so I surrounded myself with stuff
it made me feel better
worthy, an achiever
bolstering my confidence
stuff came through the post
parcels to open everyday
it was like Christmas
stuff was in shops
where people were happy
to help spend my money
it was like they were jealous
wanting to live through me
getting the stuff they wanted
but I was paying
then I began to worship stuff
exclusive stuff
one of a kind stuff
then I woke up
literally opened my eyes
and saw all this ****
how I had coveted it
no friends, no relationship
no emotion, no soul
I was effectively dead
some Egyptian mummy
preserved in a living tomb
full of all all the ****
I'd need in the afterlife
because I had no time
to appreciate it all now
so I sold my ****
to people who were like me
and I looked at them
slavering over my old ****
and I hated them
like seeing my image in a mirror
they were so pleased
carrying off their prizes
not realising it was all cursed
they never owned anything
just stuff someone would
someday
prize from their cold dead fingers

i would like my flannel back
but i don't know how to ask for it
and i really don't want to talk to you
but in my head i know that means
you've won
in a way i really don't want you to win

can you give me back my copy of Paper Towns
i know you didn't read it, but i don't care anymore
if you read it, maybe you'd love me
or maybe it's the opposite, and maybe if you loved me
you would have read it
but i don't have the time to think like that anymore

what i really want back is the two years i spent on you
treating you like a droplet of tortured heaven
giving you all of me to fill the cracks in your heart
but the real cracks were in your head
for letting me give you everything, and never giving back
you didn't even say thank you

but i'd settle for the book and the flannel

Oh, hear me,
the humming cloud
is raining down.
Am I about to get back
my ears?

My long missed Saqi
gone to fetch the sea.
I say come your one
signature drop is enough.
Keeps the cloud afloat and intact
above the sea high enough.
Down to a parched Earth then
pour down some raw stuff
some zero sugar marshmallow fluff.

I can keep it all to myself
the things you said to me
the things you did
it's mine forever
it's mine alone
the things I wish I did
the things I wish I said
I should have put a bullet
in your pretty little head
I can keep it all to myself
the things I said to you
the things I did
the things I thought
it's mine forever
it's mine alone

Instagram was a graveyard
of memories that came to pass
until
my ex shared a picture of our son
on the backseat of his car
with their hands touching
whoever "he" is
I wonder if he knows
all the nasty **** you love to do
the ****** up thoughts you keep
the thoughts that keep you
so very far away from me

Now Instagram is a nightmare
a collage of everything
that makes me sick to breathe
it's where my dreams died
and reanimated
as someone else's
and that's ok because
in a way
they are still mine forever
his and mine alone

If we ever touched again
that would be
our very own cosmic Hiroshima **** up
I wonder how many souls we'd stamp out?
I wonder how many dreams would die?
mine are at the forefront of my mind
the dreams I had of us together
as the happiest three man band
the world has never seen

you leave.
i wake up and you're gone.
you leave like how your kisses fade away on my clavicle.
you leave like the roses that slowly waste from june to
september.
you leave like you can't wait to.
you leave like there's nothing better in the world.