As the stars creep out from the vast black ink,
your name I see written in a language with no words
and when it is time, for the light to swallow and drain

O that horrible bright masks all with blue and white.
your name remains, faint, and in most views gone
but my love shines a darkness, creating
my own night sky.

Your silent name will forever speak in my soul.
Even when all seems to be gone.
in the brightest of days, I will still see the stars
that forever sleep and wait for you.

It can't be real. Life. Love. Whatever. It turns its head with the slightest change in breath.
Makes it all seem irrelevant. Or relevant. Or both.
The specifics alter the hue.
The weather sets the tone.
The tears trickle down and out of the mess that made them.
I love him. No I don't. Yes. No. Maybe?
Doesn't exist.
Maybe...
Is it solitude I fear?
What fills my heart, empties my eyes.
What fills my mind jingles like loose change.
Using it when the small thing catches my attention.
What can I extract from this? How much juice can I drain from this blossomed thought?
This sparkly idea.
Colourful nothing.
Love never hurts. Not being allowed to love is agony.
Not being able to express it - torture.
Head first dives - cold water fills the nose and eyes.
I'm wrong. Most of the time.
Well, I'm not right. I lie mainly to myself.
And you sometimes. When reality jabs my side.
What's best for me? Who cares.
I have to go make dinner and read an article on happiness.

I don't know how to explain this life
if an alien came down and asked me
"whats it like to live?
I'd reply with something like
It depends
It depends on how you look at it
For example, take romance as a sample.
If I am adored and adorned with grace
then smiles inevitably creep upon the human face
but if I am alone and lonely too
I'll crawl around the inside of my skull
until I find something to latch on to.
I don't know, truth be told
You're born, you grow, you get old
Then into the dirt everyone will sink
Its pretty meaningless but
its life. I think.

If in your skin could I
climb into and have a word
An honest word
about what really matters
I would ask you...
                                                Does it hurt to love?
                                                And is it enough?
                                                Does it tear you apart
                                                knowing that I'm on the outside
                                                and you are on the inside
                                                and until we die
                                                we can't be as one?
Does it hurt to love?
to feel my lips so close
to collapse under my gaze
and know that you cannot
taste what I taste
or be more than your own reflection
of what I can see?
                                               Does it hurt to love?
                                               when you hold my hand
                                               and know that unless
                                               we both die right now
                                               we will one day
                                               Have to let go?
If so, then welcome home.

Fallen angles shake their heads
as my body drums against the
all too contained
cavity of expression.
Maddeningly, utterly in disarray
the mind stumbling
over the debris
left by the racing heart.
In a way, I hate you
but mostly me
for being at the mercy
of someone else's gaze.
God ******* ******,
**** ******* christ.
I want to pull my breath out
and bottle it up for a while
so I no longer have to breathe
this fire of unrest.

The sheets that smell of your face
That once told me
That I was beautiful
I lay often blinking
Away the tears
That well from your silent love
The way your nose touches my cheek
When you press against me
In the night
Tells me all the things that I want to hear out loud
I want you to scream them
I want you to feel them so burningly that the fire
On your teeth turns sweet
Its because I don’t understand love
I don’t really know what it is, so I keep looking
But I’m looking in the wrong places
I know where to look
but its scary there
Because it’s inside of me

And inside of me its dark
So dark in fact that even dark doesn’t exist
No light ever touched me
No sound has ever caressed me
No breeze has ever whispered upon anything but my skin
because inside me, there is a nothing.
And I say a nothing on purpose
Because there is an essence that cannot be defined
It cannot be touched or explained
Or even described
but its there, and it sits forever
It listens to the rain of emotions and thoughts
That batter against the windows of my eyes
It sits so deliciously still
So still that when I taste it
A fountain of gentle love flushes my spine
So that I feel far too pleasant
To be able to love you
Because If I loved you that much
If I covered you in all the nothing that
Rests attentively inside of me
I wouldn’t even have my nothing left.
It would just be you
Only you
And I would be your skin
holding you together
While giving you all the sensitivity
Of every nerve in the universe.

The beginning of the end,
my dearest friend,
how can I explain
that which I cannot comprehend?

These sensations calling themselves out,
Sight, sound, smell, taste, touch.
They all conspire against me,
to make me want too much.

