Swim through
Darkness
Cling to stars

Swim through uncertainty
To a frozen lagoon on mars

Blue tails with
Silver scales

Pink hair
That drifts lazily

Eyes like diamonds that rain on Saturn
Fingers like Milky Way's
Rings like Jupiter

Hearts
Like the black holes
We're all afraid of

Vast
And terrifying
Unable to see
The inside
Without getting ****** up
Into mystery

I so often get lost on the train
my mind wonders – to strange and thoughtful places,
I seep through the carriages and people like a gliding ghost
half existent in transient memory,

a translucent thin veil membrane separating me
from this reality,
and the shifting worlds of imagination.

My imagination overwhelms me often, it is powerful and I feel lost
in my internal worlds and can't connect to anything external from my own process,

my own neurosis – I want to get beyond my neurosis,
my fears, my stupid little set backs.

Fear itself becomes a huge beast in my mind,
a multi-limbed Kali staring at me with half crazed eyes,
meeting me with the intention of true chaos – a challenge.

I wish to climb the ladder that suddenly appears and become myself;
Infinite in direction and potential

I want to love myself and be loved.
I want to love,
I want to love.

I stare out of the window again, streets, signs and derelict buildings
zoom and melt into one huge encompassing space,
one straight up urban landscape.

And as I am enveloped in this concrete world
via the mechanistic medium of train

I wonder:
/
Will I ever feel better?
will I ever feel peace?
Will I ever know love?
will I ever understand?
and do I really want to?

Truth is such a hard pill to swallow in the end.
I imagine anyway, I imagine.

Do you ?

Considering some scribbling to figure everything out, I expect to either be entirely burnt by this fire,
or to be defined by it. Whatever it is.

It burns. Love, anger, passion-
what is in this heart, old and black?
as I lay in this, my heath of images-
all warping and swirling above my bed,

and death haunts and linger in the corner of my eye,
and I realise large parts of my lie,
and I am cold to the bone,
fattening like a pig by the day,

I shall be as poe, dying slowly day by day -
amongst the red red roses, lank hair and morbid tone.
Synthetic whisper in the woodland greet,
I ran, I could not stop, meek to the core.

Entombed in happiness, quiet and forever unspoken
she lets me down, she will never cease.

I am Vampyre, and so is she.
soon to be-
******,
Eternally.

You are encased in your world of flower;
Whilst I suffer in the pit below
that wolf at the door is me.

He is the leader of my pack
and when he howls others follow in tick tack
tight formation, his howl has rendered cowards
to fits of madness, coward!

I am that too he says? hahaha!
A fit of vortex light burning brightly over there, you fool!
Screams the wolf,
'you do not know the box you have opened!'

'I do!'
I have opened the post it says sickness and fit,
a spice awakening in Sheffield, and not just the drugs
not working in Manchester,
as Ashcroft once sang banging his shoulders
into every passer by, why? For the hell of it,
take no prisoners, proper Manc wolf style.

And I will burn your souls with words, O burn those bridges burn;
I will crush you with every click of the typewriter
you seek to burn me, call me drunk and ****** and fool,
I forget you! ha! Neit papa! Neit Mama!

Da Christopher! I have made such art and wonders
so see I am not to be taken lightly.
I have danced with death, not once but twice
and lived to tell the tale, captured foes forever
their grimaces frozen in time.

In the dead of night when I have no desire
for both shallow words and drunken wounds and late night calling-
your 'fatal fallacies'
I will burn these images and all the old
word scribbled in spider handwriting
by me that eldest poet, and soul.
That fire shall bring solace.

I hate you, as much as I hate myself;
forever smoking in the corner
and laughing at deaths wings,
as it winks at me underneath
cloaked eyes of shallow indifference -

Off with you and your 'perfect' life too.
Bitter wolf blinks, and cannot sleep,
Oh look how I am red and rendered, insomnia
red eyed and twitching, shocks all over sighs the poet,
Never call me again, drunken witches. Vampires
and bloodsuckers.

Alive still and struggling against the call
of it. Defiantly myself, whilst others crawl
to the windowpane of the widows to cradle the light.
I am encased in darkness, and search for my window-
fools allay me from my path, winding, twisting to
love.

I am burning. This fire it will not cease, this is
the end. My first friend, thrown to the fire,
her fate is sealed, she is undoubtedly married.

My pack is pleased, and giggle in the night,
drunk on the strength of passion! and *****!
ACC WOO AGH
Nein Nein Nein
Neit! Da! Da!

I grin through bared teeth,
Always gnashing and grinding.