You telling me to:
"Just go home."
Sent mixed messages .

i got lost on my way here, my mind stumbled over the underground lines
like a child's excitement for a new toy. WAIT
i'm not saying this is a game, no, no.
This is my first time i found peace not between dead inkstained-
oak or elm or whatever they use to write books where the characters-  
are as alive as the train i traveled on to get here.

i'm not using you, no, no.

Forgive me. Now my tongue's the one all tripping over itself.
Can yours come over, and tell mine a good morning story?
(i'll pay for the coffee.)

the longing behind fingertips
reaching for hands
snatched away so quickly.
i forget their feeling so quickly
i forget your flinches so quickly.
and so it repeats.
can you feel the longing left
somewhere in the empty air?

Hi there Poet,

Your presence is always precious
here in my home,
Whether it’s lovesick confessions
or a need to not be alone.

These white walls and boxes
to which you can write any sins away,
or to just play dally with linguistic foxes,
to make quicker a boring day.

To scrawl out words black
to find redress and re-rhyme,
to release and not hold back
to find home-truths, to take your time.

I can take you at your word
be it dishevelled, battered or grey,
your weary voice can be heard
to make some weight fall away.

But now Dear Poet
it’s time to end this tune,
you’ve written a new one? Well show it,
the one hidden in your drafts since June.

my heart is bronze.
patina ridden and decrepit
burning with rust and slaked with scars. it is too late for it. it's engravings are scratched through and through its middle lies dents and indents and doubts. Hollow ringing.
surface level decay.
but it's never enough is it?

it's never enough.

chasing yellow brick roads
leads only to windmills wound around
over-ThinkHearSee-ing
till eventually you find nothing
but faults of your own and the doubts
which trickled up now reversed to waterfalls
cascading upon old hearts to freeze any semblence
of feeling
wait

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
You will love
**Again

It's cold and warm but neither really wants to connect which is understandable really who wants to give 100%
so go back and forwards it's rocking horse hopes and flag posted dreams fluttering in the grey breeze named
"Memory."
it's not forgetting to remember,
it's about remembering to **forget.

Two lovers standing
parallel on a street
late in Shorditch
graffiti came billowing
out from their ankles
spray painting their distance
in moments
like a gap in a kiss
could paint murals.

Nothing's changed.
'cept that smile. Now, leave's a weird taste,
of one part pity, two parts haste.
Sorry for subjugating you to this foolishness.
Guess saying "no" was for the best.

sea scalded lips
cracked like shoals
yet smooth surfaced
moistened by coral tongue
locked behind bone reefs
but to be blessed by those waters
to be swallowed by maelstrom kiss.

something untranslatable;  
but somehow
understandable.

i am not afraid of heights, fights or small spaces.
i am not afraid of snakes, spiders or crocodiles.
what frightens me.
Is Everyone's Intangibility.
Doubtful, willingness to stay.
The fear that no matter what, they'll
All Leave Anyway.
I am afraid of my own and everyone else's
Temporality.

What will I have of you
to show
Why I love you?
What, can I raise in my cold hands
to summon your warmth
back into my blood?
To speak of you, like snowflakes
in space,
to feel the shape of a name in my mouth?
What part of my heart
can I show, to make others understand?
To who can I hold like you did,
in my fever dreams,
to breathe in my whispers and lock them away for rainy days?
To who can I give these tears that betray my love?

Please. What can you leave for me
Before you have to leave me?

Your hollow cheeks,
mirror hollow cheques.
Don't. Worry. No. More.
When the envelope hits the floor.
Remember the bill,
promised it wouldn't ****.

But who said it wouldn't hurt.

we all say that we have one, or two, or three.
"I'll Die For You, You For Me."
is that what they say?
blood debts and regrets.
brotherhood till their dying day.

many do not agree.
favourites and friendship? rarely ends evenly.
no one is loved more and less
is in reality, what they suggest.

until.
rain upon shaky roofs, repair and renew the rusted tiles,
i do not believe you.

until.
the stars bless the midsummer sun and illuminate me,
i do not believe you.

until.
i feel the kiss of sweet lilacs in my dreams
past loves lay and linger me with stories
eyes that i can find in this pitch blackness around me
I DO NOT BELIEVE YOU.

i want to believe you,
jealousy overcomes sense,
and is made blind by the untrue
a scapegoat, another expense.

Best Friends. we all say we have one
till you're Forgotten
they're Dust
and i
Done.

Cause
i hear your loving voice.
see your soothing smile

but cause they're not for me
i feel like crying for awhile.

but alls okay i guess
as long as you're aware.
That somehow somewhere i'm dying
but you don't really care.

cutthroat bed-warmer
i warned you.
to underhandedly procure
the duvet
in a dubious midnight heist
is a violation
of the “Pillow-Talk Three Truce”.
there are no second chances
in this
quilted coalition you concocted.
by daybreak, after a night of unrepentant tickling, kissing, or any some such
sleep disturbancing,
perhaps my arms will be laid down
in a show of piety.

to be the
little spoon by the afternoon.

Connections
lead to
infections
lead to
expectations
lead to
exceptions
lead to
misconceptions
leading to
A BROKEN MISMATCHED MESS
leading to
this farewell
request.

Flying on paper made airplanes
We thought we were free.
But we were just sitting on windowpanes, dreaming
Naive You and me.

“fear
he who reaches into
the core of a heart
and makes
its cavities
music.”

its dragging my feet through the snow in an attempt to make the journey easier for those behind me.
not answering the hardest question because there is someone somewhere milling it over and will suddenly understand and bring joy.
about the late nights looking over balconies for the lady who i'm sure will one day look back and wave because she's lonely.

but i've never thought about such things.

instead the sun brings with it smiles and the clouds rain and scowls but come umbrella banter or parasol proddings the day has to pass.
it has to.
there's a beauty somewhere within your eyes and looking into them a little too long has left me with one of those purple rings that never want to stay in sight.
i guess you hide in them too.

which of course is fine. its a little lonely being the one who only looks.

come with me one day to the hill where the ground turns to the sky and the tree i fail to understand how it hasn't fallen.
come with me to the river that once i fell in and prayed for gills to swim away and find the sea.
come with me to my room where i can make you a bit more real.

you have given me your memory. i will take you with me.

Candles;
alone in the rain
Snuffed out
simmering in shame.

Lust
i Love      You.
  Like

                                         Have              
                                    i    Want        You.
                                         Need                                        Can't
                                                                                 But i  Mustn't       You.
                                                                                            Tell

Re-reading past conversations
just to double check,
you dished out
the same words you'd get.

**and not feel at fault.