All the while I lay in darkness
painting a coat of dream upon dream,
I cry and scream against myself,
searching for a light at the seam.

Its all a reflection, a mirage
the flickering of lights so blue,
but the closer I bring my hands
I lose the space between me and you.

We are all but an extended reaction
No raw meaning, just sign upon sign.
And our drawings we desperately analyze,
circles we call space and lines we call time.

I object to the objective,
I am desperately trying to see
How to be blind of sight,
and become reality.

The shower
water
of silken light,
caresess my face
my hands
my thighs.
The delicate warmth
of the sunshine
beam
escorts
out
the sweetened steam.
The dancing giggles
slowly
reveal
all that lingers
beneath the peel.
The naked
truth
that
what
I feel
is
undeniably,
ever blindingly,
- real.

It all became a void
as i fell backwards
endlessly
among the rocks that chimed
I told myself
"ive been here before"
and allowed myself to fall

It seemed to go on endlessly
tumbling, not breathing.
I was sure this was it
the end of something
but
just before the surrender
the moment of death
I faltered
I was afraid

The layer upon layer
that seemed to then become
a dream I could not wake from
kept running, fleeing.
Looking for the door
that has all the light
or dark

Even now, someone smirks
"you are still dreaming"
I laugh and agree
how would i know the difference?

The lips that seal,
seep no dirt.
The eyes that shut,
see no hurt.
The ears turned out,
hear no lies.
The hands laced back,
feel no flies.
The nose turned up,
smells no muck.
The fingers crossed,
avoid back luck.
The mind kept mute,
sleeps in bed.
What is left,
might as well be dead.

It seeps into my body like an invisible ink
following all the misleading signs of my mind.
I try not to listen to its absurdities
I try not to be afraid if they are true.
But I can’t help but wonder
Do they know something I don’t?

My logic often gets in the way,
constantly in disarray.
I beg my heart to listen to my head.
My head tells my heart to listen up good.
But my heart...

That cavity in my chest that brings me so much unrest.
It makes me cower in its power. It owns me
Something deep inside.
A force so abundant I struggle to hide.

It knows.
Everything.
I can feel it.
And is wrenching me apart.

Its not enough.
Doesn't fill my veins with the right kind of blood.
Its too thin,
Pleasures of this kind of life leave me slain.
I would rather have pain, intense pain.
Than this normal feeling.  

Life is not meant to be a stroll
but a panicked tumble into the unknown.
Full of wonders and delight and confusion
and well I don’t even know

I would love to open my eyes
Really really wide
See what is right in front of me.
What my heart can see and I now I bleed.

My hands caress a body that is controlled.
But inside lays such a storm.
It is scratching on the walls of my skin.
It sends messages through the breath going out and in.
It allows little whispers to flow through my heart to my head.

Unless you are totally alive then you are part dead.

Why do I choose to suffer my freedom?
   Is it familiarity? A self-created religion?

I bind myself, to myself, using my own hands.
  I struggle to look through my own fingers.

Is it because I can't see? Am I in a dream?
  Where is the edge? Where is the seam?

I pretend to be distressed and myself believe
  Its all I've ever known, the stories of someone.

I carry on, holding tight, writing more lies
  A twisted *******, an inversion of life.

I catch glimpses of release, the gaps in my hands
  Yet as soon as I forget, I go back in.

How can you fight something you've created?
  How destroy the already annihilated?

Nothing but questions, answers are worthless.
  Nothing makes sense, not even these verses.

eyes as eyes.
  hands as hands
touch so dry
  evidently bland
lips as simple
  as your reflection
obvious and transparent
  strenous affection
good as bad
  bad as worse
sweet as sour
  love as curse
walk away my dear
  while you still can
I'm the hourglass
  You're but a
grain of sand...

The darker it becomes
the more you open your eyes
only to see what you knew fade away.
Yet when there was light
you forced with all your might
to see nothing at all.

You come and you go
like a temperamental tide.
A slightest change in wind
you quickly retire.

Back within your darkness,
the stillness and the cold.
All for what reason?
A freedom so called?

As you pull back into your distance
I'm left to stand knee deep.
My dress dancing upon the surface
of the water you keep.

