Boyish, boyish boy
So typical, you play guitar
The boring way
The boy way
The want my body way
You’re not the first to make me compromise
My learning with my ****
Brown eyes scoping Italy
Over my thighs, the ones you snap
Compare to yours
Knowing **** well I tried to starve them E string size.
You’ve got no lips
I’m kissing your cupids bow
Foul, foul morning breath
You take pride in not smelling
But you smell like rotting meat
Meat with hair, too much hair
Even on the back I’m supposed to scratch
And you call me awkward
Blood on my chest
I don’t know how you ******* dare
Grab my breast one more time
I’ll ******* **** you
******* boy.

The fairy times
We flap our arms like wings
We take off
Like the plane of other worlds
The plane that gives my ears pain.

Dreams I only dream here
Beds don’t give me imagination
Don’t make my legs shake
I read about snakes, tattoos of snakes,
Speaking of snakes back home

I admit I’ve never seen mountains before
The lift to the clouds
Is another dream but less pointless
It suits me, it engulfs me
It has me for breakfast left out on the road

It’s a walk in heaven
Bends, mends to my heart
Looking for the roots of my imprisonment
I find myself growing with the lilacs
Out of the belly of the cow.

Clarinets, harps, cellos
Delicate fingers on delicate strings
Snapping any moment
I want to be rough, want to be heard
My tongue is stolen, hands in my heart
Living there temporarily
While me, floating outside of my body,
Go from flat to flat
Man to man, woman to woman
Lesson to lesson
As I don’t know what to learn
And working is too disastrous for all concerned
I sing to ease the pain
I play to cure my brain.

Ghosts brush their fingers on ours
As if we wouldn’t notice
As if we wouldn’t be scared.
Sometimes I feel like I’m one of them
Or their enemy - robotic
Flashing, slurring, whizzing around
I have no heart to feel hurt with.

When he acted like I had killed him on purpose, I cried
I cried for what could’ve been, for the piano keys, for the honeybees.
He said he likes to torture me, I wonder if it’s real
A pretty man’s need to be seen….
With these fragmented eyes I cannot see.

When a boy slept in my bed
I felt like a hostage.
When a girl slept in my bed
I felt a *******.

He left marks on my neck,
A smell so repellent.
He was rotting in there
While girls give clean air.

His hair was long
But girls sing songs
Of butterflies and care;
Cannibalise my stare.

I see Sylvia like she’s here to console me
“Ariel, it’s gonna be alright”.
‘Death Note’ and undiscovered phantoms
Under a black cross, gothic chains.
The plants look dead but I have to water them, when they wither, I’ll get the blame.
Julia is silent - the headless woman…
I wonder if Caesar has hung her clothes on her.
This balcony is a world stage
Where I fight the urge to smoke,
Drain the dregs of these century old bottles
And I listen to the crowd of flat mates,
Neighbours, strangers… it doesn’t seem too loud anymore.

Eyes are enigmatic
Yet reserved, keeping their distance.
They can spot the nervousness
And devour it
Like they haven’t eaten in days.
It wouldn’t be hard to imagine
Too lost on the motorbikes
That fill this Tabard garden
Just like my anxiousness fills me
When I’m trying to just float through it.