Thumbing the pulse of the overkill

The backbeat to our times

Stunning the false with freewill

On the backseat of a lie

Standing alone with patience

Trying not to die

Modelled by the gracious

Overwhelmed and shy

Leased out to the highest bidder for stories based on truth, told by the newest stranger from the loneliest book, eased myself close to get a better view inside a room with no door or no windows too.

Shelves  hold the books I've never read  

I wade through the air I bite at to breathe

The legs you see, not sure they belong to me

Hands that wave


Things don't fill
They empty
They're  put in hands that wave carried by legs that aren't mine just because.

Unexpected tomorrow I know the rain will fall.

Reflected in the sorrow as I call and call.

Career lover unraveled by the belle with boots, still

I remain a nail in the wall and I can see my hook.

The moon, partially obscured by the bars of my cell, is full.

The haze from the city lights scare the stars away.

Perhaps they're as afraid as I am of this world.

Are you relieved to be normal?? It's something only you see.

Wasting away with a false impression we're all as strange as can be

I take some consolation as light reflects differently before passing my eyes and disguising inside mistaken identity

Spooked by our shadows safer with backs against trees

Wandering hopeful in vast space kicking round autumn leaves

Vanish like Houdini chained in a box at the bottom of the sea.

Just like smoke through every vent caught by any breeze



I think a part of everyone resides somewhere else

The 21 grams we lose in death

We've all wondered what it was in the corner of our eye

Maybe you looking back at you now you've died

Say there was no answer just questions?

Would we stop looking for them in the bottom of glasses?

Something seems strange but I'm not sure

It's not a disease there is no cure

It's not a house of cards or castles made of sand

But a poisonous web spun by delinquent human hand

Sunny days and weekend stays in places far from home

Meet the locals to say goodbye before you've even said hello

Leaves in trees so eager for a breeze to fall

This is no life at all.



Its one or two things that remind me it's a game

The tedium like nails at scabs and the blood it'll bring


A slice of lemon is all I need to add a little colour.

Perhaps a banksy on my garden wall.

Having a door held for me.

Strawberries for breakfast.

Punctuality.  

Four feet at the foot of my bed.

Not waking contemplating regret.

Sun on my face

Sand in my shoes

A different kind of saltwater kisses.

Grandstand welcomes from close friends.

Tearful goodbyes everytime.

The magic must happen when I blink or during the blackouts when I drink.