The time will pass,
You will have love,
There will be more sunlight,
You are still a part of the world despite.

Boredom is a thing made of lavender,
And rain, and bad music,
Sleep it off, wait it out,
There is never enough time,
To waste.

I want you to know me like this:
Tying me up, by my
wrists and my ankles, splayed, medical,
Cold metal tools to the skin,
Cut me open and see
My insides constructed, not
Skilfully, but carefully,
The artificial parts are clean,
And crying to be known again.

You look exactly the same to me,
Eyes wide,
Some strong conviction,
Painting the features,
Open mouth, speaking the same words,
Over and over,
“Love, I want to go home”
And I’ll say,
There isn’t a place like that,
Anywhere in sight.

My heart has never beat so fast,
Inside this hollow chest,
I think I might die,
I think I might die.

There, right there,
that was the future I wanted,
and you glowing like moonlight,
with the most beautiful mind,
The world and all of it's crevices,
are making you up,
not me, this time.

There is a boy in me determined not to live,
Determined to be sick,
He claws and rages against my insides,
My very own soft animal,
I know,
I know,
I know,
What we have is temporary,
And meeting it with the most undying love,
Is the only answer I’ll get,
But he’s hurting me, and god,
Do I want to take a handful,
Of that hair and
Make him understand I have power.
But the boy is me,
And looking in,
At the scene,
All you see is a flailing emulsion of flesh,
Hell bent on purifying itself,
No,
No,
Meeting it all with the most undying love.

I first met her in a sunflower
feild,
Filled with sunshine and bugs,
In the tall stems,
She lifted up the corners of her mouth,
At everyone,
And me,
I tried to scream at her, and hit her with my soft fists,
But she took them in her hands instead,
And she was running too fast to hear me,
Or even care.

I wanted to see your blood,
In the mirror,
You dancing,
And the soft sweat,
Of summer,
Making you shine,
Look at yourself,
And then look at the stars,
Bend over the fist,
Pressed right between,
Purple kissed ribs,
Bruising like an answer,
Breathing like an animal in death,
Watching you curl up,
In worship,
Or resting, in the shade,
Of branches hiding,
A sun breaking, with the glow,
Being loved, like that.

Life moves fast, life moves
very rapidly.
when I ask my father what to do with my hands,
he repeats back to me the story of my mistakes,
in which nothing gets done.
He tells me that my habit of staying inside on sunny days,
is a hereditary flaw,
and I copy his movements and gestures.

I take to sleeping for entire days,
I eat like a prince,
even my eyes encourage feasting.
I mistakenly call the sky by your name,
and it sounds beautiful on my tongue.

On this earth, I exist,
Weeping into the willow of these ten fingers,
No more.
To be so safe and so sad,
And if the summer sends me sun,
Then I say try your best,
Because even gravity and me,
Fall to the same faults,
Some icarus melting,
The wings that spread from under the shoulder.
We look for what we do not have,
And I am crying over truth 60 times a minute,
Making the woman with the cigarette dance,
I’ve never been an emotional person.
I have been asked - do I even feel at all?
It is a question in me
In this moment,
We are briefly beautiful.

Old machine, my heart,
Tastes blood, tastes hurt,
You were before,
You are after,
A part of you, beats faster,
Take me home,
Give it the answer,
Cheap meaning,
Real feeling,
The thrill of loneliness,
Pulls me in,
Like the moon pulls,
At the ocean,
Overcomes in waves,
Let it rinse me down,
Make me pure,
Make me found.

Hack at the flesh,
A feast,
Left out for you,
Flayed myself right there
Let the skin fall,
From the bones,
See me right down to the marrow.
Stamp dirt into forgotten parts,
You were dancing,
A blood smeared face, is watching you,
Now, leaving,
Glancing over your clean shoulder at
The naked fool,
Lying arms crossed.

It is fun talking,
Though I am always loosing,
Winning tastes bitter.

You will never be as lovely as you are now,
Lonely and brushing, your fingers against the rough hands of life,
It’s waiting behind for you despite.

