rocked up on distant shores
agedness personified coos to heavenly heathens
heaving and hulling her breath
we all hold hands in the indefatigable oceanic states
beauty by fire; burn the sea to salt stone sacrifice

You ask me
why am I so loud

why does the sound boil
broil and thunder in my chest
rise up like the wave
vibrate in the soiled earth
pull up and out
strands of melancholy
rageful sound falling listlessly
in heavy breaths
why do my eyes widen
as the screams
leave my lips
and the suffocating noise
burns at your ears
why do my hands shake
my knees tremble under my own
inevitable fall, the weight
the heave
the haul
why do I shake so
why do my lips quiver
like the aching strings
of an odious and
thrumming violin
why does my heart pound
so loud
in sync with my voice

and when the sound drops away
and the room falls silent
and the penny drops
with a clatter
that disrupts the tension
why does the quiet fall so easily
and the blame so succinctly
and why does the shaking
stop
and the numbness
cloud over my eyes
and lips
like mists engulfing the
echo of the
waterfalls crash
against hell or high water
the pale flush of the drained noise
of the quiet within the storm
beckoned by the aching lightning that
holds no sound
and only sharp flashes
why do I sit so poised
legs curled elegantly
eyes half lidded as I let
it wash over you
the crusted horses of that
frothing tide
how can I be so serene
when the walls have trembled
in the wake of my
shaking shouts
in the corruption of my
dark and heady
complexion

am I truly there
to speak
or was it only
in the gallows
of my treacherous mind
to dream up such
madness
that I

girl of quiet

could speak up.

treading water.

Limbs stretched out
hopes of sunshine.

Mouth turned to the sun
open wide
flooding
air in lungs

swim for hours.

time does not bother me
as it
pounds
against my skull.

lie back and float into dreams
dry and safe.

I made it
another badge
to add
to my
collection.

the water churns
in a storm

paddle
arms swinging
legs pounding
at the brutal sea.

beg for land
beg for rest.

sea keeps churning
the sea knows no
patience or
mercy.

I am afraid
to close my eyes
to swim
to fall.

to sink into the ocean
and drown in my sleep.

half of me wants to die
the larger half is begging
for land.

people throw their floats

They hit hard
some don't catch
some float away.

the ones that I hold
ease my weight
lift me to the sea.

Sleeping feels safer
with floats
and pillows
no pounding heart to keep me.

it feels like there is someone there.

Swimming alone
on the grand ocean
outside my vision.

I have swum for so long
I never investigate the human sobs
guilt churns in my stomach.

I do not want to see them drown.

I am scared
they will
pull me
down.

Guilt bites
at
my wrist.

I keep treading water
my own small pocket of darkness.

Waiting for the sun to set.

static spacial raindrops
interspersed in my gloomsome mind
listen to the press of gravity
feel the natural release
i make music of these moments
and give my best
to my weekday beast

She held out a dainty hand,
Long dainty thinned and perched fingers filtering sunlight,
Shadows danced across the ground, twirling in the evening rays,
She looked out upon the horizon,
Staring at the magnificence that was the sun.

She had spied it a thousand times,
A thousand mornings every morning,
Trying to find something beautiful in her broken world,
To see the orange glow bleed through the trees so gloriously,
And to try and remember it for when she fell.

This day had seemed impossible all those months before,
When she had drowned,
Toppled down, patted in mud and grime,
Looking up from the well,
Trying to see out of the darkness that had consumed her.

Back then only thoughts of change and time had sated her,
Had paused her rein of terror,
Of pounding thoughts upon her thin ***** skull,
Drumming upon it like a redundant beat,
So repetitive and meaningless.

Her stance bowed ever so slightly forward in defiance,
In the holding of her breath,
And she gazed out from the hill,
Out into the sunlight,
No longer with the heavy want to jump.

She had waited endlessly for this day,
For this torturous frightening day,
When she could finally smile with truth,
Eyes shining with hope,
And look upon a new dawn.

