With a fly across my lips, your paisley wall,
Like the interior of a chandelier,
Floats like a cartoon span sporadically
Into motion.
Commotion, as the grimmoire that observes
Every moment as they occur,
cauldron that stirs the blood
Through the vein, is broken free.For a moment
The sky was loose, we were free and we were floating;
But now we watch as insects dawn our skin
And dismantle our presence.
My hand spirals the green neck of the bottle
That splits us, departing our lips indefinitely,
And you intercept to top your own glass first.

she had a long fringe with its tips bluntly burnt.
i could tell then that she was a clumsy smoker,
with her lips curlt ****** red, my hands in her head
she said I had the eyes of a heart crisscrossed with the joker.

I'll rewind the clock and swear on a life long lost.
Some days all I feel like is a vessel,
A decrepit theaterhouse, running memories.

Staring out with blank eyes at the ceiling.

Finding myself only to lose myself the next day;
Force-fed a shadow from a wall
From in my dreams. I am not this cryptic skin,

I am not who I was, and that is a blessing

I should have accepted and embraced long ago,
I am not a part of the puzzle because the puzzle

                                                         ­        was a myth in the first place.

Look at the stars
Spinning, coursing lightweight
   Through the blackness,
Like ice-coated spiders
Floating gentle, softly interweaving
Cloud and hovering nearly near enough
To be captured by your tiny hands.

It seems all so easy
To stay here mentally forever.

Look at the stars
Drifting magnetically, childlike
In their path. Lost and dreamy,
An image separated from a cause;
Heavenly blessings as they drop close enough
To kiss the roses,
Breezily hoping to rest frozen

'Neath the nest of your tired skin;
Lazily watching the night transition

As others must've all those nights before--
When you were too busy to pay them any mind.
These stars map a codex that laughs at you
While you're fixed to the ground and forced to look
           beautiful.

These stars sing of the dead. Muses without a voice
Or lives to any longer be lead. The stars dream
Silently of you, patiently nibbling at your breath,
Looking forward to the day they can absorb your
            smiling teeth.

The stars hold your spirit and you theirs,
Both constant and unremarkabley dull--
The stars did not ask to be beautiful,
We made them that way. The stars

And you are one, in as much a way as polar opposites
Can be one.
You and the stars, making your fates as you go along...

You and the stars: unintentional twin sisters left astray.

You and the stars: two blind men unravelling an exquiste corpse.
You and the stars: two pawns beating helpless in awe of their sojourn.
You and the stars: complimenting the other like sand does glass.
You and the stars: in awe of each other and the rainwater that
preludes

The moment.
You are the stars, you are the dreamer, you are the observer,
You are the life that has been given life in order to give it back

Sing softly now and lullaby the stars asleep,
Like the son does after growing old for his dying mother,
Like the summer leaves do when their boughs start to snap.
Sing softly for the stars that remind you of whence

Once you were nothing

But a hypnotised lantern

Wandering the endless black.

You and the stars, connect them
even when they appear as aimless

  anxious dots.

Form a shape out of the stars; encarve
And embody the flesh of your own constellation.

Luminescent skin, spiralling layers pressed
From inside the curling dagger pollen;
Violin strings draw forth the butterflies
Towards their fate, cerberus lips clasp
Wings of dafodil— spotty mossy green
Outcrosses the budded red drooping dead;
Akashic run, like that of a waterfall
Whence rippling pendulums row,caught infinitely.

Glowing stem— seperating to laughing claws
and mandalas paused along fully harmonious crease;
All falls back to fungal soil underground
For which all life is magnetically supported:
Prestine exoskeleton, flaming bones
that weavith skyward with ancestral ghost
softly chasing, having foundated their creator.

Blonde hair binding split petals via waves
  Of furious vibrations, snapped calm and quiet.

Mature flesh and bone, whom let the pencil
Move over pale canvas—
'I picture a clock that's arms spin fire
Outward. '
Poor woman, legless two years
Prior to her deathday— wonderous harbinger
Who once, overwhelmed by the menial day to day,
let pencil fall,skim and form
   and reform

Beautifying the world -- lonely, bold and brave
Her mind image caught, fished through the haze

And etched for the rest of time to forget.

Flowers are the earth's fruit
    Which await the sun's permission
         To beautify and ripen

And at night may serve
   As guiding lanterns floating atop
          Their mother thorns

To gently lead the moon oceanward.

Including the hangover,
                                       that's two wasted days.