My arms drop to my sides
and my hair sticks to my lips.
The ones that you deserted,
the ones you could have kissed.

I don't cry for you.
I don’t bother to wave.
I was your choice to run
It was mine to stay.

As the moonlight draws my face
upon the black canvas of your night.
I stare in total awe.
In surrender.
You will not find me later.
In case you feel you were wrong.
For the same tides that saved you,
will wash my footprints gone.

Jump into that shattering window
Jump into that dark void
selectively pull out the finger nail
that remains stuck at the base of your spine
Pull the hair off the old troll doll
Until her eyes seem far to large, far to bright
The colours of the room allowed to merge
who gives a ****, its still full of light.
Beat the box against the wall,
watch it curve, the contrarious fall.
With you fingers, follow the lines
up the side and back of the spine
Then strip the pages, open and bare
Inhale the worlds lingering in there.
When the madness thickens the air
Laugh, cry, sing and die.
Don’t stop to wonder why.
Your palms are enough
Your own two hands can bare
To create whatever breathes in there.

What lies in your eyes
are the lies that I despise
doesn't come close
transparent as a politician
yet I still listen
in hope that my optimism
can twist it
into something I can believe.

Your smile can erase
every trace
of my abiding detestation
for something as smile
for a moment
for a while.

I trust the haze I feel
the curtains which in my heart
only absorb the light
in my mind
I know there is only the devastation
of your cold night.

Wavers it does,
sanity.
It's not so secure,
no.
The spaces between,
the going and the went.
Elongate
sometimes.

Trembles and expands,
the light
in all things.
Stretching my mind
to its limits,
where logic
withers.

Fear saluted at first
the go to
when things are new.
But actually,
this trickling mess
of unknowningness
allows me
to be.

A smile is so much more
than a curvature of the lips
Its a smell that emits
from the breath of a kiss
Its the sound of joy
behind the cryptic face
that remains perfectly still
and yet watches you with grace
Its the movement of the thumb
across the knuckles of a lover
Its the gentlest of touches
of one nose against another
Its in the stolen glances
That escape the attention of the other
As they lace up their shoes
and talk about their brother
Its everything that you embody
and everything that you miss
When you realise
that you want all of this.

Tree leaves shake, dancing for my eyes.
Many trees have come
before and will come
after
the most beautiful leaves have fallen
from the one in my kitchen window.

All the winters that have been and gone
taint nothing about
this particular
one
as it blows across the skylight
of my tiny, windowless room.

So why do I pine inside
to be special within
to be the only light
shining upon
your eyes
as they happen to focus on my body
tracing my face in the lamp's shade.

Like the winters, I have come
blowing across your dimmed sun
not the first
may not even be
the last
but I am here, now. With you.
in this room with too many small cupboards
and the smell of a growing familiarity.

Kiss me or not, its sort of just fine.
I want to call you twice a day
sometimes you don’t talk very much
I linger so you will see my good side
but I often forget
that you can see me.

Inside me there's a little world
it touches yours by a little door
of words and touch
I miss you when you shower
or when you dream
but missing you is just fine.

All the filler words are kind of funny
when you line them up.
None of it really matters
its just for fun. Weird fun.

In the end, if you see yourself,
the way that I see you
A beautiful living being
then kiss someone else I don’t mind.
Its worth it.

I decided that it was time.
It’s as simple as that
just closed my eyes.
It was dark.

The thoughts that intruded
seemed but a hum
just closed my mind
it was strange.

With full conviction
I walked out of myself.
just around my room
until I was ready.

The dream had begun
the halls flicked with mist
I inched in anticipation
to the front door.

The door revealed
or was it my mind?
A purple world
my coloured canvas.

I chose to make the sun rise
but found it to dim
so I rose another, his brother
and exploded him.

The light shattered me
my heart in awe
Knowing without a doubt
I created what I saw.

My blood flows with gold
my fingers alight with fire
it propels and consumes me
to an all encompassing desire.
Completely in the wind,
utterly in the rain
A sweet abandonment
into the delightful pain.
My skin - too tight
My movements - too constrained
Even a bellow from a mountain top
leaves this feeling untamed
A power so wild
so ferocious, yet so compressed
wails at the boundaries
of the unexpressed.

