WE
ARE
OVER.
I'm done with you. The sick strings that joined us
destroyed us.
Destroyed, ate away at you.
Tuesday, 20 December 2011
Sunday, 27 November 2011
Throbbing
Double lined skin.
Somewhere between sleeps
Truth.
Bolted
and blinded.
Moving heavily through.
A sophisticated plot
of betrayal and disguise
for this
monster.
Leaving you
throbbing with pain.
The lies continue.
The hate remains.
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Something I heard somewhere and shamefully liked
I wish that without me your heart would break.
I wish that without me you'd be spending
the rest of your nights awake.
I wish that without me you couldn't eat.
I wish I was the last thing
on your mind before you went to sleep.
Monday, 27 June 2011
Friday, 1 April 2011
Set fire
Working.
Trying to get on with my life.
And all I can feel is you're eyes burning; waiting for me.
To come and play with you.
Bitter and angry it makes me, pushing you away with frowns and sharp dicing words.
When all I want to do. Is sit here by the window. Staring at the flakes of blossom drifting off the trees in the back garden.
Time.
To myself.
Sitting watching nature unfold and say hello.
Trying to get on with my life.
And all I can feel is you're eyes burning; waiting for me.
To come and play with you.
Bitter and angry it makes me, pushing you away with frowns and sharp dicing words.
When all I want to do. Is sit here by the window. Staring at the flakes of blossom drifting off the trees in the back garden.
Time.
To myself.
Sitting watching nature unfold and say hello.
Another Summer
I've left you to you're own demise.
You're ruin and
waste,
even you cannot
disguise.
It pains me to see you
go
down
deep
below.
Into the grasps
of a past life.
Full.
Of toxins and rife.
But you had to
go.
LEAVE.
Try to grow.
I love you still.
From you're fate I
could not save.
Only, now
you have to be brave.
You're ruin and
waste,
even you cannot
disguise.
It pains me to see you
go
down
deep
below.
Into the grasps
of a past life.
Full.
Of toxins and rife.
But you had to
go.
LEAVE.
Try to grow.
I love you still.
From you're fate I
could not save.
Only, now
you have to be brave.
Monday, 10 January 2011
Everything
When she sits with a coffee in her hand and wonders what is left.
She see's everything.
Wanting of nothing. Need now a dusty pastime to her.
She see's everything.
Pot's of golden memories and promise circle her.
She see's everything.
Decadence and desire met effortlessly into her hands of grace.
She see's everything.
She wants to fly. Set flight.
She wants to buy. Steady feet.
She wants to hide. Here; seat.
She see's everything.
A creature once of the sea, land and night. Global, nationwide sight.
She see's everything.
A beauty.
A brain.
A girl.
She has everything.
She see's everything.
Wanting of nothing. Need now a dusty pastime to her.
She see's everything.
Pot's of golden memories and promise circle her.
She see's everything.
Decadence and desire met effortlessly into her hands of grace.
She see's everything.
She wants to fly. Set flight.
She wants to buy. Steady feet.
She wants to hide. Here; seat.
She see's everything.
A creature once of the sea, land and night. Global, nationwide sight.
She see's everything.
A beauty.
A brain.
A girl.
She has everything.
Saturday, 8 January 2011
A feeling. A nudge.
A crush,
a fling,
a faux feeling.
Like, desire, lust,
a satan thing.
A crack
shows itself.
Questions arise,
sugared answers
cannot disguise.
Crunch time
comes.
Lost and disgraced,
we turn to the
crumbs.
A break.
Our heart he did
not take.
a fling,
a faux feeling.
Like, desire, lust,
a satan thing.
A crack
shows itself.
Questions arise,
sugared answers
cannot disguise.
Crunch time
comes.
Lost and disgraced,
we turn to the
crumbs.
A break.
Our heart he did
not take.
Friday, 7 January 2011
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
Welcome shadow
Above your towering shadow,
I peer.
I feel safe under your darkness.
No fear
Of being a nobody on my own.
Much preferring,
to be your malnourished clone.
To you,
so beautiful and vibrant,
the centre of everyones
que.
The social butterfly in every
way.
The men who dare to fall for you
simply
gravely
pay.
Behind you a path of broken
hearts.
From them, I learnt you could never
part.
The hurt your glowing smile
and cheeky flirt gave.
Resulting these men to isolation in a
faraway cave.
Still they never learn.
For your charm and lure,
they only yurn.
In your shadow I see.
A beauty.
A class.
