Two glasses,
One bottle,
Candles,
A hint of moonlight
Casting its ghost
Upon the carpet,
Blankets,
Silence.

You and I
Were made
For this moment:
Where peace
And passion
Distract our hands
From touching
Our phones.

Tranquility
Has found its
Way to our doorstep,
Let it in.
Turn off the TV,
Turn off the lights,
Stay with me.

You are the first thing I need
When I wake up,

To cure the sleep that
Hangs from my eyes
And takes shelter in my bones,

To feel the warmth of your embrace
Soothe the soul,
Each sip better than the last,
Drink you in until there's nothing left.

When the cup is empty,
The insatiable urge resides,
Energy is restored
And I will face the day knowing
That you will be there again tomorrow.

I would throw myself from
A moving train to prove
My devotion to you,

I would bungee jump
From the highest point
Just to know your name,

I would tread on burning coals
And compare it to how your
Fingers would feel against my skin,

I would put my life on the line
To show how deep the love
Of a daredevil can go.

I was promised the stars,
And so, without hesitation,
I looked to the sky
In search for the perfect one.

I scanned every inch,
Eager eyes flicking
Through a catalogue
Of constellations,

Then I found it,
A celestial beauty
Somewhere between
Orion's Belt and beyond.

She finds consolation
In the shell of her being,
At the bottom of an ocean
Where neither man
Nor the tide that follows him
Can carry her away.

Her heart belongs in a shell,
Wrapped in layers upon layers
of nacre
Where she can abstain
From pain,
From torment
And from his touch.

The person sat by me,
Is calling somebody,
He's saying 'I love you'
Is that so unusual,
To feel so alone in that moment?

The lovers at the front,
Have had more than enough
Of their parents' scrutiny
So they commit mutiny,
And consequences are left unspoken.

The cold condensation
Hides all condescension,
From every pedestrian
With bitter complexions
Who braved the cold and are frozen.

Last night I had a dream
That I was
F
A
   L
    L
     I
     N
      G.

I wasn't falling down,
Nor falling in love,

I fell  a p  a   r    t.

It started slowly at first,
A single thread that fell out of place,
But then each strand expanded,
From inches to infinity,
Revealing flesh,
Bone
And the unwanted parts in-between.

Like Time and Space
I continued,
Relentlessly uncurling
Until I was nothing more
Than a tightwire
That even my heart
Could never walk.

Lonely London boy,
A stranger to the City,
A fluffy-haired gull
Lost in a sea of suitcases
And Kodak-clad people.
Big dreams tucked
Into the waistcoat
That hugged his frame
A little too much,
Occasionally glancing
Into café windows to
See how disheveled
He had become
During rush hour
On the Bakerloo Line.

When it rains,

It pours,

And I am born again.

I sprint through fire
But it's never enough,
To keep the blood pumping
To keep up the rush,

To work up a sweat
And purge all the waste,
The insatiable thirst
For a relentless chase,

The thrill of a hunt
For beauty and art,
To inject through the skin
And into the heart,

Exorcise all evil
And shatter the chains,
Of a beautiful mind
That was branded insane.

Too much static on the phone,
Slurred words like an electronic
Intoxication
That only the creatures of the night could translate,
I wait for you to finish,
To quit pouring out your heart
For no real reason.
Why are there tears?
Why are there tantrums?
I find myself throwing back the blades,
Words so sharp
It's like I am there plunging them
Into you myself.
I shake,
I quiver,
The stream of assailing aggression
Drowning the mouthpiece
Until I am sure it'll burst into flames
And shatter into oblivion.

I like to think of myself as a piece of paper,
Delicate,
Easily scrunched into a ball
And disposed of,
With ease you can punch
A hole through me,
I can be torn apart
At the hands of another
And be discarded.

But as fragile as I may appear,
I also possess strength that no one
Could ever conjure in their head.
I absorb ink,
Preserving the overwhelming
Creativity that flows,
I can be folded
Over and over again
Until I am an origami masterpiece,
I can be the vessel
Of vast knowledge,
Used as a means of holding
Secrets that everybody
Wants hidden.

The best part is,
Is that I can be recycled,
No matter how many times
I am broken down
I am transformed,
And every essence,
Every fibre of my being
Exists in every corner
Of the world.

Raindrops collide with the fogged glass of my window,
I stare out,
Acknowledging their desperation to enter
But dismissing them because I am too selfish
To let go of the warmth.
A cup of tea rests on the desk,
Steam rising and vanishing
Like waves at sea,
The grey clouds roll across the horizon outside,
Releasing their tears across the sky,
Crying from days of an endless pilgrimage
To a salvation only the people with their feet
On the ground can fathom.
There is an aching in my bones,
From seeing the world turn to
An empty canvas when only hours before
It burst with a breathtaking vibrancy
Of blue skies and blazing sunshine.
The storm clouds roll in,
The stars will never illuminate
When the day time falls to its knees
And the moon is alive,
The wolves will never howl
As the thunder grabs the land
And bangs it like a drum,

All that I wait for now
Is for the candles to blow out,
For the tea to cool down
And for the sun to return again.