Your avocado stones, and sunflower seeds,
Your old carpets,
Being too cold, and not trusting the dishes,
Are they clean?
Stained by the noodles your sister keeps eating,
And your dog that I don't like,
The way nothing seems to get to you,
But I know you feel but you won't talk about it,
I talk then,
But I wish you would tell me,
Flower eyes,
Your colour is yellow now,
Scrawls on my picture of your brain,
Or your eye, on my wall,
No one understands it,
Do you?
Do you need me?

We love you fighting,
fists up all dull eyed,
we love you still, spitting
life out like fire breath,
to thaw our skin,
tell us home is a fireplace
and you are sticking
your hand right in
to feel its warmth.

The poet with a rusty brain,
Cold metal submits to colour, and the rain
that falls inside,
The cogs and gears stopped moving,
Held still,
By Burnt Ochre,
And water thoughts - rushing, drowning, singing.

Pull out the teeth,
Of the dog you raised,
Promise to be gentle,
This sick freak,
Smelling of ****,
Biting your hand,
When you do it,
The blood where the gums hit the skin,
The blood,
In the fur,
And I said
Love is pain,
it must be,
If this is the way you choose to live,
And you want it,
An animal in your house.

Only asked to be know,
The insect crawled,
The warm sun,
And the ripe fruit,
Loving all like it was a sickness,
I know, when I go,
To you or to the end,
All that will be left,
Are the parts of me,
That were eaten.

What’s lived and loved has died as well as you and me,
And dust returns to dust,
Pain is easy,
Moving and alive.

Tranquil panic, like the newborn fawn,
its you and this lonely eye, the storm,
its you quaking with the sudden calm,
clutching at yourself, the strings
that build you up turned lax,
the chord that shoots the arrow is let go,
soul flooding your entire material body.
A torrential tide is mine, is you
smiling with wet cheeks, a torn shirt
sleeve where teeth
ripped you open, but failed in spite of
love to pierce the body.

Mouthing silently, your clean word song,
that draws us in, you're saying
"mine mine mine", your shaking hand,
is reaching fearfully for what it truly wants,
and flesh flowed flesh,
an eye to mine, with glances uttering,
the truth you see, the whirling violence
coming closer now, and bend,
yourself, breaking backwards to the pull,
sweep upwards here,
and turn to heavenly creatures,
you, a never-ending flight,
spread wings and tear the gentle sky.

What you wanted,
Was to be known,
And I met you,
Like the end of a summer,
Like the start of something dead,
An entirety to feast on,
It was the right way to live.

The universe moves and breathes around me,
Limitless possibilities,
and here I am,
Awkward and shaky,
Failing at communicating,
Squeeze the stone till it bleeds,
Love everyone not quite enough,
Meet them right, keep them wrong,
I am not worth possessing,
Breathing in the water,
The way it crashes into me,
So many people, their feelings messy and obvious,
Haphazardly hidden,
No one can figure it out, but we’re all here trying,
Scream into the oblivion,
That we are worth existing,
So much beauty all at once,
Falling into my split iris,
I am not a person, I am a collection,
Of time crushed into a body,
That thick smell after rain, or the way the sky washes over us,
Created something,
And everyone called it a person.

To be given like that,
This strange movement,
Away from you, away from watching
What peace was,
Standing in the middle of a crowd,
And being known by no one.

Dead flowers,
Leftovers from the sudden greed,
That beauty brings,
A plastic dinosaur,
Bending it’s neck over the chessboard,
Who to change, who to change.

I will keep every good thing that’s ever been brought to me,
And bury it, inside,
Until I overflow,
With light.

Nothing has ever been so pretty
As sunlight tangled in green leaves
Spreading like fingers
Over the scar of the road
I am not strong
I am not used to love

Stranger,
Don't say you're afraid,
Not to be known,
Hope cove or a garden or anything,
Maybe a future,
Always tell them,
I come to you, big and autumn and empty,
Collecting rocks for these tin shelves, open the skin,
Now and then,
The bone compartments,
You are only a moment,
You are me, my mind,
Has made you,
Dance in the sunless alcoves,
This could be anything.

