints the way my empty voice has no say.

Deep, dark and sickly opaque, it plagues my fragile mind.

I need to breathe hard, to weep until It no longer has power to stay.

Pink it should be, but instead Its heart-wrenching blue ripped from endless grey.

Grief is hard, my soul is scraped.

Holding it close I absorb its cold shimmering tinge of an ice-white hue.

For sake of sanity I have to let go. Break its ice, melt its power that cuts with such clarity.

A soft, gentle cloud of pale blue enfolds me, it absorbs tears and hard, hate filled pain.

My grief remains, its birth through grey and blue, tendered with hope, time will soothe it for today.

Colours and thoughts are emotions that no longer have a say.

Used to forget Life’s strands that tangle and torment as they achingly portray.

I stand, I stumble, I fall. It hurts so I stay there, comforted  by inertia. If I move, if I think of all those ifs- I will remain there.

It is more than safe, not quite comfort, not quite living but it is enough for today.

Shut up, be quiet. I close my ears I would rather be deaf. My eyes refuse to open, I am stubborn- I hear you though.

With soft voice you poke and prod, your hand takes mine, your eyes capture mine- I cannot help but see.

With dust covered sheen, a blanket of grey, you take my hand and push it all away.

Don’t give me rhyme or reason, don’t tell me it’s ok. I push you away, but then beg you to stay.

The crumbs of my life remain, the pieces all there, a nudge, a shove and the picture falls into place.

A new dawn, a blind mans dream, the strands of the day -a remnant of my own decay.