Autumn,with the force of rapid thunder
Dawns the sky, clawing the lake asunder
  Beneath our steps
As we leapt
  To,fro,and to again;

Here we burn, trapped to our limboid sojourn
Gasping for air as the Daemon sits without a care
Tracing and chasing the ends of his thinning thread
Connecting to our voodoo dolls, laments of our death
In silent whispers only existant at all by the dents
Where our mouths should be.

This dreaded haunting, this memory looped
With crimson nails the Daemon draws hoops
Pliable as a smoke ring from laughing lips,
The Daemon strings us by his fingertips—
Reminds us we alone created hell on earth—
You can taste it in the kicked up dust,
The unlexical powder that remarks our birth
In this stale heat, our skin starts to crust.

I called you my best yet, you said I was a settlement in a lost bet,
I called you a ***** and wished I drownt you in the wishing well
Where you'd only have other mute spirits left to tell; I set

Out on a ****** scheme that night--
To slit your throat as you awoke and watch you fight
Without a chance.
I watched you in your contorted dance and felt you lift,
Shiver and go stiff
Dying in my arms. But as I sighed I felt invisible red eyes
Settle on us from the willows
Behind the blindness window.

I heard a needle scrape, a scornful moan and a bat's descry.
I knew then I truly was the pawn in a wicked game
Who's evil was signatured in our name.

The devil netted your soul dear, and already had mine.
And as I sat straddled over your limpid frame, frozen in time
And feeling his nails, like worn toolbox screws, along my spine
I oddly thought pleasantly of better times:

Of our first meeting on that autumnal day, when caught in the breeze
And kissing discreetly
Amongst the trees
and along the lake we simontaniously compared to the mythical  Lethe.

I loved you then, oh how I did,
And in return, we'll love forever—
Us, the looping dead.

a headboard crashing
echoing against the walls
like whips of lightn'in'.

Life is madness,
But try not to get caught
to the trap of getting too easily
                             astonished.

Prickly morning sun strings up
      the hair on her arms as she gazes,
watching the waves bobble and weave and listening
to their dead seashells and shellfish;
       ricketing and momentarily floating.

For a moment, her heart is the ocean.
  Always beating and providing life without
knowing why. She sighs and begins to forget she is lost--
The synthetic shores of everyday life at her backfoot,
   the burning sand ridden with childhood memories.
She slowly allows it to dissapear
and recaptures a piece of her self
                                                            ­  in return;

Belonging to this ocean as much she does the sky it reflects.

Calling, lamenting her name without a word, the ocean
     lullabies her soothing sighs, falling rythmatically now--
Raindrops disinter the clouds and tickle the rythm
     of her pulse. Soft, soft backing instrument to her final
            calling. There is no need to look around again;
  
There is no guard in sight. The prickly sunshine fades
  To ruthless cold air and she walks forward, mouth agape
        and ready

For the ocean to swallow her and recapture her, entombed,
     enwombed forever more.

One day the moon will stop.
    Settling it's last motion unto eternal stillnes;
   And the ground will quake, craters will rattle

And we'll lift like lanterns, light as lit matchsticks
  As we rise to the final night sky.
   Joining the ranks of stars forever stillborn.

The oceans will quiver along one last circlet
  In ode to their past life and the lives they lived through,
   And we will look down at our old skin...

         Never feeling ready enough to properly reincarnate;

Heaven and hell twirl entwined like see-moss
Embalmed into an eternal possession,
Hearts mark themselves deeply then bare to rot;
You can undo love but never obsession.

Most of my life has consisted of inner dialogue  

I know your mind more than you'd care to admit yourself;
Through your ****** twitchture's that identify a life time
In their every snapshot, I love you.
I love you, I love you, I love you,
I love you so much as to want to taste your life
And suckle away and ride aside any bad memories
Then hold you warm forever after.

I think our first kiss lasted
like the the afterdust of some supernova star
   I wish we could stay like this forever,
I feel I could only learn to love you more.

Like a prism unravelling
    At the sight of it's own ugly reflection

Without a care, without a thought;
My heart beats calmly in it's place

And reminds me I'm still here.

My face has aged so many years, I feel I've lived

   A few condensed lifetimes and the year's
                 not even over yet,
Is it brain damage or being stuck in a doldrum?
I dont know and neither does it matter.

My brain is bleeding, my thoughts are scattered
Like a violent death translated
         Via zig-zags in a pulse monitor.

Dont let me die without a scream,
     Dont let me be this way forever.