Name the structure,
It is your own skin,
Arms beautiful, obtruding
There’s this old heart,
Eating at the centre,
Shaking, with ecstasy and fear,
I don’t want to be so young,
To endure the spectacle of,
Myself constructed,
A home inside of me,
A whole village, and every inhabitant,
Guilty,
Breaking the sticks off my back,
And standing new,
Unafraid, splinters, dug into soft palms,
Holding the body.

Yesterday when my nerves and brain were fried
By the sun,
And we all yelled at eachother in happiness because it hurts when your alone for such a long time,
We ran all around the burning town,
And later,
The full moon and the smoke from the chimney,
Swallowed us whole

she absolutely adores you

You, loving this like your own face,
bearing your skin to the crowd,
to be feared and entirely known,
to miss the change,
we were all holding onto the moment.

And me,
joining the fray,
Gathered round,
This kitchen table,
To grow full with meaning.

So if I come to you,
Loud and raw and stupid,
Would you still love me?
I paint myself white, with words, with words,
Blood rushed to the cheeks,
He said I taste bitter, under the sweet skin,
And I thought,
I don’t know how to be,
The person I thought I would be when I was five anymore,
When everything was given,
I’m sorry I’m trying to love,
Ruthlessly, and thoughtlessly,
Let me live, like no one has ever lived before.

An amateurish drawing,  
the sinews, the vibrant
and shuddering thing
of human bodies break into existence.
I ask you where is the heart?
   It is my arms like sunlight,
          It is the palm of my hand,
If I had to take a guess.

The solitary land cannot hold us,
Shaking with relentless intake of breath,
                            Exoskeleton earth,
                                    Our god, four hands.

Alone in an empty cinema,
Only the projection,
Of talking heads,
That live and die perfectly,
Again and again, for the seats, sitting all alone,
When the world is framed like a painting,
You fall in love with its sprawling, open flaws.
Put out to be discovered.

Still I stand here in my victory,
I have speared love through the heart,
It is gone from me entirely,
Now I am become whole,
Panting, animal and clean,
Freed from feeling.
Fled from me,
Shaking, convulsing,
Now love's body lies heavy on my back.

Pencil skin, the time won’t scare me, no - hah, I mean - stick a song into your pretty ear and what do you get? That’s just about it, make something of it at least. All of this, time wasting, pen caps missing,  I don’t need an education I need oblivion on a friday. And this house is safe enough, pull back the covers and yell - i’ll leave the lights on. We don’t like each other. But we love each other. Walk past your window frown face, white paint. I don’t need anyone but myself. It’s not as if anyone else can ever know? Tick tac’s the sage stuffed heart thing -that **** is not mine - no I don’t need blood I’ll spill it. Please god just bring me some apple juice and let me walk into this photograph, can I wear vests in the summer this time round. I don’t think so - no pretty girl for you no sir no sir. It’s not as if I was given something and it was taken away, it’s that I thought of it -is that worse? No, the movies just make me more afraid. Nothings going to fix this. But I love you very much and always, I love you very much. It’s a kiss goodnight with a quick fist and I’ll make tea or something - you’ll see.

I find myself here,
Irreversibly attached to one body,
Tearing at the flesh of the ocean,
On fire and silently praying,
That this time,
It opens for me.

That was me in the moment gone bland with the colour
of petrol wash,
clinging to the skin,

city bear me,
tell me I'm still a child,
tell me I have a long way, to go,
before I loose the light,
glinting pupils,
a thrill,
caused by stupidity.

Looking blindly,
strung out like sunlight,
through dirt,
distorting the view,
transitory spaces, again,
I'm not coming home.
Hand me the map to changing,
into myself,
despite the scars,
that break with the stretching of skin.

Despite your eyes,
looking right through,
me, ghostly apparition,
with no insides to parade,
weaving performance,
Joking, joking,
I will bow to no one.

Big wide open mouth,
The skin is stretched
Trying to breathe with all those teeth,
Inhaling my whole sky,

It (is me it) is not the same alone,
Be careful to catch your breath
Before you,
Eat your fill,

Not knowing how to be anything else,
But hungry.