She had waited for the darkness to end,
It had blown away with a subtle and elegant wave of a hand,
Barely noticeable, but oh so delightful,
For she was now freed from the chains that held her down,
Even if she knew it would come back,
For now was enough.

I am the swamp
viscous and visceral
my mind flooded with clogged thought
slow, I walk
slower, I change
this curled vine ever slow in its
strangulation
the swamp, a table mat of a face
dinner on my bones
breakfast at my fate
I kiss you, swamp-like
the frog's poisoned lips taste potent
and your smile, so green
it reminds me of my own flesh.

It hurts
to breathe
yet I still breathe
am I
a *******?

Every night
sleeping feels
like walking
to the edge
of the plank
and jumping off
Am I
brave?

I paint
with rouge
on my
flattened
torso
am I
an artist?

tense and well met
bitter sweet
like dark chocolate
and old friendly
enemies

capriciously switching the channel
left, right
right, right
left, right,
left, right,

the dull din of an ache we cannot suppress
it isn't hunger - that's already solved
we are all listless idle beings in the vacuum of excess
No, it tastes like fury
rising up like a single cloying voice in a night of thin breath
the lungs rattle like maracas
it sounds like music, a single note, a dull thud
sing, says the rising tension
dance, it taunts, even though it knows you've left your land legs behind
you can't walk in a world so uneven, all you've learnt is stumbling in the guise of fluid steps
it's a tango, truly
play the part
fake it 'til you make it

You like this switching,
left, right,
foot, wrist
sleep, death
an open sea, a dusty field
production and consumption,
the pinwheel rattles like your skeleton's breath and you howl at the moon,
it wanes now, but you know it longs to grow fat and plump once more
it can never decide, just like you, always growing, shrinking, gasping, inhaling, sleeping... sleeping...
Not sleeping never wins, for you always sleep in the end,
your time awake just waits for your eyes to blacken
asleep, you dream without limit, time slips away

left, right
open, shut

I never understood people who ran,
the burn in the lungs,
ache in the thighs,
pain and restless aftercare,

the people left behind,
the solemn faces that never cease,
the memories you can't escape.

I run into the night,
a wild blessed thing.

I pour the contents of my heart's whim onto paper
it shrivels with fear
beating like the chittering teeth of a freezing Eskimo
I poke it,
ever cautious,
with a long pointed stick
It shudders
flinches
jumps five whole feet
as if struck by lightning
I decide to replace the poor hairy beast
opening up my chest,
reconnecting all the loose wires,
and closing the whiny mechanical door.
The hinges squeal like hungry piglets
I burp, and say, "Ah, s'just heartburn."

She is darkest of fears
is walking monster
is teeth out to ****
is eyes out to burn
is claws
extended
over the
throat

and sometimes
it is
her
own
throat

she is ******
is doomed
is rammed and
roomed into
small shells of
her own
violation and
creation

she is
whiskered tigress
howling at the
moon because
its so
shiny and she
can only
pretend
she is not
monster thing
is not
suffering
is not
spluttering as
the waves come
in and
drown her
with the fury
of its own
fire

sometimes
she lets them
she lets them
shut the door
and walk
into her
dankly
darkly
room

she waits
for company
to sheath
her sword

it glitters
from the
ruby red tears
that drip
from her wrist
from her neck
from the inside
soles
of her
legs
and she
whispers
sorrows of the
moon
her own
sorrows
she sometimes
let the
rubies
shimmer
inside herself
sometimes
lets them out

she sometimes
bites
the jugular
of the
man with rubies
who
only
wants
to help.

She is
helpless
beast.

mucky plucky hardy souls
perfect puckered people without goals
mothers giving birth to gangling foals
daring doleful dancers with no roles
i am walking damnedly on hot coals.

A lie,
I say,
unwonted.

Iconoclast to
my own
stability.