I turned my back and felt the stare,
Of someone close but wasn't there,
No shadow to cast
Or a body to hold,
Not a drop of warmth
To ease the cold,
No hands to clasp
Or lips to kiss,
Not an ounce of insecurity
Gone unmissed,
No burdens to carry,
Or weight to share,
Of the glare of the person

*Who was never there

The heat,
The way it ripples from the steel handlebars
And burns my hands,
The way the clunking of the chain feels
As each pedal propels me forward
Beneath the sun.
The sky is blue,
The air is crisp and leaves pinpricks
On my skin,
Soothed by the tenderness
Of sun rays that fall like curtains
Upon the concrete.

It smells of rubber,
A lingering scent of nostalgia
That fills my lungs like tar
And fills my heart with youthful
Thoughts.
As the wrinkles emerge,
And the delicate cracks begin to show,
I realize that my bike
Is the last memento that
Resonates through my aging ways.

Let's take a final spin down the boulevard,
Before the sun goes down
And my bones ache once more.

Like a whisper can spread into a rumour,
Satirical  slur can be somebody's humour,
The way that we talk as if the world is deaf,
Shouting at walls as if there's no one left,
Cut throat consonants and viper vowels,
Too many blows makes you throw in the towel,
Spit out the blood and wipe off the spit,
Get your head in the game
And dive into the pit,
We all have a voice that shapes and that moulds,
Too many cards that we're able to fold,
Speak out for peace or speak out for change,
Irritate the lion and make him roar from his cage,
No bad blood will spill if you speak the truth,
And not spend your life just jumping through hoops.

I never thought
I'd get off this high horse,
For my feet to touch the earth
And feel something,
No clouds to obstruct my view,
Throwing the rose tinted glasses
To the ground
And crush them into the soil,
But new realisations can be
Hard to deal with,
So I must take my time
To piece it together

The lights go out as another day
Draws to a close,
In the distance sirens of an ambulance
Ripples through the stillness
Of the night,
I ache,
I'm tired,
But I'm restless.
The staircase extends beyond my feet,
Up into a blank space
Where light cannot reach
And darkness can wait
For me to enter.
I can feel its eyes on me,
Fixated on my body
As I approach the first step.
I don't know why,
But the lingering presence
Is always there,
As if it waits with arms crossed
And draped against my bedroom door,
It sense my fear and I sense its intent:
To creep into my mind,
To feed off the chaos that stirs
Each and every day.

It is a human trait to want what is best for
Yourself,
To succeed,
To reach new heights where you almost struggle to breathe,
To make it to the top and watch what you have built thrive,
But you've lost count of how many knives
You've planted in someone else's back,
How many times you have fed off the innocence
Of one's vulnerability
And expose it to catapult your delusions higher,
You keep a tally of how many people you have
Crushed to clear your own path to the pedestal.

But everything crumbles in the end.
You hang precariously over those
Who hungrily wait for you to return
To the bottom of the food chain
Where you belong.
After all,
It is survival of the fittest
And we all want a taste of invincibility.

One shot for the sorrow,
Two to be sure,
Three for the morning
To make it a blur,
Five hours of dancing,
Six steps till I fell,
Seven minutes unconscious,
As far as I could tell,
Eight people to help,
Nine nine nine took moments to come,
Ten glasses of water,
An aspirin and then some.

Inject me,
Pierce the skin
And it let it merge
With blood cells and
Bacardi,
Press your lips against mine
And slip the pill onto my tongue,
Don't pull away until each grain
dissolves
Stacks of cash
From selling love in bottles,
Capsules,
IV drips,
Losing our minds as we
Become entangled in unconsciousness.

But when I wake up you're gone.
Sweaty palms,
Goosebumps,
The fear of relinquishing control,
Or even losing my mind?
We become addicted to the visions
In our head,
The dreams we steal from dark corners
Of the brain
When we are intoxicated,
Yet with each passing of time
We rely on what numbs the pain
Of what we lost.

We place ink on paper
The way we swallow a pill,
Hesitation,
Fear of bitter taste and
Dissatisfaction,
Failure to expel what truly
Eats us alive.
We try to wipe away the fever that stains
Our body
The way that the ink stains the pages,
Seeping through and latching on
With no hope of removing it
Until we grow a deep immunity,
A force that dissolves all absolute
Decay and bacteria
Until we are clean.
One dose of imperfection
And three moments of inspiration a day
Will make you healthy again

Locked inside your head,
Hearing distant footsteps
From the bottom of the stairs,
Alone in an empty room,
Broken ***** bottles
That drowned out the nightmares,
Fear of self control,
The thought of gaining power
That will make you way too strong,
Fear of letting go,
The thought of shattered potential
And seeing things go wrong,
Lost in a crowd,
The voices all the same
Your direction is all off track,
Speaking out for what you love,
The aching trepidation of rejection
That makes foundations of progress crack,
Achieving perfection,
Looks that could never ****
Or bodies that never impressed
Being normal,
It scares you half to death,
It makes the mind obsessed.