And I go just as deep as the ocean don’t I.
Drowning in Irony
But I picture,
The bottom,

Somewhere warm and quiet,
I can speak a new language
I write books, maybe they get read maybe they don’t but I’m writing,
At home.

On the way down I will be
Dreaming of my own end,
And it is,
So quick to catch,
The wings of the thing,
Tangled between my blue fingers.

Some truth of life I am edging towards,
A heartbeat,
Like the infinity of this black hole, wearing my own molecules,
Dark cavity in my chest,
What is it to have this skin, stretch,
The borders of some strange breaking,
These waves are all over me, and I just think that one day, I will drown in it,
Is grief not love persisting?
Shield yourself from a stabbing monotony,
And don’t let it fall,
This charade, this game, this bet on your instinct,
I was born into a body with a fist full of fear and something to loose,
Only myself.

I always said my skin meant nothing to me,
Lonely *****,
What does it do? Homeostasis fossilised everything. That's what,
Lets keep this romance with monotony going,
String the waltz, tie the wrists,
I am chasing it, I play the part,
To be a fool,
To be everything everywhere all of the time.

Beauty torn,
Beauty spinning,
In my minds eye,
Shaking form, metamorphic,

Rolling back into the sky,
Heaving body, admittance,
Heavenly creatures, heavenly,

Apparitions to be beloved,
We believed,
Hold me close, like I’m bleeding out in your arms,
Tell me I’m one of the good ones,
That I’ll fly higher than Icarus ever dreamed.

Go home to softness,
to that feeling,
of waste, and the thick glow,
of light, cold,
on the ceiling,
don't get up for anything.
The future is only an idea.

Feeling my body,
turn over again,
fresh green,
in the May leaves,
a newness seeks you out,
it is asking,
to be held.

Elijah's burning body meant victory,
So why shouldn't this,
Flat and still,
Quiet thing, fed well,
Though never swallowing,
Gain the same?
After all life is green,
And animates it just once,
With a sudden growth grasping each of its limbs,
And flinging it into the dancing world.
There a blank face adorns the body,
Which knows love,
Rather a pig happy,
It says, rather a pig happy,
And that is enough.

There goes the electricity,
Racing down burning neurones,
Snaps at the synapse,
What do we have to loose?
There are so many pathways to choose from,
I have built this body,
A stranger.

I don’t want you to look in,
I don’t want you to see me changing,
I cannot bear my shame with dignity,
My body won’t fit under the table,
Known tenderness is devastating.

I will become a great insect,
With a hard shell,
I will tune myself in,
To the room, and rub my
Wings together.

No, I’m not doing anything,
With all this time and all the rosemary in your eyes,
Or my eyes,
One day I will live in Italy,
And I will have a garden,
With herbs and clementines, I know all about it,
I’m an expert because I see it in my dreams, and in fact three of a seven minute video,
Like jellyfish are so old,
Floating around in cosmic soup,
How are you today?
I am alive, I think I am alive,
Why do you get up in the morning?
Will you tell me all about it, how you spend all your time,
If you cook at home or get takeout,
Do you even eat at all? Something,
Like this, makes us human,
What did you choose to put in your box, if you had a box,
Who will lead the talk on you, who will put the music over your end credits, who will choose the shot that lingers,
Who will write to you my darling on the first pages,
It’s your book,
For my sons, for my lovers, for my dog,
The house will be shady, and older than me,
A mystery of how many people have breathed the same air as I have,
I see the lines that time,
Has a habit of tracing.

The moon was ours,
To adore,
Crouched alone in the sheets,
Like some unholy ghost,
We have studied,
Every crater it had to offer,
The scars left by collisions,
Someone you love going away, forever,
And the light washed dull,
The colour of shame,
We were so silent,
In our isolation,
Someone you love, looking
To the same feeling,
Like I said, it was ours.

For the accumulating mass of noise,
You brought,
Your face - bright with tears, clean with sunlight,
You were going to be,
That was the promise,
You were going to live,
Some heaven, ascension into,
A cleaner kind of pain.