The night
belongs
to poets
and mad men
and perhaps
I am *both.

I have too many thoughts
A weight in my mind
A weight in my body
A weight in my soul
Tears run paths undiscovered, finding new nooks and crannies
That I didn't know existed
Until filled with Insecurity
Write out the pain
Write out the hurt
Write out the worry
I have too many thoughts

I dive in deeper for you,
swept away in our microcosm.
Fragments of lost loves
dissolve on my tongue,
evaporating into the dark
as your words soak into my skin.
And all I can think of is you,
My hand in yours
My head on your shoulder
Your restless knees tapping
in time with my heart beat.
And I know I can’t be saved
when nothing else compares
to being next to you.
You're all I need to breathe.

Feeling useless,
ugly hues
colouring in,
yellowing bruise
happy days
thoughts are wistful
mirrors lie
bitter fistful
saddened eyes
in ghost camera shots
wanted: ‘beautiful’
connect the dots
minds a scramble
at mirrors perception
feeling lonely
life's deception.
undeserving
of affection
can’t comprehend
seek perfection
take a breath
smile and hide
the bottled fear
you keep inside
life is short
accept the flaws
love yourself
Retract the claws.

With oceans in my lungs
I can barley breathe a word.
The surface of my thoughts,
just seem so far away.

The world passes me by unnoticed
I’m savouring the way you looked
before you knew.
I can’t stop crying.
You looked so gorgeous tonight
i wanted nothing more than to kiss you.
but i walked away.
head in your hands.
I wearily drive home, the lollipop you bought
sitting in my lap, you know they’re my favourite.
I didn’t want to leave.
But i had too.
Theres a girl falling for a young boy tonight,
wanting nothing more than to hold his hand
But She’s alone.
And He’s gone.

“I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more grey."

Everyone feels like they don’t belong,
Sometimes.
But you do.
Even though the pain feels all too real,
You belong, and you will lean and you will heal.

Sometimes I feel Invisible
So utterly alone,
A miserable existence
Where no place feels like home.
That dark and musty halo
Always hangs above my head,
Pushing deeper into me
So harsh my sunshine bled.
Now reality is clearer
It's written in my veins,
Tattooed on my heart,
Binding me with chains.
And so onto this empty page
Is where my thoughts reside,
My ink is my emotion
And behind my pen, I hide.

I walk towards the light, the darkness cutting off both sections of the house, this section as if a corridor from one life to another is obscured, it only partly touches, caresses, the orange skin folds of the chair. The smell of a faint dinner, laughing, arguing across the table hangs like a cloud in the room which only moments before was bustling with life and soft eye rolling glances. But all of that is gone now turned off with the flick of a switch. I walk towards the light which is open and safe, walking faster i can see it glistening and glowing and bursting into a million suns scattered upon the light blue walls, as though i am god seeing the beginning of creation for the first time. My ball of light flicking, touching everything that it comes into contact with, lighting up the darkness that was ever so slowly creeping in, poisoning the world with its shadows. This dream like state keeps me sane. The numbness usually encloses any spark of light that might touch my world. But some memories were so filled with clarity at times i swore they were real, and maybe they were, once. I liked to think so, that in this dark world that was so intent on constricting and confining there was once some good. I slipped back into my vidid imagination, the black pit. Intentionally switched off and entered back into my thoughts, hopes and dreams with the last crack of reality sealing itself up behind me, and i smiled.

Night, At Night i sit.

She turns in the bed and sleeps all expression in her soft face gone, 
the storm brews in the distance, dream catchers rustle in the breeze.
Memories of a distant hotel bar burn in my mind.
Drinks, soft plush velvet in which feet sank, the smell of perfume.
 A silent tear falls down my cheek, the floorboards don't creek, only the dream catchers watchful hands stand protectively against the window closest to her.
The soft feathers almost brush her face, as if standing guard over the demons that often escape leaving her in a sweating nightmare.

Night, at Night i stand.

The rocking chair falls forwards and catching itself slides back into reality, the cot now takes place of the corner as fatherhood now takes mine.
The dream catchers sigh can be heard now guarding the little precious package fast asleep in a colourful world.

Night, at Night i pace,

waiting for the car lights signaling the package has returned to the sender.
My words are nothing but suddenly seem to spill over into the room in black and white, i bow my head and she still sleeps, unaware of my silent suffering.
The catcher now working it's magic.

Night, at Night i sleep.

She turns to face me and in that moment we both know.
I smile which catches her off guard.
I clasp her aged wrinkled hands and whisper words of a distant hotel bar and drinks leading us through this life.
I know the dream catchers eye watches over me now, we both lay there, contented, and as we parted from this world i saw the hands of the catcher.
His face old and weathered. He offered us his hands, and pulled us gently into the rocking lullaby of his world.

He oozes confidence and importance,
each word uttered, weighted
by apprehensive travellers,
aluminising the dark with each footstep.

He is a silent shadow of protection,
perfect and full, a beaming white angel
amongst a dotted sky of night blue ink,
bleeding on out on his paper white face.

He mesmerises me with his stares,
tamed and direct i fall in awe at my feet.
Within cotton clouds and deep forest shades
his velvet black eyes, are all i could want.