I wish
I knew
when the
fire
reached my
own
fingers.

I wish
I knew
the smell
of
burnt
flesh.

I am
watching myself
tied to this
vengeful stake
and clapping,
slowly,
almost realising,
that I am
the
match.

This is where I am,
the music thrums like a heartbeat,
sudden brilliance spills from flickering rectangles,
my fingers beckon me further through the pipes.

There it sits,
a single rectangle,
the black letters blare out,
a decision of fate,
hell sings me closer,
I let my eyes gaze,

let me see
let me be

Not even a letter,
less than,
less than a breath,
a zip of light upon flickering boxes,
yet holds control over the push and pull of my tides,
I am but a slave to this unenveloped call

read on.

I am the truth hiding behind your lies,
the joke that pounds like dynamite in your skull,
the whispered presence that calls for salvation,
the darkened eyes of the boy next door who looks

so haunted.

I am the truth,
hiding within your smile,
within the
flecks of gold
and sparkles
in your eyes,
the smile that
never ceases
and
never stops,
the smile that
makes me
wonder what is

real enough.

I am the vaulted raindrop that hangs in your hair,
I cling to you, so tightly, my arms around your chest,
my cheekbone rests gentle on your
morning wrinkles
the eyes that do not wish
to open
the sleep that
makes you
frown
a worker's
grimace,
the drop that
adds to
your wrinkles
to your
sopping
hair that
never seems
to dry,
I stare from above your mountain,
taking vantage of your morning route,
listening to the
whispers
which you
brush to the side

they're not real.

Carmine
a flash flood of liquor
hacking coughs
and haunted head injuries

Let me sleep
honey
honey
saccharine, I don't care
just let my eyes close
and mind click down to a dull din

I can hear your thoughts
the walls
the clock
ants, running, running
I am the centre of a hivemind
buzz, buzz

cacophony of thought
avalanche of
miss you
sorry
didn't mean to
maybe
sorry

Outstretch arms,
an invitation that varies.

Chin under neck,
closure - of the door or the soul.

We sway like grass stems,
there is fragility in community - its trodden yet resilient.

The music thrums,
heart beats never end, mother, lover, heart monitor then...

Our eyes miss,
it is easier to look away than stare hoods and absence in the face.

But we dance,
forever more, in heavens above, the lovers never perish.

you can't outrun your mind
but you can escape in dreams
i'm tearfully wakeful
because i am afraid of
pleasant feelings
and undeserved
memories

I leave my window open
god
I never pray for
may creep inside
in the night
rescue me from
this figure
inside my skin.

It bears no name
my hollowed shell
for the best
as with a name
comes power
and more sway
over the tides of my fluttered grip
over the glint of such ceasing sharpness
seizing spluttered breaths
throwing down a maiden's gauntlet
for god fears this spectre
more than I
its tangibility precedes its face
and I feel the icy fingers
long before
I pray.

she's crawled back through the thin film of my skull
the fleshy thoughts made from home
and once
back when sun was smiles
when history writ itself for miles
and I could sing like divine treatises
I'd held her hand, our fingertips like petal lips
and now
all black, and blue, and cold
my shivered heart
my hungry wolfish brain
it starves for that from whence it came
and I picture, my beauty, my oldest soul
the moon burrowed beneath my skin
the sun, bright, and silken, and harsh
that had told me words I'd feared so oft
I remember my last year's love
and now
the only way we touch
through memory and old sentiments
I'll wait as long as she'll let me
until the pain
consumes
us both

Vindicated words
hang
like chandeliers
from the
cracked and
aching
ceiling

it groans
in protest
as the heavy
glass
glimmers
with deep
and
gloating
insincerity

the words
feel like
the most gently
brush of
poisonous
knuckles
against the
curve
of her
jaw

her teeth ache
and she
thinks
the cause
is not
one to
investigate

the poison
gently
romances
its
way
down the
train tracks
of her
pores
through the tunnel
of bridge
down
into the enamel
of
fluttering
chin

it seeps
into the
teeth that
clench

not in pain.