I’m so glad that we met and I’m so glad it’s over
I miss you so much and I’m so glad it’s over

In the end you hate me O well it’s over.

I don't want to sleep on you again but you make me so tired
You say you want to be lovers but I feel more like your diary whenever we speak...
this prayer will not be answered in the form of an unchecked pocket,
there's a limit to how many times you can lose anyone.

And you never said sorry and if you did I wouldn't believe it,
I think forgiveness is selfish by proxy, surely you wouldn't disagree

Like Elster and her promise
I'll emerge thru hell and roam blistered from the snow
To see my true love's face once more;
I carry her face everywhere I go
I just learnt to let go of all the words spoken,
abandoned broken wing's never mend
And I can so easily pass her shoulder-bredth wordlessly and pretend she means nothing to me now but do you really expect me to pretend we were never lovers at all?

And I never got a Farewell kiss from you, I know you think I'm hurt by that fact
But little did you know I stole one instead from your cat...

Now

Go away and stay there,
I'm sorry it meant more to you than it did to me,
That's not my fault though.

Armies roam from countries without name intoxicated from hexen and strangled with furious visions they
     are fated to bring into fruition.

Diseased, deformed and locked to a sole lover
Who's kisses are like a rat's dying twitch
He must swallow each one fruitless like the only remaining food left. "I'll see your bed kept clean"
She says clutching her scarf to her throat
'I'll even leave the richest flowers at your head."
And as he let the door fall behind him atlast he finally responded to his wife of many years
"I will not return."  in a tone so unrecognisable to her it froze her cold,
You see, that was how his voice sounded when he told the truth.

And as wandered the road each step bringing him closer to joining his men
One thought rang like a bell looping throughout his head:
Love is many things, a refrigerated bigmac is not one of them.

See how storms come, destroy and pass so easily forgotten
You are so strong in too many ways to count and this you know-- and above all else you must believe your unknown strengths hold so much more power,
Your cries are burying bodies although you are too broken-hearted at the time to notice;
Life's a mess of obvious' and symbols and your life holds
So much power in the form of realising what direction you choose to take,
And by now you surely know hell is not a place it's but a season

And by now your paintings have been stored aswell as burnt and you saw how little the difference left you
Besides your face being left ashy.


I never meant you any harm but you rightfully act like a tragic melodrama-maiden as you're bound to
And I leave it alone as I should
I grew tired growing up just to die
Young in battle day after day.

What caricature image must I be in your words
And look like in your head
For you to've justified every bad decision made?
I used to wonder now I see it more

As a pitty too frail so that it's put to the back of my mind, I lived with so many embodiments
    of sadness and I barely had a good placement

To even start out with, did I? Still, I'll carry a smile
As prominent as starven bones when
I hear my name called and know you're
Away from my side forever after.

Some days are so low it hurts,
      Heartbeat racing limbo and spreading
Centre of chest in an empty ache.

Perspective slips, sliding underfoot
       Like a carpart pulled and unravelling,
Enveloping me and passing me by.

Some days floating still, eyes closed
         and wanting to dissapear.

Take care and be careful
riot vans flooding the streets
Live in the moment- be cheerful
While you still can

Eyes glued to the future and scanning,
Never expect things to go to plan;
But the solution is simple and like you
I can seal it with my hands
But I'd rather live my life eyes shut

A widely opened book
With the footprints on my skin to show for it
**** pouring it up, I'm engulfed in it
And threading delicate alibis out of my lonliness

Parading through the chaotic hangover with the ambition

Of a tectonic force.

My mother said they say the dead are blessed
but i don't think so,

i wake to my dream's afterimage overlaying
the ceiling;i stay laid in place
envisioning myself
gorged in holy water, purging away any memory
hitherto

but that's just not the way it goes;
Sat here as the vinyl needle scratches the same
  scabs,as a tired revolver—

leaks **** of sound,thick repitidous clouds which
  lead to nowhere and nothing—

a bored, ambient crackle,

  
In the poetic spirit, it reeks of home
  but reminds me I am I, alone

And in the conversing-sense
  it gives me a ******* migraine,

it was one of W—’s favourites
when it's tune was still entact

But alas, it is what it is, outside is a world
i've grown too sore to mingle in
(dare i say a multiform delirium where
  it's both too typical and too unpredictable
((daren't i blame another reason?)))
Regardless,i'll stay inside another day
  
and skim and retrace the life that brought us here
   to **** the time.


If nothing else.

