I’m tired of living this tired way
I’m tired of being too tired to play
I’m tired of alway being the man that’s grey
I’m tired of not saying what I need to say
I’m tired of having to survive another day
I’m tired of always being the one to pay
I’m tired of being just okay, okay

I’m tired of these long nights
I’m tired of these tiring non stop flights
I’m tired of the scribbles and weak writes
I’m tired of fighting other people’s fights
I’m tired of climbing these never ending heights
I’m tired of not making the wrongs rights
I’m tired of these same sights


I’m tired of being nowhere on my own
I’m tired of being a voice on the end of the phone
I’m tired to the bone
I’m tired of being the great unknown
I’m tired of being the last to be shown
I’m tired of sitting on this dark throne
I’m tired of only catching what I’m thrown
I’m tired of carrying this tomb stone
I’m tired of hearing it groan and moan

I’m tired and I’m running alone
I’m tired, but I’m running for home

So this is heaven,
So this is hell,
So this is love,
Who can tell.

I never claimed to be bulletproof,
You see, you created this tiny wound that entered my heart,
Blew the whole thing to hell,
Then, as if in slow motion my world fell apart.
I never claimed to be bulletproof
I just hid the exit scar well.

I've started to peel off my skin,
Just to see if there's anything within,
I've sharpened my knife,
And carved a small slice,
Making sure that it wasn't too thin,

I slowly continued to peel,
Knowing that this wouldn't heal,
But I just didn't care,
I kept on with the pare,
I had to make sure it was real,

I'm tearing my muscles apart,
A bloodied and moving piece of art,
Then just under my breast,
I pull my hand from my chest,
All this just to give you my heart.

Such a tender beautiful thing until
It all falls apart,
Such an all encompassing love until you’re left with nothing but a broken heart,
And you think you know devastation when your one true love leaves,
But it’s not the same as the pain of one whose love grieves,
Try telling them why you sit by their bedside and cry,
Or what you mean by “I’m not ready to say goodbye”,
Then it’s you asking why, as a downpour of tears fall like raindrops,
There, right there. That’s the feeling. That’s when the pain drops,

The journey wasn't what I expected. I was lonely and had no idea where I was going.
After a while I began to hear footsteps behind me.
The further I walked, the closer they got.
Eventually I spun around sharply, and there she was, the most beautiful creature I'd ever set eyes on.
We just stared at each other, for the longest time. "Are you following me?" I asked.
She smiled and nodded.
I rolled my eyes, turned, and walked some more.
Inside I was glad of the company.
The journey was better for it.
But it wasn't long before I began to feel guilty. I couldn't let her follow me. I had no idea where I was, or where I was going.
So, reluctantly, I stopped, and turned to look at her.
Those eyes and that smile, beaming back at me. They lit me up. "Listen," I said "There's no point following me, I'm lost too you know".
"Oh, I'm not lost," she said with a very matter of fact tone, "I'm following You."
"But I'm lost!" I reiterated. "Then follow me," She continued "we can be lost together.
We walked the rest of our days together. Just talking, living, and loving.
Eventually we were tired and our journey was nearing its end. We sat together, then we lay together, staring up at the bluest of skies.
I took this moment to ask her,
"Why did you follow me that day? There were thousands of others. You could have followed any of them."
"Oh no," she said shaking her head, "I'd had a "Them"before ,  I always found them lacking.
But I'd never had a "you" before.
And Oh WOW! You were such a You!
I love Yous!
Not all of them.
Just you.
I love you.
With every breath we got closer, until I was breathing out as she was breathing in.
I closed my eyes.
This is how we lived and died.

Love’s spring bud falls as an autumn leaf,
Sinking into the murky soil that is life,
Its  remnants left rotting, to be soaked in, nourishing a new love,
Why can’t the sun shine through this haze of mediocrity,
Where have all those beautiful weeds gone.
If my soul doesn’t freeze, maybe this one will flourish,
Maybe.

Hey pretty girl, won't you lift up your chin,
Put your monsters away and please let me in,
I won't break your heart, I wouldn't know where to begin,
Take your last breath and hear what I say.

Let your heart strings unfurl, and I'll bind them to mine,
And they'll beat a strange beat, as they now intertwine,
Close your eyes pretty girl, I'll make everything fine,
For I am Death, here to take you away.

All this land between us,
Seems out of place and strange, it isn't right,
No tender touch, or kisses soft,
In the darkness of another empty night.

We shouldn't be apart,
We share the same soul you and I,
But there's nothing to be done,
But count the days, the hours, the minutes, the seconds, slowly ticking by,

A sallow moon glows down on me,
As I look up to his empty face,
Wondering if you see him too,
As you lie there in your lonely distant place,

I blow a kiss at this sallow moon,
And think of all the times I've shared with you,
Hoping you might glance up,
Catch the kiss, and think of those times too

Remember back when,
Our lives stretched before us,
Do you remember back then.
The road didn't end, there wasn't ever a bend,
And we didn't need to pretend.
Because then it was real,
It was smooth, you could feel,
Every stone on your wheel, every nail in your heal,
But we started to veer,
As our ending got near,
If we could just have kept going, if we'd started to steer.
But there's chunks missing now, and there's yellow bricks strewn,
All over our road, and it's all gone to ruin.

God I missed you,
I missed you and I don’t know why,
But don’t you worry my love,
Just let me reload,
And this time you’ll die.

Die fame, tarnish money, blaze glory,
No parting marble obelisk is sought,
Rests simple man, with un-convoluted story,
No ceremony filled with black, just thought,

If one endowes glad tears or crescent lips,
In journey towards a favoured ancient land,
On thoughts sunk deep and ever sharpened quips,
There, scatter wildflowers with my mind in hand.