they can't feel it
yet.

the gums
quiver
as the
smile
pulls chapped lips
like small shards
of hard glass
have been wedged
between the valleys
of soft and subtle
skin.

smile.

doesn't hurt
to smile

the voice
that asks her
is not one
that truly
cares whether
she agrees

it is a voice
that only wishes
to let out its
sails
and
swim
on its own chords
to let the rumble
in its chest
disperse
from thought to fact
from the desire to the tangible

its only longing
is to be corporeal
to feel
to exist there
to be palpable
to be the humidity
that squeezes
ever so tightly
on the bone
until the blood
evacuates and
all that is left
is bleached and

alone

exist,
its easy
its painless
there is no cost.

the lips
never
promised
that they
told the
truth

lyrics from half-cherished poems
a pet who owns you half the time
a half-boy half-thing who ignores his omens
a life, a lie, a reach, a rhyme.

Stop personifying our oceans;
pollution set adraft like lopsided grins
the eye of the storm within the palm of a breaking seascape escape
the white horses, live and vivacious upon stormy greys

Stop humanizing the catastrophe;
thou should not subject
poor innocent ocean beasts
to the pain of humanity - have you no compassion for searing tides?

Darling,
a whispered
promise
that I hold
in my heart
burning bright
and blue
dim and
recognisable
the waking moon
smothered
by the bright
and choking
dawn.

Darling,
sheds my ears
of their layers
layers
onions
******>many
layers
sediments drifting
downstairs
the riverbank
churning of the sea
scream of my
fair ocean.

Darling,
ocean,
my fair
ocean.

Darling,
send goose-bumps
up my
arms
and
wrap bandages
around
the heavy rock
that sits
painful
and cracked
in my chest.

Darling,
remembered
through
telephone calls
hidden messages
coded pictures
his breath on her face
her smile on his ear
the electricity in their veins
the girl who sits
yellow coated
donned in raindrops
looking to the
artful a n d
looming
bell tower.

Darling,
a mournful song
is it
is he
is moving on
she could remember
when it
was not an eclipse
moon shedding
grey dust
against her cheekbones
hands drifting down
down
downstairs
d
o
w
n
to the bottom of her stomach
sending sparks
fireworks
whiskey breathless
mutters
of
Darling.

She tastes
of clichés
and words
that I
like to
swallow

her cherry
chapstick
lip gloss
that I can
still feel
against me
dried like
blood
against my
subtle skin

she had
breathed hot
in my ear
and I
could still
feel the
heat in
my
undulating
chest

she smelt
of summer
sun
that shone
in my
eyes and
blinded me
but I
got used
to

she let me
hold her
let me
see her
vulnerable
and open

she tasted

so good

Stigmatise me baby,
pull your words tight across my skin
until my heart aches
mouth burns
and ribs cave from the pressure.

Pull me under darling,
sweet fortress of my soul
burn it to the ground
take down my walls

wasn't like I needed them.

Turn it into a joke
holder of my heart,
make me chuckle
at my own breaking down
of the dam breaking
of the water flooding my lungs
of the dreams that
never stop

never stop baby.

Hold your tongue gorgeous,
while I fall
while I jump
while you question if I
was pushed
by you
keep your voice soft
whisper it to me
let it sink into my skin
let me scratch it off my skin

scratch you off.

Blame me sugar,
let the blame flood over in waves
the crashing
like my crashing
the car crashing
the city falling
the crashing of those waves on my cheek
like the almost slap
it doesn't hurt baby
hit me as hard as you can
do it baby
I dare you.

Its not like
I care
anymore
baby.