Legs astretched like venomous broomsticks
Fangs drooped lazily like a calm nosferatu,
Those eyes gold as sun on styx, treasures
  that spun flame between his every blink--
Sandpaper tongue dragged over black hair
Nibbling his own wrist momentarily, then
Locking sleepy eyes on you, ascending fleece--
Retractable moonbeams flex teasing attack
   then kneads, falling like a lullaby back into
       uncapturable dreams; purring in the spirit of poe.

Lift the crumb-sized bit to your lips,
Hesitate until it's too late for hesitation,

Fold to tongue and absorb those tasty, harmless
Spider footprints and germatic warzones.

petals of the willow
vibrate with mild rain
as our approaching footsteps
run through them
coalescing in a magical scene
seemingly beyond a stroll in the park;
above,the crepuscular sky hangs
fake-looking,like a stageplay's backdrop
with a myriad of still blue's overlaying
one another
and the clouds like puffy scabs atop youthful skin.

I think we are slowing
down (perhaps,unconsciously to fit
the pace of the scene)
and I think our footsteps are mirroring our heartbeats,
I know Mine are
And I know Yours are mirroring Mine.

beneath us the willows' petals tremble soft
and I am glad
to be alone with You tonight,to belong to the park
together,forever entuned,
forever entwined-- if only for tonight.

Sailing soft, frozen in time--
Sat on your chair where I could've sworn
I saw a past life regression flash along

Your face. Stuck there now,
I'm alone now and forever forth.
For years I stored half my cash into a box
without second thought
just to end up spending it all in six months.

that last crash erased all the academic pablum
that proved less required reading
  more distraction.

Just a border now,
head against an extending wall,
Witless and stonecold sober;

At ease with every unanswered craving
And coexisting with a life where nothing goes
   according to plan.

Our first kiss, lips pressed--
Electricity to stone--
A new age to bloom.

Maybe we were only made for God to hear gorgeous music
The angels and fishes failed to provide
But then we just got a little carried away with ourselves,
And so he deposited his gloves and dusted his hands
Happy enough with what he got

I can't say my r's yes I know
It's aww so cute
If you want to stick out
Maybe you should tell me
I've got an ugly smile

But then

You would

Be lying. And you know
How I feel about liars...

on the phone
you talk and talk until suddenly
  you say you're going to let me go.

i stare out empty, filling in images
  over the blank wall, it's became a sort of silent mantra as of late;
the vague daydreams are bound to crumble back to memory
some way or another
if not wear it's bite marks like tiny wounded flags

i let grow swollen.  i only wish you never changed me like you did. i remember gathering rugburnt rashes
on our underthighs, making each other's jaws twitch
with the electric heater as our modern day campfire.
it's a good day for a warm shower, to burn my skin red and peel an unrecognisable face out of the mirror, a clense, a diy baptism;in the aftermath: i showered as many times as i had to,
i saw the outcome miles away (it was a certainty any time i dared to speculate on the possibility)
O why am i so sickened ?
i had to figure out if i had any right to be

and the days dragged on so long.

your eyes glowed like chasms once,
they've grown oxidated and cold since.
i hope i've done my part to change you too.

Sometimes I've felt like a pawn being puppeteered to trapeze a thin string,
Knowing for sure that I'm drawing a noose but waiting to know who it's for.

Nothing happens and as long as I'm sedated nothing can go about it's way blissfully

I can't stand to live another day across from you
But you know where I am if you need a place to stay

I've mistaken my killer for my twin before
And the aftermath is me left alone to answer:
What else have I got to lose?

Dart your eyes to the floor and keep them
there when you see me passing.
I don't bask in your fear, don't misunderstand me, I want the best for you that much has never changed
  nor will it ever

You just owe me as much to carry the burden of knowing me beyond skindeep head on lap fingers claw thru my hair cancelling out the noise nextroom and lets me think I could sleep if I wanted to,

Who'd you think you are to tell others I was never grateful?
My grace is all I've had for a while and that's what's been the matter
With or without you there to add and take away from me in that state
or parading as some other,
We both did it it's only human infact when we stopped imitating it was only right for us to fall apart

You take my silence as anger and consider yourself victorious
Baby I know you as well as you know me
We'd still be best of friends if you'd kept your shoes on,we both know that; but how can you expect forgiveness and for me to be thankful for you
Saying you forgive me
I'd be less stunned if you slapped me baby
I figured you out long before we gave up speaking then became you in your absence just to impersonate your company
Is that not a white flag being swayed by a dying captain?
Shame shame shame cast for all nearby spirits to observe and laugh at
if they so pleased

I bite my teeth and stomp my feet but nothing ever changes

I left some dead fruit
  By the window ledge
In the hopes fruitflies
Would sprout and break free

  their torrid wings from the grapevine roots.

