Dandelions drift dancing, by the dunes near my second home-
the beach filled with blood stones, plastic and paper all in one so quickly setting the tone-
not a picture to be seen-
though what it means to me.

The splitting of two things- so painful to watch
you and me blue hat sailors we leave our mark etched into ocean
breeze. Like the splitting of lips
blood covered bruised bones breaking-
the static buzz, sorry you're breaking up.

The blues seep through cracks as I rake the grass that is my thoughts
Dawn is coming and as the hour strikes my mind starts rushing through the channels in my brain, my thoughts can't be tamed so I cut the cause.

Duct tape the holes in my walls and shove the blue into jean pockets I'll eat it if possible. You will not come in!

Still the cool keeps coming. Dawn is coming and I can't stop it so I run. Out run it. Dark smothering lights and the white stays to fight but we know it looses.

The storm hasn't taken my left to right the sanity of mine. Don't ask me about the ride by dark I left before it was too late. At light I resurrected from sheets that are tangling needs.

So cover your eyes. Dawn will come to my demise, just to watch and cackle.

High heels tapping down tile corridors
the cool synthetic sticking to your skin-
pink. pink like the colour of your brain.
Like the pigment of you lips that speak.
Speak in echos. Reaching far and wide,
in fuzzy radio static.

Feet slide down timber halls
the clank of chain on chain round neck-
gold- gold. like the ideas in your mind.
Like the voices in your head, they yell.
Cryptic messages bellow. Reaching far and wide,
in blurry waves of light.

Darkness overblown by light
At night the world rolls into bed
by dawn we shall make things right again. So it says.

The bubbling of me and you arises
when two people come together and fight
I don't get what you see, in all this protection.
Money out the window, weapon conventions.

It seems to be an excuse to hang loose and chill
when really the world is burning, and we're itching to ****
our mind in the night, by day we change.

Dawn up, sky blue, no matter in the world, today is perfect. Silenced if you're hurting. Like darkness real problems get pushed to the side.

When I reach the door step of death
will I feel the warm embrace of nothing
so hollow its heavy so big I cry-
and what should I do? when I get there
dust dandruff off shoulders, wipe shoes on the face of welcome and warmth-
maybe i'll just be polite ring the doorbell
but the confronting of my own fate brings me no comfort
so instead i've decided to slip a note under the door.
Subtle but still assertive. I am waiting. I am here.

This anticipation it's killing me
it's so cliche and oh i'm not like the others
i'm so different you wouldn't even notice
the way my eyes look at everything but nothing.

The mountain of energy that sits in the hole of my chest
just spent thinking and thinking and tormenting itself. Boiling down, evaporating. Still it never runs out.

I wonder. Maybe i'm just making a big kafuffle. Maybe I make a scene. I will die and death is death, so I should be entitled to something. Just bust through the door not thinking. Right?
Maybe I should walk in yelling. Take me! it's time I guess?

Something about that seems right. To leave fighting. Though no one wants pain, and like they say never shoot the messenger.

I shall wait and see. I guess for now a small knock would suffice.

With outstretched arms they scream help me.
and with huff of hel and slap of p- the outstretched arms curl
backward never again to reach surface doesn't it **** you to think.
That we our arms calmly by our sides- we with limbs holding each other- we grabbing a coffee on the way to work. We. Not them.

With outstretched arms they scream save us!
and with the rattle of a gun across metal cage they go from quiet to silence. In a million years a revolutionary change will occur. Too late for my friends the outstretched arms. Too late.