I tried
to die
last night
and its
the oddest
feeling
the next morning

as if doors
for a
whole life
I had
wished away
have opened
up again

I can dream
again
can cry a
thousand tears
can give
life
and
give death
I am
endless
possibilities
once more
even such
as
getting
better

I tried
to die
last night
and now
I have
to go
to school
and hide
my newest
scars

I don't
normally
do so
in an
obvious
spot but
I didn't
care
last night
I was
free
last night
my wings
were out
and open
I was
flying with
the peril
of my own
last night
I didn't
think
about
tomorrow
only those
last moments

I didn't
write a
note
I didn't
let anyone
know
except
the support
group of
machines
on the
internet

I tried
to die
last night
and now
I don't
know what
to do
with myself
I have
so much
time once
again
and the
pain is back
brimming
under the
surface

its always
there

I tried
to die
and this
morning
I remember
my reasons
and scoff
at my
own attempt

I flex
my wrist
and feel
the burn
of those
newly healed
scabs
glaring at
me
from the
trickling morning
light

the light
which
murmurs
in my
ear that
I have
survived
the night

I feel
so proud
and
ashamed
because every
second
living is
another
badge on my
sash
another sticker
added to
my growing chart
another birthday
cake
another hug
from my
dearest friend
another day
of chasing
those dreams
that are
still there

and it
lets me
know
that I
still have
fight
left

and it
lets me
know
that I
still have
someone
to fight.

we are all only lonely girls on park benches
legs entwined, swinging unbridled, as we peek through long shuttered lashes

the man swallowed in fading greys
he is prostate on that bench
peeking through bars of oak and endless views
he dares not seep from reality
gripped by wood

old aunt crazy cat
she was once such a man
engulfed in pipe dreams
and she doth peek back
through stems of newly birthed bench bamboo
waiting for lovers to enter their woods.

Likened to a wave,

the overhead cloud ringing out
mutterings of daffodils and burps of bees
the land resists, smooth and indefatigable,
persisting tirelessly,

rolls of sharpened grasses
rising up in an unheeded swarm
the breath halts in the chest
like a grand mistress unsheathing her sword,

we siphon off the dregs of courage
bottle out the bravery
there are mountains of battles to fight
and only a mind of resistance tonight.

Body thrums
A housed hive
Fingers climb
Sky's light

Some hold curses on their tongues,
Tight with stiff and achy arms around their waists,
Hugging themselves until they can't breathe and can only smile,
Eyes twinkling in uncertain inane gestures.

They aspire to think that two colours means two perspectives,
Equal sight from varied shades,
One blue, soft like the ocean, a reflection of the darkened sky,
One green, the colour of ripe apples and fresh air.
They see the world through tinted glasses,
Not red from a rose, believing lands to be green and sunlit,
Nor ***** grey like blooming storm clouds, perishing thoughts of joy,
A tinge of green and blue, calm and chaos, forever entwined in ying and yang.

Anarchy reins as an agent of peace, twisted in its convolution,
The more laid waste the more spared for time to come,
Chaos sits on their throne, eyes sparkling with insight,
Clothes ablaze in a fury matched only by that of a grieving mother.
It is the only predisposition that the world shall change,
Colours ever moving and mixing on the canvas of life,
Beauty melding to disgust, hate twirling to love, more declining to less,
A world is not a world without father Chaos at the helm, steering ships into rocky harbours.

What's the point of a film with no explosion at the end?

Cheese,
What do you want from me?
You sticky mouldy piece of flavour,
Literal illness conjectured into 'food',
Don't try to fool me with your pretty wrappers,
Tied in a bow of plastic and laudable fashion,
Cheddar, so generic I can barely taste it,
Mozzarella, like plastic blobs of mucus I strive to avoid,
Parmazon, so snooty, hair tied back, eyes dark and elegant.

Cheese,
You are the devil,
Dressed in white and smelly creams,
Topped as some sort of ostentatious filler,
I hope you burn in that oven,
Hope your skin melts in agony,
Until you have sullied my lunch,
And I have reason to sneer and throw you away.