Instead, all I got was a smelly room

And grapes that hissed dissapointedly
As they crackled inward in the background
(rotting flesh now too heavy
to carry on stiffupperlipped).

How sunny it is outside. How much

  Sunnier the weatherman says it'll be
tomorrow. Atleast, I think with my last thought
Of the day,

Atleast I'll remember to get fresh fruit tomorrow.

Her pale flesh trickling rainy vibrations ,
like watching fingers ran along a piano
   In the lense of an X-ray.

Goosebumps pricked and curling,
Her eyes were like self-contained half-moons upon half-moons builded on the budded rose of her lips
That split in a pink smile. The smile you have at that age, fauxly

assured and posing confidence.

Her face is ascribed to God over her mother, her father
  or me.
Her faith is beatless and with a kiss soft as a wrist-binded ribbon,

She said she stores all her faith into me.

A gusto glee that's marinated in the foggy dreams of
Too many days to count, or to care about anymore.

I loved her, and for the first time I believed someone when they said they loved me back.

I could hardly wait to sleep that night with her in my arms
for the very first time.

The truth is I love you,
I love you more than anyone else would
And I love you all the more
For loving me more than anyone else could.

Like a stem floundering through muck
Just to blossom in the sun,
I will do my everything
to make you feel at home.

When December ends and the sea
Reconnects to its frosty coat
And we stroll over pavements
Icey as opioded eyes

I will try to fix myself
Into your fantasy

For I know you could never
Be mine and I know

I have nothing left to lose

Apart from your physical presence.

We found a cosy enough scene amongst the chaos,
Two strangers connecting among a crowd
like anxious magnets in a scrapyard
And it felt
A first encounter with a lifetime lover from some other dimension;
my self in a sense, caught to the reflection of an opposite ***.

We were the 'quiet ones' in our own regard
Prone to panic attacks and sudden unruly suggestion of madness and lengthy times of introvert
And although there was a lifesworth we never knew
There was enough of an understanding to
Make conversation. I mostly listened,
Lost in your voice. I don't think I'd ever gotten on with
Someone so quick
                            but
   There are some beautiful people in the world that do that:
By the end of a conversation you're ready to hold them
A million years
                     Or more.

The second conversation came later in the night,
Listening to the flowery clock locked to her chest
her mouth stirring cockerel shells and laughing honey teeth
liltly blind; oceanblue irises circumference marble black
            pupils, puffy cheeks and half moon lips
                            curled and split in a caring smirk;

it seems impossible
to imagine being you and not thinking myself beautiful
Yet you say that's the case,
And like my expression was open to telepathy
She said the very same thing back to me and we both thought
I love you
but neither could say it.

There probably wasnt enough similarities to make up
For the differences.

Like an amphetamine fiend
Clawing through a winter storm
Trembling and dawning laborious scars

I trek passed the bars and cars
In search of you and the memories
You left, trying to trace a past life long

Obscened

The sun's still out my head's in the heels of my shoes
I'm surprised I can even dress myself

And though I stand here lonesome
I lift my eyes from the ground
upto those birds that spiral novel uncharted shapes in the blank sky.

Me I'm still bleeding I just don't get to bleed on you now
How lucky for us both
To look back and forgive and forget as we please  and bless sweet nothings in and out of nothingness and choose whether we could or couldn't care less
Nicotine laced condensation scratches the window too blurry to see anything but my face
Though I only see it from the outside when looking back
Jester-like like the black cat's white-outlined grin
before crying to be let in and out of the rooms as he pleases
I know you spend as you get but can't you account for anything at all?

     I'm nibbling my wrists those birds are all I've got to lick the wounds
And I can only care for them so long as they still want me to look at them

And you
You sit with so much on your mind have you really just nothing to say?

I've met you several times but we only spoke that one time, didn't we?

You just took a couple draws from my cigarette and we were both happy enough to leave it at that

If I saw you in the street I may assume the identity of my doppelganger
  I'd still like to call her over to mine someday if I were able to but that's not something I dwell on
You're just the reason I'm starving I wouldn't pay me no mind in your spot either
Sweet-thing

You aren't worthy of another promise I would've been happy if I could've only atleast had them left to keep
I'd rather crash literal breakneck speed before speaking to you again and you know that by now, don't you?

