Time called,
it wants its watch back.

So too did love,
it wants its fake relationship back.

Literature left a message for you,
the book you stole should be returned.

Oh! You’ve just missed music,
it said that album you murdered is pressing charges.

Time called again,
just to make sure you got the message.

Check the machine,
there’s one from Platform Eight.
Bonfire night 2011 just hung-up,
it wants you to know never to return.

An email just came through,
from that film we knew every line too.

What was that,
you use people?

Oh! Politeness dropped by,
he said he’d like to slam every door he ever opened for you
back into your face.

Wait a second,
I’ll put him through-
it’s time, he wants to speak to you.

Obscene gesture
From a car
With a Jesus fish
Amen

Morning blooms grey,
even the birds are quiet.
I broke two more hearts this week
and all I want to do
is hear your laugh.

You put strings in my joints

Your wooden face still hangs on my door
and Buddha squats on my granite nightstand.
Tastes of you are everywhere I look.

You shoved it in my face

******* and fighting
my way back to me,
I'm shedding skin
and growing teeth
and breaking bones
and doing **** my way
and loving it,
really loving it.
Still I hate every second
I am not with you.

*The coldness of your nothing

I never told

You

I love you

Because

I don't

We are trapped by our predisposed characteristics
Seemingly inescapable,
but little did you know it is nothing more than a facade,
Like an arrow that tells you where to go,
But your instincts tell you not to follow
the choice is always yours,
now choose the right course.

Bloodstained parchments.
Broken oaths.
Chiseled granite
with
promises
weightless as shadows.

But still we lie.

Wading in  the great nothing,
waist deep in murky inks,
wandering
sightless, senseless,
I feel my way.

Memories of grey skin,
black blood.
******* wrapped in ropes,
cherry blossoms
and alcohol.

Still we love our bruises.
  
Blind and cold
in the nothing,
we feel our way.

I don't really care
I'm just along
For the ride
My shoes are falling apart
And my clothes are Salvation Army Special
Hungry but High
Cancer Ridden
Burning stacks of hundred dollar bills
To stay alive in the winter wind
Bums and the ******* laugh at me
Ha ha I'm pretty funny
She left me high and dry
Because my shoes are holy
Because I made her laugh
At herself
Figurines on the shelf
To the pawn shop
Only  knowing
How to window shop
Brick through the glass
You are mine at last