What self respecting food group has holes?

Its just abysmal.

the ulcers in my stomach twist in tune with your lyricism,
my ears twitch, unbidden, heed your call of candy,
your words, my teeth ache as if you had scoured me dry,
I lick my lips to try and remember the taste,

a mystery would be if you had stayed,
your absence, rather, is a settlement of expectation,
I humble myself when lying down in your indentations,
the bed still holds the impressions of your body
- yet my memory fades

I squint my eyes in the dark,
so long, so tuned out, that they ache,
in the dark I can also see the exact shade of your eyes,
but come morn it fades to whispers.

passion upon a roaring sea;
sailors know the waves settle some
            but the storm must first pass;
            a predicted impossible.

insectoid eyes peer down the rabbit hole
there are infinite choices but one ending
we all know that whatever you chose, it.

impose,
& lose composure.
expose,
& forever foreclose.
repose,
& lose purpose.

Remember my darling,
imp,
there is no,
ex,
who can ever
re,
flect your true soul,
only jealous beggars
& bitter ghouls.

It is a four wheeled vehicle,
With sharp edges and soft seats,
Turning perpetually until the gas runs low,
The lights dim,
And the ceiling droops in despair.

Hands trace steamed windows,
Drawing stick figures and love hearts in the snow swept smoke,
Dotting 'i's in elegant script,
Tracing 'I love you' with insincere infatuation,
Puffing breath against the window...

So the hand-print of the one you love remains.

Cherry Blossoms bloom,
Fleeting and beautiful, gliding gently from the branches,
Pink curls softly drifting to the ground,
Velvet and salmon as they fall, clean and soft,
Only to land in muddied puddles.

They dance in the subtle moonlight,
Chins and smiles twirling with their hands,
Eyes sparkling with rain and tears,
Lips wetted from midnight kisses,
Fingers warm from interlaced palms and digits.

Summer mist pools around springtime hope,
Pulling large trees from the ground for them to walk under,
Cooing birds into life, spilling water down streams and into softly traced lips,
Shimmering under the surface,
A clearing of all that had been taken that Winter.

They part ways on a harsh Autumn's evening,
Leaves shedding like skin from the canopy,
Rain pounding with a bullet's finesse,
Puddles murky and grey from cigarette smoke,

Eyes dark and solemn.

“Goodbye my love”

I am treading water.

Limbs stretched out to catch hopes of sunshine.

Mouth turned to the sun, open wide, flooding air into my lungs.

Some days I could swim for hours.

The time does not bother me as it pounds against my skull.

At night I can simply lie back and float into dreams, dry and safe.

I made it... I would think, made it through that day, another badge to add to my collection.

Some days the water churns in a storm around me.

I paddle, arms swinging, legs pounding at the brutal sea.

I beg for land to hoist upon, I beg for rest for my weary mind.

And the sea keeps churning, because the sea knows no patience or mercy.

At night I am afraid to close my eyes.

I do not want to sink into the ocean and drown in my sleep.

Even if half of me wants to die, the larger half is begging for land.

Sometimes people throw their floats against me.

They hit me hard, I almost don't catch them, and some float away.

But the ones that I can hold onto make swimming so much easier.

Sleeping feels safer with a pillow under my head, and no pounding heart to keep me awake.

Sometimes it feels like there is someone there with me.

Swimming alone on the grand ocean, just outside my vision.

I have swum for so long with no company I never investigate the human sobs that sound from beyond the reef.

I do not want to see them drown.

I am scared they will pull me down with them.

So I just keep treading water in my own small pocket of darkness.

Waiting for the sun to set.

Mercy my mercurial madman,
thou t'will tame the timid treachery,
or one often offends others,
when we wilt wooden wisterias,
and assault an aviary's attachments,
don't dare die,
for friends from forever,
will,
never,
forget.

I can get
pretty cruel
but only
when provoked
and I try
not to.