Fog falls light from small mountains it looks faint but it imposes it's presence to-be
threatening to cover our faces heavy enough to stain our clothes

It beckons those pretty birds to be among the first to rise and
be engulfed

I'm stuck to the ground sweetthing with my eyes falling back down,
My feet are heavy as stone but I can't afford to get tired waking up so late into the day.

Cross the sea, cross the land, ticking bomb stranded
***** totem in an aged biscuit tan.
Slit-slash, the sun is an open wound
Across the sky that preludes a myriad of boredom's

The wind caught their blank faces and froze them
Thawless, invincible as a corpse and forever
Parading the street. When I was younger
I wanted to sit on a rock and watch history go by
But now I'm not so optimistic, I'm on the run in a sense

Living life on the dime of a lucky sixpence, pensiveness
Only seems to waste time. 'You get busy living' they say,
'Or you get busy criming.'

I contemplate
the inevitability of
                   Death
                          Over the course of a
Cigarette
As Otis Redding plays.
                         I should really stop smoking...

Her paper-thin wings, inked in grainy
yellow and true azure blue;
The butterfly's ****** movements twitched
Like a stop motion puppet's.
Her bearded creator bows in sarcastic devoir
Wheeling out the spiralling portal
And contorting it to a star that rapidly unfolded--

At last, the pale sequinned godess is upon us,
Trembling in goosebumps like raindrops atop
   the rattling leaf. Sacred imprisoned witch;
    harbour of her sister's thorny cobweb, and fangs
That wish nothing more than to knit upon our sordid

            flesh.

I despise August.
It is crueler than 6 aprils combined

No one's there for me they just feel like they owe me

I held her in my arms just weeks ago how the **** is she gone
I listened to her voice like it was yesterday
And now that's all we have left of her.

The whole world is sick. It's like inhabiting a hospice cosntantly

I'm so tired of this life

Starry when the night began, we ran ran ran
along running water young enough to have no trace of age.
Alice strung out floating like the prettiest diamond
imaginable.

Kindly petting cheek then struck like a thunderous match,
her face glowed a sinking white-- a face made of candles
lit beneath plaque eye sockets, wildly staring blackness,
lips built on an unfamiliar shade of red,
Flaxen hair that sliced along gemstone irises;

I love love love you. Please, stay a while longer, long
enough to feel like forever-- although I know such is impossible--
Look at those seagulls feeding rain to the distant waves,
Wings soon to be scrambling overhead, let me read you a book
about a girl whom you were probably named after.

I will sing a lullaby and hold hold hold you in it for
as long as I can.

Death's flowing scroll
Aweing as you misstep,falling
In a loop which,once surpassed,
Is encompassed with laughter.
Glaring down,screaming.
You both scream in unison,so bitter
It causes the trees in the glen
To bend and whimper—

Flickering back in time for a moment:
Snakebones traced from inside the walls
Slithering malady for countless centuries;
Shedding it's calloused flakes from time to time...
What is that which the starshine overhead emulates?
Is it whiteblood or mere rain? lo,mere dust
Thrown throughout the black sky.

Death guides you to the brim of the cliff.
He is uniformed in your old clothes,brandishing eery whispers
  By the flick of his tongue. 'Scream now
And you will scream for an eternity.'

Weeping sonatas haunt the patio
Underlined with your twisting fingertips
Once ablur and tracing Beethoven Debussy
Mozart and Bach and it's all gone now—
I still recall your grey eyes as clearly as the rusted
and snagged red wood that forms the old arbour
Where we use to sit and trade stories.
Still here and seeming
A relic that should have been forgotten.—
I  watch the sun turn the wood white
Then crackle crisply into night, I can still
Hear your spectral steps from the day you
Left us.

I slept in the bed that used to be yours wondering
   why.

as drunk and free as an uncontacted species

glass stained with vitriol;
empty, limp
and forever there to haunt.

Things will never be the same. So easy to say.

an unescapble realisation
that pierces sharp as a tribal spear
formed out of an ivy husk

nipping my body
like snow on a freshly reopened wound
i am bled dry

i am stranded with only self as harbour to delay

This unavoidable crash. The breeze's have teeth

that rip my skin to shreds just to zip it up again.

the faces that make up the windows
are cutouts of people you once knew...

My guide framed in stone embedded in gold --
truncated before hope had it's chance to settle

I'm torn between the mirror and the leap.