A coy
lost invisible girl.
Someone I no longer want
to be.
I peer.
I feel safe under your darkness.
No fear
Of being a nobody on my own.
Much preferring,
to be your malnourished clone.
To you,
so beautiful and vibrant,
the centre of everyones
que.
The social butterfly in every
way.
The men who dare to fall for you
simply
gravely
pay.
Behind you a path of broken
hearts.
From them, I learnt you could never
part.
The hurt your glowing smile
and cheeky flirt gave.
Resulting these men to isolation in a
faraway cave.
Still they never learn.
For your charm and lure,
they only yurn.
In your shadow I see.
A beauty.
A class.
A coy
lost invisible girl.
Someone I no longer want
to be.
Grief
Decorate you're bedroom.
Change the che.
On rotation you fiddle with
and replace things.
Removing the new replacing
with the old.
But still it never fits.
An inch or a mile
out.
You push and you tug.
Desperate for it to
work.
Pushing harder and harder
breaking a sweat.
Over a past identity never
kept.
Change the che.
On rotation you fiddle with
and replace things.
Removing the new replacing
with the old.
But still it never fits.
An inch or a mile
out.
You push and you tug.
Desperate for it to
work.
Pushing harder and harder
breaking a sweat.
Over a past identity never
kept.
Desire
I see you gazing out
of the gate in desire.
Out of love,
your pain and need tire.
And you come to me.
Content and sighing.
Me and you
in hiding.
of the gate in desire.
Out of love,
your pain and need tire.
And you come to me.
Content and sighing.
Me and you
in hiding.
Wednesday, 15 December 2010
You're not the nice guy I thought you were.
Snogging her.
Drunk and off your face with success.
Who could want any less.
I wanted to be different. The one to make
you think. Give me a wink.
I heard all the stories of your ladies. With the
hope they didn't end in babies.
I want to still be with you. Help and inspire
you.
Older and wiser I hope you see.
All the promise and hope that is good for you
from me.
xoxo
Snogging her.
Drunk and off your face with success.
Who could want any less.
I wanted to be different. The one to make
you think. Give me a wink.
I heard all the stories of your ladies. With the
hope they didn't end in babies.
I want to still be with you. Help and inspire
you.
Older and wiser I hope you see.
All the promise and hope that is good for you
from me.
xoxo
On the train home. After seeing some
old faces with new love. I see in the
window. The reflection of the man sat
opposite me.
Clad in an old rocker t-shirt with
matching leather waistcoat and knee
high pirate boots.
Arms drawn in front of him lying limp.
Until a tune grabs them and hurls them
into action. Waving and swirling along
to admirable lip syncing.
All those in the carriage can hear old
school rockabilly thudding out of his
dated earphones. None complain.
Especially me. It's helping my hours dwindle
floating around his lung cancer odour.
A can of stella now safely clasped in one hand.
He mimes "What's going on". A passionate
tribute to his dusty i-pod spread on the table.
I sit back enjoying this mad man's
company. His Bravery.
Yes. The phone he checks regularly and ignores
the calls of. And the steady skipping at the shock
of an unfamiliar track. May suggest these articles
may in fact belong to someone else. A more
respectable mirror of his happy self.
But no. I think he's the real deal. The
head banging denim and leather wearing
golden oldie.
So now I sit here. Jealous as hell.
Look at him. Having a ball.
My little drunk pirate rockabilly.
Play on.
old faces with new love. I see in the
window. The reflection of the man sat
opposite me.
Clad in an old rocker t-shirt with
matching leather waistcoat and knee
high pirate boots.
Arms drawn in front of him lying limp.
Until a tune grabs them and hurls them
into action. Waving and swirling along
to admirable lip syncing.
All those in the carriage can hear old
school rockabilly thudding out of his
dated earphones. None complain.
Especially me. It's helping my hours dwindle
floating around his lung cancer odour.
A can of stella now safely clasped in one hand.
He mimes "What's going on". A passionate
tribute to his dusty i-pod spread on the table.
I sit back enjoying this mad man's
company. His Bravery.
Yes. The phone he checks regularly and ignores
the calls of. And the steady skipping at the shock
of an unfamiliar track. May suggest these articles
may in fact belong to someone else. A more
respectable mirror of his happy self.
But no. I think he's the real deal. The
head banging denim and leather wearing
golden oldie.
So now I sit here. Jealous as hell.
Look at him. Having a ball.
My little drunk pirate rockabilly.
Play on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)