I can't stand this nonsense, this indifference  
this moat around the edge of my sight. My life.
I can't stand this overindulgence,
this unfettered decadence,
while the rest of the world isn't even given the privilege of weeping.
Of sleeping.
Of light.  
Insistingly,
I can't sleep - my dreams too a world without dreams.
An unfiltered montage of my insecurities playing out the reality I feel behind the forced optimism. The fanaticism,
for the smoothly ironed pressed.
Life.
I call out my own name -
behind the darkened and forgotten windowpane,
is the version of myself, angry, lonely and free.
Free of the freedoms that suffocate me.
Apparently I'm free to choose my fate,
my desk, my jacket, my dinner plate.
Yet where is the queue for self-expression?
For social justice? For unadulterated streams?
I am waiting, and getting rather impatient
with this facade
that we call 'the way it is.'

Sometimes you forget
that the window is
reflective
and you impose yourself
on to the world.
A gentle reminder,
of your own disposition,
and the way that it
escorts the sunlight
to your thoughts.
Your exuberant leaps
of elation
fling the curtains
open wide.
Yet your deep sighs
of exasperation
confuse the image
on both sides.

Its rewindable you know
time.
You've been fed lies.
You want to know how?
It takes time.

First, decide whether
you really know
what it is?
Then once you do
go back
and think some more

you will realise
its nothing more
than a measure
of change
and you want to change
that change

well then, logically.
whatever you change now
is changing
what happened then
What? no!

maybe?
How do you know?

Expression does not conjure what is needed
the delicacy of what I feel cannot be sown
the thread too light, the light too bright
what I know, I fear cannot be known

The tender flowing of you to me
that channelling, that freedom of being
only in your presence can I not suffer myself
For I only see you and nothing else.

It carries me through an underworld of sorrow
And spits me out onto a plane made of grass
Here I look up into a night full of light
And breathe a song into my heart

All this wonder, all these eyes
How could I stop at just one?
In my centre, I yearn for permission
To love so many, as many as will fit

What I never realised until this moment
Is that its vast and endless
I can love you all, more intensely than just one
I need to love you all, or become undone.

Come the time,
Come the time,
It all makes sense
In that finite line.

Is it really that tomorrow never comes,
when have you last experienced today?
we are living in a historical prediction,
one with constant revision,
and relatively blunt precision.

If you choose to discard all that which you have marred,
smudge with thumb into a softer shade,
standing back and admire your piece,
knowing such things helps men die in peace.
ahhh that final fade…
Come the time,
Come the time,
It all made sense,
All is me that is mine.

The temptation to desire,
the desire to abstain.
Fuelling all that burns,
I Must win the game!

Goes the time,
Goes the time
All I made is cents.

All that I have, eats me now.
wraps its lustful tongue
around my dusty neck
living out the rest in goodwill.
Now is the time,
Now is the time,

Now is time!
Now is time!

STOP

I have mentioned to you so many times, how you fail to see.
Looking between the slithered light, between the sheets - you lie and wait incessantly for permission to live.
It frustrates me to no end how you choose to forsake your strength,
for a couple of nice words from the world
for a couple of smiles from the rest.
Inside your belly, stroms forever brew.
Blowing around your mind to no end.
You contain all the power and glory inside yourself
turning nectar into posiion.
Now you lie there- feeling sorry for yourself
Wallowing in your pathetic trance
Forever using the victim card - to escape what is essentially your mess.
I am sick of dealing with your passivity, your submissive - weakling tune.
I want to shake you, corner you and show my teeth
Until you finally allow your power to come over you,,
You are not sweet - you are not kind - you are not passive and you're most certainly are not blind.
You are a fire living in the dark mind of a frightened sheep.

it forever stills within the quill
the quill that never inks what will
making sense only confuses
for those who aren't looking for the thrill

my words wont shine within your light
your light is made of a delicate fight
once broken the words unspoken
will fill your blood with explosive delight

carry me now to your place, your home
I wont listen to your metronome
forgetting the tea filled with nicety
and lets dance until we are overthrown

in all your life, that bubbles in you now
age moving eyebrows into a frown
hold the tiny hand that stumbled onto this land
and walk yourself back into the unbound