in between my insecurities

I can’t be found sometimes,
dumbfounded by my surroundings.
hiding,
in between my
insecurities.

i’ve been captured in the moment,
scared to say another word,
caught ,
in between my
insecurities

I got lost within the essence,
talking nonsensical thoughts,
lying inside,
in between my
insecurities.

I learnt my lesson swiftly,
teenage years, lunchbox idioms ,
sandwiched,
in between my
insecurities.

i see you in the Philippines.
east of the sunrising,
colliding with my thoughts.

Taught differently to me.
yet a breath of fresh air.

How you living over there?

Not like me,
i guess,
Wondering whats it like in Manila,
Sat here in London,

Were not far in mind,
but far in land.

Not far in skin colour either.
And we probably believe in different things.

My life embargoed.

Would we trade places?
I don’t know.

This one is for Paolo,

The crystal ball see’s the future;
Cristablo.

X

One last tequila shot.
Naked on the couch,
Wrestling on the tv.
Nearly thirty.
Nearly February.
Not one resolution  lasted a day.
Dry January?
When it rains it pours.
We could blame global warming,
Or take responsibility for our wrong doings.
Content until there's no penny's left.
Cash rich,
No flinch.
Is there emotion for this?
The nothingness.
The TV won't guide me now,
Adverts in the background,
The glass sounds like a siren as it hits my gold ring,
The tequila brings a taste to my mouth that makes me feel sick..

Standard ****.

sleep has become a boring chore,
another thing I would rather not do.
I'd rather have the moonlight rap me in his dainty arms,
then feel the cold lack of presence.
but that too is long a distance,
far, out of sight in plain view.
we may claim to be a strong,
but the arms of another melt soul into stillness,
the stillness of a lake perfect for skipping stones.
my heart craves a partner for the dance of the bed,
***, no.
for love, a much slower dance.
for the soft touch of our noses,
the shallow breath on our flesh,
our eyes,
will devour us whole,
and that's quite alright.
for when your skin is so soft and you slip through my arms and melt into my chest,
I will be so happy.
I will finally sleep,
knowing I will see you in the morning.

I listen to the songs they sing,
about the peace and the love,
about unity and compassion.
I stop,
and I hear nothing.
Why do you think they're always in my ears?
I keep them near to me.
artists are truly born somewhere other than earth,
they pass by on shooting stars
belting out their messages so sincere.
but does it actually hit earth,
or does it just turn to dust in the sky?

Deep and dark dirt,
worms of mother earth feed on
another young soul, soft,
smelling the lilacs.
They taste thy taste of love,
a fire now buried in sand, once
to light a thousand torches.
They taste thy taste of sorrow,
that vile bog of sadness that rips at
the curtains of sanity.
They taste thy taste of deceit,
of rotten completion in her roots,
a sour taste in the soil of Denmark
worms doth hastily spit out this flower.

She weeps not for the shore
As distance creates a shadow
She embraces the current
Becoming the wave
And gently pushes her sea home

She chases not the sun
As the day is put to rest
She is the moonlight
That cradles the stars
Tightly to her *******

She yearns not
Her pain-streaked tears
That fall below her feet
She is the soil beneath her toes
Her pain now colors the tree

She worries not
The flowers' bloom
Or the leaves that fall like rain
She is the wind
That will kiss the ground
And sweep it all away