From the musty antique shelf,
Shining its fake Hollywood smile,
It longed for the glamorous kiss of the spot light.
It ached to be touched -
Just a caress along the face -
Desperate to be held.

I stepped closer towards it,
And in a ****** of light,
Bright milky tears emerged,
Trickling across its hollow cheeks.
The shadow cast behind its body,
Mirrored dark thoughts that swirled within.

The porcelain shell was burdened,
With hundreds of shattered memories
Washed with rich tea scents,
That bore sharply into its core.
It longed for its companion,
That fit so perfectly in its heart.

But it failed to sell me its heart-felt story.
My attention drifted.
Its heart sank.
A fate left to a coating in dust.

Your hands are mirrors.
Hide your eyes behind them.
Welcomed with open arms to the world of vanity,
an arrogant grin peels open from your face.
Your background Ignored: a blurred oil painting, timed anti-clockwise.

There's a blot on the canvas -
care to repair?
The painting develops into a framed photo.
Love caught in a blinding flash.

The ink blot re-emerges,
the photo dribbles black tears.

Abusing Respect,
Your eyes undress wondrous possibilities,
Running away from a portrait, streaming thick droplets chase you.

Desperate to feel whole again?
You selfish little boy.
Memories scare you
you turn to your mirror for security.

As the clock hand turns faster,
your body will jolt
at the sound of ringing realisation.

You never realise what you have until you lose it.

Rolling around
Inside my head
Twisting and Turning
Etching a Path in my mind
Ideas dragging their feet.

They leave bedraggled footprints
which I can't rub away.

A smile drawn backwards.

My eyes bleed droplets,
Forced upon a sour image.

A smile wrenched open.

My head rolls.
My eyes blister.

I feel my senses sway with the soul of the song,
A beat aligned with my heart,
An instrumental playing for my attention,
its strength awakes me with a start.

A lyric in sync with a fragile mind,
Soft songs protected by a gentle smile
or vicious words dripping in venom,
provoking a flaming fury so heavy and vile.

Music is my transporter enriching me with a memory
it can be my boat, my tardis, my plane
I can fly with the rhythm, looking down at a moment
Nostalgia guiding me, standing proud and in vain.

I enjoy the feel of your skin ,
upon my skin
So creamy and silky,
like warm tea.

I drink you in,
the heat gently warms me to the core
I bathe in your glow,
which gently heats me to the core,
you caress my skin with golden kisses
which my skin quivers at the touch.

I curl around you like cat,
nestling against your chest,
purring with every stroke
eyes closed, I am at peace.

My hands roam across your body
I trace the contours of your back,
tingling with every touch.

My Gold.

I try to wipe that pretentious smirk off your face,
but it refuses to slide - how stubborn!
It merely slips and sinks even more deeply
into your square face.

Exchanging vocabulary, throwing words out like missiles.
I take every hit,
and note from swelling flames, the scent of your desperation that plays in the smoke.

Failure to sustain your act.
Puppy dog eyes miserably dissolve,
your grin sneaks a glance here and there.

It's time subtlety broke your megaphone.

A vicious circle
of idiotic vulnerability
that leaves me quaking with shame.

My head was at peace.
It trusted too easily,
until something ugly pierced my senses
with its knife of selfishness.

My brain is manipulated,
haunted by an echo of pain.



My Lucky Star
shoots across the sky,
just for me to bathe in his glow.
When the night's sky engulfs me
he shines,
just for me,
to help me find myself again.



The hideous thing, tears apart my mind
with its savage disease ridden hands.
It clumsily plants a seed of worry inside my head
and offers me a whisper laced with venom and printed with a smirk -
"What if your star falls?"

It's a ****.
No matter how hard I try to cut it back, it keeps growing.
Someone help me find the root?

The **** is relentless -
Questions tumble out of my mouth
The Star listens sadly,
his light fading with every tainted word.

I shy away.
I hide my face.
I brush away the tears.
But My brain cannot stop.

Help Me.