You have been still for so long,
Too long,
Your muscles are stiff and unforgiving,
Heart slowed almost to a stop,
Eyes closed to keep them wet,
Throat parched and burning from the sun.

Your arms hang out as branches,
Catching rain and falling leaves as things drift down from the endless sky,
You see butterflies making nests in your hair,
Settling down on the flowers growing from the moss and dirt,
You can feel them, soft, delicate and leeching,
The pitter of their tiny feet on your brittle nose.

Your mind has drifted,
From today, to tomorrow, to hours, to galaxies far away,
Your heart beat is the only way to tell the time,
Night and day has abandoned you.
Friends and lost ancestors no longer visit your grave,
No longer plant flowers on your skin,
And you are alone and empty once more.

You stare,
Mesmerised,
With eyes that have not opened for years,
At the lone blue bird settled on your neck,
You wonder absently,
A buzzing at the back of your ears,
If the blue bird will hurt you,
You remember reading centuries ago that blue birds were carnivores,
Would you be baby food soon,
Would that be better than soft stone skin.

Its wings flutter with unearned grace,
As if it were born to fly,
And did not even have to try,
Like those people born happy,
With no trouble,
And you had thought they were only myths carved by wishers.
The bright stark blue clashes against your mossy green fingertips,
Its feathers ruffle in the faint wind you can no longer feel,
And the warmth of its beating heart makes tears pound at your eyelids.

You have not cried in millennia,
It seems,
But the bird is so beautiful.

Sunlight pours through open leaves above you,
The forest has grown heavy around you,
Rainfall no longer pools like icy seas around your toes,
The rain is eaten harshly by the soft soil,
A paradox of lift and drop, condense and fall,
You wonder if you have become part of the cycle,
Or if you are breaking it.

You can feel the stars watching you,
Burning bright suns spinning in infinity,
Shedding light upon darkness,
Even to your corner of the woods,
With solemn eyes and stiffened smiles,
They pity you,
For even they do not last for eternity.

Hold it
close
hold it
let your hands
shiver ever so
slightly
the tiny quake
like a ripple
of water
dropped against a
roaring sea
let your hands
clasp
grip tightly
you may fall
do not fear
grip tightly
your tenacity will
serve you well
do not forget
that revenge
is a dish
best served
with tears and
shaky
quaking
quivering
bitter-sweet smiles
hold it, baby
hold it close
right up
until it pools
under your shaking bones
under the bells that clang
so loud within the holster of your heart
the rattling of the skeleton's smile
so crooked and old
worn and torn
white, pristine teeth, that gape from that
holey
presence
hold it
tighter
until the tips of your fingers ache slightly
bruises bursting like cherry's blood under the skin
feel the pulse
the throb
the reminder that you are alive
you are alive, darling, hold it like a baby
a newborn
soft, darling, soft and full of possibilities
let it cry out for you
let it call out your name in garbled language
let the eyes open to look into your own

and then
let your fingers lax
your eyes flutter shut
half lid your lips to part, gently like the first opening blossom of the first springtime bud
let the child go

fall

down like water
from your tight embrace.

Deep breaths.

Its easy.

He was missing an arm,
It was gone,
Missing,
One morning,
Hacked away,
Blood seeping into his bed,
Hands... Hand trembling,
Shaking,
His whole body, bed, life...
Shaking.

It wasn't a clean cut,
He thought,
As he showered wearing clothes,
It was ragged,
Hacked off,
Unclean and not smooth,
There were scars up his arm,
As if they were reaching for his neck...

To cut his neck too.

He hadn't cried yet,
He couldn't,
His eyes were dry but he was screaming inside,
He turned to liquor,
And it burned like fire down his throat,
Turned to ****,
And made his stomach swing like a metronome,
And head quieten for a while.

It all wore off too soon.

He hadn't slept in weeks,
It felt like weeks,
Minutes branded into his skull,
Tattoos of dates on his arms... arm.

