Snow is falling
window cold
to the touch

She is half my age
wearing nothing
but a crimson ribbon

Her foreign tongue
cartwheels between
broken English
and an old gypsy song

Her skin shines
like silk
by the fire light

She stands
hands pressed
against the glass

Eating chocolate
from an unpronounceable
Swedish village

I bath within
her beauty
especially
from behind …
Clay.M

We hoard thoughts
like coins
that burn the pocket—
the less we have,
the harder it is
to let go.

We treasure their shimmer,
but in the end,
the vault remains bare
of what we hoped
to find—
what we were led
to believe.

We gather—
each passing thought,
as a leaf in a stream
that never stops
flowing away.

I love sun-drenched afternoons when the world seems softer,

when people seem to be going about their day as usual,
but they seem more at peace.

when I can hear every sound around me,
but my mind feels silent.

when I'm walking towards my destination,
but I feel like I'm walking aimlessly in solace.

something so nostalgic, something so special, wish I could relish in this reverie forever.

A tear in her jeans was myopically, at the undercut
A similie for misunderstanding in the past
Ah what's relevant? Relevance picks at you like a giant human acne *******
Without acne
Terrible the things they do
But then they don't really involve us
So maybe they do have a heart
Loveless propaganda, nightclub fantasies, hospital bargains
Prison nightmares.
The soup of the day didn't look tasty
But it was adequate to the receiver.
Standard rules? Or exceptional exploitation?

Well I wouldn't call any exploitation above exceptional
So perhaps its just my life is an exception.
A discourse to I would call it anyway though.
Still been *****.
Still been tortured nearly every day of my life.
Still never trusted anyone.
And I hate myself for that last one.
Poonanny divinity.

Profiling peadophiles etc, is it the one with the *******?

'doubt it, has even cooked an egg this morning'

oh what, the-e trout!'

'give those bincoulars to me'

'so we're stuck in a cartoon are we?'

'yeah and no but the structure of its pretty much based on mud'

'like the way this towns run?'

'well i would say it picks a few people out yes.'

Waves wade
Washing our woes
You promised purposely
Pin pointed fingers
Nail in. Prise pride,
Apply pressure,

The weather of your storm
In the eye of your scorn
Forlorn dawn, dawned upon us
Swarmed by your tidal waves
Whipping us around the place
Sea bound, drowning in your gaze

Breathless beneath the taste
Of salted water ways...

Then the slaughter sways
Lonely daughter displayed

Doing my best, not to drown
In all the ways I was kept down
The theft of life, by your hands
A deathly price, a deadly stance
In this reverie, remember me
Because I'm bound, to forget everything
Switch off the depth of me...
Sick in this sea, lungs watered like a plant
Drink it in, let the ocean, have its demands
Sink in quicksand, while hauntings press
Into your soul and taunt the adept...
Inherited death by your hands
Destined to breathe out of breath.

My pastor told me:
This world’s as close to heaven as you’ll ever get
I don’t even care that he’s right
I’ve spent enough years begging the sky for answers
To know that clouds don’t speak
The one thing I know for certain
Is my demons are incredibly devoted
And the devil is more attentive than the angels

(TW: Self-Harm and Suicidal Ideation)

If you could see into the riot that is my mind
You would not begrudge me my knife
You would not withhold from me the ledge
Which I only cling to for your sake
Unsure if letting go would help or harm you
I’ve read the statistics
Would my departure bring about your ruin?
Or am I truly the baggage you are forced to carry
The burden you bear out of a sense of obligation
So I stay, forever uncertain
Indecision is not a comfort that is granted me

I happened to find
myself longing for
some kind of change
you were telling
me this in that little
cafe on the corner
your words fell softly
through the hum of
café conversations
your eyes were left
searching in a
maze of emotions
you wore a poets frown
that I could not ignore
there’s no easy way to say
there’s no easy way to grieve
somethings that you love
sometimes leave
the thread between us
now is broken …
Clay.M