My monsters crushed me
with their unsuspecting weight
hidden deep within the sadness
of my ever changing eyes
I wouldn’t expect most to understand
this constant, pressing heat
that has the power to take away
the beauty of a morning sunrise
But to be alone was what i knew
with secrets i was dying to say
with my burning heart desperate
for you to knee **** me back
to clear skies and brighter mornings
where i'll sing softly to myself
not wanting to speak my thoughts
to another soul, but you.
This perception might be distorted
by feelings and ‘the word’
that has not yet crossed our lips
as if its some sacred creed.
But i am a desperate writer
as many of us are, just
trying to convey thoughts
of a particularly long night,
where all i really want,
is to be next to you.

On those nights where you sit and talk,
when the crisp air surrounds you,
when everything seems at peace
You open yourself up in a way you hadn't before.
There is no need to hide.
Act as if there is no judgement,
but only your soul and the stars.

Grasping at the air and your gone, like a whisper in my mind or my breath on a foggy morning. It lingers for a while, surrounding my head,
Like a pure cloud of delusion, a bubble of insecurities and hopes and desires and dreams and then it's gone, Like the flicker of a candle blown out by a child in an adult world, run away with the Humm of your breath, escaping into the night.
It's like quicksand running through my fingers, and I can see my time clock always feeling like it's running out, it's like a butterfly dancing into the deepest corners of my mind, running through a river of emotions and bursting through my
Mouth in a babble of awkward communication, freely flowing with everything that's been bottled
corked up and already set adrift in some running thought. All my
Mouth can conjure is a free flowing eclipse dabbed with bubbles of truth floating away to the surface of my sharp tounge.  And as the negativity cascades around me like a cloak of invisible emotion, the river runs from
my soul through my eyes, and the pain of crashing waves batters against my throbbing heart just willing you to take me in your arms, and plant a kiss on my forehead and tell me everything will Work out. But instead you're gone, like a whisper in my mind or my breath on this particularly foggy morning, and despite my frequent intakes and the river that won't stop running, I know that at the end of the day, that's all you wanted from me too.

I felt death wandering in my brain
Marching to a small hand drum,
As melancholy people crowd  
Beating till my mind was numb.
And in its very grip I was
A state of mindless, echoing pain
A Solitary hum of clouds
With nothing left to give or gain.
Rain was crashing in my eyes
And hope was hard to find
Hard knot ties were losing grip
And fate was dark disguise,
And within this struggle a feeling of
Being rushed towards the ground,
Without anyone to catch your fall
Or to hear you make a sound.
Love and loss come hand in hand
And Sometimes it's hard to see,
Why someone would put so much faith
In a person like me.

writers block;
sometimes pain
can’t be written.

The best kind of kiss
Is one that has been exchanged
a thousand times between eyes,
before the lips have even met.

My heads underwater,
in a sea of salty tears.
Wash down stained cheeks;
shaky hands
are heavy to push them away.
Come on..
try to breathe easy..
Stomach tightens in crying cramps,
begging for an escape
to feel something good.
Dark ringed eyes tell more stories
than a 100 year old tree.
Try to breathe easy..
I grab a pen
I grab some paper
and I write
I write words to calm the soul
write write write write

smoothing scribbling sounds

tears only exchange hellos
on intervals now.

The greatest gift that i can give,
is my mind and my pen.

My mother gathered me on her knee
and oh the stories i would hear
“The prince slay’d the beast his eyes white 
and strained, his inevitable end was near”

“The fair damsel had long golden hair
her face as pale as snow.
The prince took home the beautiful maid”
of course knighthood would be bestowed. 

They would wander the soft green hills together
wanting soon to be wed,
They softly reached the large wooden door
And drank from the pool of red. 

Oh how merry they’d seem as man and wife
with his dark hair and her light skin.
Mother closed the book, the light turned off
and my slumber enclosed within.


I wandered the soft green hills alone
recalling a story once told
Of princes and dragons with golden flare
my mind once easy to mould.

Dead sheep from a wolf’s mouth i pass
the preacher stood in my midst
i walked right by, not a word to spare
his white strained eyes i did resist.

As i passed the church where grass once grew
dark graves, and candle lit light
but not a glance i threw to its golden prince
not awed in it’s holy sight.

And finally
she began to breathe.
And live.
In every moment.
In every place.
Trying to find a path
where goodbyes
were hard to come by.
And suddenly,
I was in love with life,
for the first time
in a long time
everything
was inspired.

We are running.
Hearts beating faster, sweat running down my forehead, your hand and the moon my guide.
We are strange.
Why don’t we mould patterns, movements and air with our lips and words. Together we are unpredictable and everything and anything seems possible.
We are destructive.
Lost aimlessly wandering, swept away under this drug. Drunk off your sent and the way your eyes stare into mine.
We are addicted.
Our breath is our muse, touching nature and praying for something beautiful. Two half's of a whole, cliched but true.
We are extraordinary.
And it could all end, as it began, with a metaphor and some words.
But, we are terminal.
For now at least let me stay here, and wonder if we could control waves or the moon. Take my hand, and we can.
We are running.

you were you
and I was me
we were friends
and would always be
and then I was yours
before I knew
that you would always
been mine too