Life's a Beach

Life's a Beach Sep 2014

If I

If I gave a knife and asked you to take the tip
and run it's icy breath across my face
Would you do it?

If I danced across a burning flame
and asked you to step into the light
Would you question it?

And If I looked to you in an hour of need
My skin pulled paper taught
and a look of wordless want across
the sand dunes of my face

Would you help me do it?

For perhaps a deeper need is not within the things
we would or wouldn't do, but in the things we share.

You needn't take the knife
You do not need to watch me burn
You do not have to help me die

But if I ever turn to you and ask of you a sin
I ask, if you cannot, that you quietly still keep me in your mind.

Longing
Dancing
Dying

My wrinkled hand scorching a single
frozen sandprint in your palm
as I drift away for one last time

Still whole whilst I'm within you

#sin #dance #death #i #you #euthanasia

Life's a Beach Sep 2014

1 Date Down

Feverish hands fluttered like skittish birds
Nervous eyes danced like a swan's last song
and the promise of tomorrow was left on my lips
like a sticky note.

Friend had a first date yesterday, his nervous optimism about a second prompted this.

#crush #lips #sticky #hand #note #eye #date

Life's a Beach Sep 2014

Pain can be Healing

Do not lie to me
With the face of a God
Yet the tongue of a demon.
Lest, in face, I perceive
My wound as the mercy of
A Dagger of Truth

Nay, do not lie.

For with that mark I'd lie bleeding
Ignorant of your
slice
A piercing
Your knife still in my lungs
a Serpent's sword
It is not fair.

In a lie I'll die a thousand lingering deaths
And never feel a pain

With a truth I am wounded until my body
Heals me, to rise again

So do not give me a lie.

Hurt me

And allow me to live

#truth #pain #god #hurt #serpent #lie

Life's a Beach Sep 2014

in Slow Languid Love

The language of lips at the waste side
A bottle of whiskey on our tongues
And the sound of sibilance between our hips

Pure and utter Bliss

Life's a Beach Sep 2014

Keep Calm and...Oh, just *******.

I'm sick of feeling calm
and 'Brave' and 'Strong'
I'm longing, for once, to
not have to balance to maintain
'Right' and 'Wrong'

Because it's 'Right' that people
either play the 'Soldier or the 'Victim'

But, I've never had a ******* say
Never get to say ***** it
Never run away
Never raise my voice
Never add to the confusion

Because I'm the only one who can sort it out

Well I'm sick of playing Clean Up
Sick of wiping up your Slime
your Anger
your Hate
your Uselessness
your Ineptitude
your Spine and
your Gluttonous Selfish Views

Sick of your **** and sick and bile

Sick of having to smile and say "I'll be fine"
Sick of having to whine
Because it's the only way I stay living

Why do I have to be forgiving?

******* All
For the length of this poem I'm
going to be TALL and HAPPY and POISONOUS
and HEALTHY
then I'll go back to being small
accepting
pitiful
and fading

and I'll never tell you all,
as I rearrange while you blame,
that the 'faults' are
all
our faults
after all.

It's just that I clean up the mess.

#me #mess #rant #angry #right #fault

Life's a Beach Sep 2014

Malting

Don't look
Don't even think about
The Hairbrush

You've put it off
But now
you must put on a show

Almost hear the hairs

Doing it with fingers is worse
Like a rake to leaves
Smile
Remain calm
Carry on

Showering is a new hell
There they stick to you
Like leftover over seaweed
on the sand of your scalp

Wet Souvenirs of the past weeks
You pick them off one by one
try not to cry again

I hate this
Hate what has happened
Search for a blame
obvious choices
Attempt Anger
Anything but this empty smile
(Maybe the hormones will help)
and the familiar throb

But all I feel is Panic
Sorrow
and Resignation

That tomorrow always holds
another war

Regardless of how sick I am of fighting.

Last week or so has been hell. Family drama hit just as I got my annual depression (also two weeks until I leave for Uni), my hair has started falling out which is something I can't fix on my own.

I feel scared, but all I can do is carry on at this point.

#war #i #panic #malting

Life's a Beach Sep 2014

I'm Sure

Well I'm sure you'd feel haunted
Because you'd want to

And I'm sure you'd feel wasted
Well, that's me* not you

Because I'd go out with a flash of light
And at least I'd tried and I'd stay to fight
For the smallest grain, of the smallest rights,
That can make me feel alive

And I'm sure you'd feel cheated
Though I couldn't fake you

Perhaps you'd feel unwanted
I never meant that for you

And I when cradled a stream of fire
It burnt too close to my desire
Yet still when the ****** put out their lights
I'd still stay to watch yours too

So tonight when we lay awake for hours
Try to slip away the clock and
burn down the towers which have
built a gap between our feet

And Forced a laboured retreat

Tonight, don't think the word defeat
but relight a phantom candle, let a
glow dwindle, continue to thrive.
Tonight is the last night we are alive.

Tomorrow feel wasted,
cheated,
haunted,
forgotten
and Lost

Tonight, accost your senses with nonsense
and slip a away a grieving veil
Tonight feel
Free
Phantom
Pale

And, for now, just
Breathe with me

Grieve for me tomorrow, if you must.

#fire #breath #you #grief #light #tomorrow #tonight