Black is the night
Black so deep
It devours the light
I cannot sleep
Yet one shines bright
Its gentle creep
The moon shines white
I almost weep,
Leaves circle mid-air
And soon catch aflame
I watch, I stare
As the trees do the same
The stars seem to glare
As if I'm to blame
Of creepy things I've had my share
And all I do tame
The shadows crawl,
Crawl to my feet
Against me, they fall
As do all foes I meet
The shadows tall
Oh what a treat
Demons, shadows, all
All I will greet

Like the artist
with a shattered heart,
I part with my senses.

what's a heart
without art in it?
A tortured soul
with a hole in its defenses.

Silk in a serenade,
each second becomes a day.
Just stay for the blink of an eye.
Now I have a reason to lose
control of my breathing.

Sympathy in the strings I play,
not so much in the things I say,
no matter how hard I try.
Unaware of the passing season,
am I staying or am I leaving?

Cornerstones crumble,
I don't trust my senses enough.
I've got a feeling nothings' real.
Now I have a reason to
really start screaming.

Polished brass,
shattered glass in the garden.
Examine the facts yet abolish
the past, a history lesson isn't
something I'm going to believe in.

The creases in time are
seamless in my sleep.
A fragile frame of mind,
I hate to suppress it. I'm inclined
to ask, am I awake, or am I dreaming?

Finding
my identity
as I fumble
through your
laundry,
I'm finding
my identity
as I stumble
through some
palm trees.

Sitting on the sand
where I watch the tide,
I'm sitting on the sand
where I syllogise;
sunshine and sugar pills,
of which I am comprised.

Honey,
if I'm a ***,
it's because you made me one.

I used to be
a
poet
colouring the page
spitting star studded images
reaching my cold hands out
entwining them with your soul
every word
made up
for what I could not draw
or sing
or create
or see
now who am I?
another poet
swimming in this murky grey water
with thousands of others
swimming about
in everyone's tangled words

and I'm a sort of poet
whose poems
don't even have a proper end---

Sometimes I dream that I'll spontaneously combust,

Or that my body will one day turn to rust.
I dream about fearing death,

And wake up out of breath.
Then I remember it's just a dream,

It makes me want to scream.
Because I know the world is full of life,

But death still remains its wife.