You were right there, by my side,
Through everything,
Except losing you.

The shadows in the poets graveyards,
Are constructed from the littered scraps of good intentions.

Just short of the Moon

Think back sweetheart, to those awkward first glances
Whispering lust and taken last chances
Deciding if this was to be what romance is

Yes, there were cuts and some open sores,
Echoing insults and loud banging doors,
Then shattering glass adorning the floors,

But then, when the love, the REAL had begun,
Nothing could describe this love we'd become,
We were playing with hearts that we'd already won,

Both soaring so high in our own glass balloon,
Alas, we never quite made it to the moon,
Why did forever have to end so soon.

2 hearts (preferably unbroken)
Equal measures of lust and passion
A lot of talking
1 part chivalry
1 part care
2 equal part of understanding
An abundance of listening
Plenty of respect
The smallest pinch of jealousy (too much will spoil the mix)


Gently blend the two hearts together long enough to know that they won't separate.
Sit and watch the love rise.

WARNING
Always beware of cross contamination.
Adding another heart (unless very very small) will ruin the mix.

There’s smoke beneath her paper skin,
It masks her sin,
It’s black and thin,
And keeps her secret’s secret locked within.

Her eyes have lost their guiding light,
They store the night,
Abhor the bright,
And flicker within regret’s final fight

She craves a warmer shade-less place,
But not solace,
Another’s face,
Alas she walks a path she can’t retrace,

With lines as deep as battle scars,
From smoke filled bars,
To plastic cars,
She pins her every dream on falling stars.

Your memories had an aftertaste of codeine and old books.
They were cleverly masking the splinters festering beneath my fingernails.
Filling themselves out with false food, bloating my dreams.

The story never delicately unfolded. Rather, it was launched at my face, unexpectedly one night, by a fat angel.
I felt the shovel hit before I saw it coming. It was cloaked in golden hair and white teeth.

As the images shattered and slivers of cotton and green glass sliced my emotions, I was left with the type of clarity only a two day hangover can offer.
Not all birds can fly.
Not all doves are white.

And of all the monsters I've known,
Love is the most beautiful.

The smell of Autumn soil always digs a grave for me, with every cold breath drawing me back.
I’m just a spec of blue in this sea of amber and gold decay,
So out of place, desiring to sink and rot quietly, comfortably, becoming everything with nothing.

I belong here, and yet I cannot stay.
This warm blooded, cold breathing dragon bellows steam into the morning.
I close my eyes to the sun, but still she blinds me.
I am heavy with burden, fighting not to fall under this weight.
Just another broken heart,
Trying so **** hard not to fall apart.

Close your eyes and imagine that life is a tree,
Good souls tend the bark, nourishing it endlessly,
While some span the branches reaching out to be free,
And some hug the trunk, it's a safe place to be,

Some people are life's strength, let's call them the roots,
And others hang around looking pretty, they're the fruits,
But the ones to look out for, are the climbers at the top,
They'll always kick you down, and laugh while you drop,

But when they make a mistake and they eventually fall,
They'll be grabbing for branches and fruits one and all,
Close your eyes once again and imagine this tree,
Then ask yourself truthfully, which part is me,
And again, is this the part that I want me to be,

This place is my grief’s solace
Darkness folds herself around me and I am finally alone
I can hear my heart beating so very slowly vibrating every bone
It’s a warm and comforting sound that I know so well
My eyes spill over as I wander through my personal hell
But why do tears only stay warm until they are halfway down your face
And why can I only cry in this dark and secret place
This is my grief’s solace

My imperfections are as apparent as my broken bones.
Hidden perfectly beneath an emotional exoskeleton. Built over many years from many fears and thunderous words.
Of course I’ll try to save you, and probably ruin you by trying. But try I will.
I get so ******* tired of hearing about love. We’re all just running around our own little bubbles, describing what we see inside, not caring what’s outside.
So before you cast my words into the abyss with all the other noets, just remember.
Fallen Angels have wings too,
They’re just damaged from the fall.

"I cry," Said the sky,
"Sometimes I cry."
"But why?" said I,
"You're so high, Why cry?".
"I am high," said the sky,
"So high that I see them all die, and I cry."
He said with a sigh.
Then,
So did I.

I found her sitting in the crest of the moon with a ****** rifle, shooting stars, laughing as they fell one by one.
I asked her why she was laughing, and she told me she was making wishes.
I said “falling starts don’t make wishes.”
She stopped her chuckling and looked very seriously at me. “It’s not falling stars, it’s shooting stars!” She said with a “matter of fact” tone.
I shook my head and told her she was ****** up. “Don’t tell me I’m ****** up,” she said,
“I don’t have a specific direction.”
I fell back to earth with a bang.

Sometimes love is a beautiful melodic crescendo of disasters.
A melancholic verse without chorus.
The tempo beats a broken rhythm as minor and flat notes swirl around these breaking hearts.
Just dance to your own tune dear heart, and eventually you’ll realise you’re in perfect rhythm with another.
Your chorus will come.
Dance on.

Skipping hearts and flowers
Loving looks and wasted days of messed up bed sheets and plastic handcuffs
Then wunderluv snuck in while we slept and blew a gaping black hole between us

Our love hit the inside of life’s bucket like an aborted foetus
And I watched it slowly slipping down then drown in a puddle of stinging salty white tears

Thanks for the option Ray, but I’ll take the ten pound hammer any day of the week
Nothing causes more destruction to a man, than a woman with nothing to lose except the man she’s trying to destroy
Give my regards to Wundeluv

She wore her love like an old scarf.
The ends were damp from all the tears, and it  was tattered and torn from being pulled this way and that.
She tried so hard to find a comfortable way to share it,
But it always ended with her wrapping it around herself to keep out those cold hearts.