He always forget his arm was missing,
Always forgot he would never see it again,
It didn't seem real,
Felt forced and... broken,
Like he couldn't walk,
Couldn't move a muscle,
Almost afraid he would lose it too.

He didn't leave the house,
Windows rattled ominously,
Fridge screeched emptily,
Bed creaked like a child's scream,
A wail,
A sob,
Broken and complete and so darkly mesmerising.

He thought he would starve,
That his stomach would cave in from the inside,
Walls would tremble in fluctuating burns and hisses,
Eyes rolled back into his head,
Tongue out in disgrace,

Arm. Missing.

He felt like he had lost a limb,
When he had picked up that phone,
Felt plastic against his ear,
The quietened words of concern,
And halting sentence.

Sulphur burned his throat black,
Rubber smelt better than his rotting arm,
Blood looked better than wine.

“She is dead.”

It felt like he was missing a limb.

Perhaps it is fated,
has it not always seemed so,
that I would be here
you be there
and the trees continue on their terrible voyuerism.

Perhaps it was always meant to be,
the smothered doubt we carry,
the sights we set to see,
but never seem to absorb,
like oil cruising on water.

Perhaps I have it wrong,
this song of mine which plays like a record,
and the record is not broken,
but I play it anyway,
over and over until the taste hangs heavy on my tongue.

Words grow stale like bread,
it doesn't take long.

Perhaps I have been walking in a way that is not walking,
skipping past the important parts,
jumping over the things that matter,
standing still in the dark puddles of my youth,
staring at you from afar.

Perhaps I truly am the villain of this movie,
deluded to think I have a semblance of good,
only to be consumed by the knowledge,
lies,
that I am the toxic entity that has ruined this life of mine.

skating on a thin shine of ice,
clean metal reflects only sharp eyes,
we know not how to skate,

but we know how to fly.

You wonder,
ears curled in on themselves like hunched over drunkards,
when your art became objects.

The artifacts hang,
from frayed skeleton string,
stretched and whittled like string-bean veins.

Your hand itches,
like distilled water as thunder growls overhead,
and you know it is reaching for a pen.

No longer,
can you stare into the mirrored engravings,
and see fleshed out  words.

Scant nothings,
hum their prayers up into the sky,
but you do not follow.

There is,
time for you yet,
and art is not reality.

Poems can't hold the pounds of words I want to spill
It's absorbed all the linguists it can take by now
I've got nothing left, nothing good
My gums hurt, my beds hotly humid,
I'm weighed down, the rage has abandoned me once more,
I can't cope like this, when even my coping tastes like defeat.

I stay home and sty my own attempts to leave
I'm out on a mission to block all the exits
like the opposite of a safety sergeant
and the flames are crawling up the walls
like assassins in their pitch black suits of night
and I can't breathe in this air while I'm burning my own mask.

Wetted cheeks chafe her skin,
tears pull agony breathless from her chest
the salty taste of the
ocean in her heart
reddened bruised blushes
upon her arched bones
the tang that
tastes so
delectable

but at what cost

the trade of her heart,
as it pounds
like many drums
in her
open cavities
the curled
elf ears
that quiver with her
unused shaky
smiles
the quiet
tremble
of her lips
and eyes that shine
with that wetness
as she

as she

she does not cry,
she is warrior
she is princess
she is
steel bars
bent and curled
malliable
around her
crescent arms
that hold her together
she is
whole
holy
she is
moonlight upon
the
antidote of
her sickness
the shedding of
skin
the snake's bark
and the
brown mercury
of that
sweet
and
tangy

tear

that
she is torn
she tears
it
breaks
under her
calloused
fingers
nails pry
at the
secrets
written on the
undersides
of her limbs

it is not skin
it is not pain
it is not hers

it is not tears
that she
wrenches
from her
breathless
chest

she is

not

teary.