Radioactive dreams
Got me bursting at the seams
Life is strange as it seems
Neon confusions
Got me coming to conclusions
I undress the illusions

Love bombed lover
You can be replaced with another
Friends who ain’t friends
We all meet unsavoury ends
I’m a victim
To a system

We roll the dice,
Loaded like guns,
Against our luck
And we stare down snake eyes
As we tell ourselves some lies
About our ******* luck

Glitz and glamour
Sugary ******* and diamonds
Hundred-dollar bills
Become hundred-dollar fines
And hundred-dollar fines
Become one-dollar bills
They say don’t eat the rich
Because one day you’ll cannibalise yourself

There is an idea
Called the American Dream
And we’re just living in the fallout
Of such contagious, radioactive dreams

I want my name up in lights
I want my legs up in skirts
I want, I want, I want

I want my name in the stars
I want to drive fancy cars
I want, I want, I want

Glitz and glamour: diamonds and dust
Magnetism and egotism
Connect the celebrated cosmos

Bright lights and bright eyes
People are gonna know my name
They’re gonna scream my name

I’m ready to take my chance
I’m ready to get up in stage
And I’m ready to rock my little heart out

Gonna take someone by the hand
Gonna give it a spin
Gonna see if I can win

Maybe people are just being mean
Maybe people are just being polite
But maybe people do see something
In my blue eyes
But maybe people so hear something
In my singing voice

Call it fate
Call it destiny
Call it anything ya want
But I reckon I got something
To back up the fact
That I got to stake my claim
In the game of fame

In lingerie up on stage
It was a different age
Sultry sighs and bad mullets
It was all rock and roll

A teenage cherry bomb
A girl gone wild
Free to run away
Along a yellow brick path

I see it in the stars
Both cosmic and mortal
I feel it in the air
The world is about the shake
And I'm going to be the earthquake

Vintage as an advantage
Retro and grunge,
Shabby chic,
Whatever you call it

Like an angel, Judgement,
Calls the dead
It will be a resurrection
Singing and crooning,
Triumphant trumpets

So grab your guitars
And some mates
It's time to start a band

I'm in the business of misery
And business is good
Lying, crying eyes
And eyeing crying lies

Death and life
Life and death
Eternity in a wooden case
A final home

Unless
You give me some coin
And give me some qi
That's when eternity
Can become piety
Borne of forgiving alms

It's a sin
It's a beautiful evil
To bring back one's love
Back from behind The Veil

Sweet nightmares
And terrifying dreams
Rest well
Without rapture

With the singing of my song,
And the swing of staff,
The chant of my scriptures,
And my daemon in tow,
We can wish you
The very best

Because my business
Is your business
And your misery
Is my money

But it's worth every penny
I have a satisfaction guarantee
Just close your eyes
And hold your breath,
Then awake in something
Better than life
And stolen from death

I'm just another empty head
With a mouth that can talk
And eyes that can read
And legs that can walk

I ain't got nobody
Nobody but me
I look out to the faces
They don't look
Back to me

It's lonely
And I'm shaking at the knees
Look at the bright side
I tell myself
Through clenched teeth

A naive mantra keeps me going
Treat others
How you want to be treated
But it doesn't seem to work
But I try anyway

I'm an idiot
That's all I am
Behind the thinking
That you think
I'm doing

The girl is pacing
For love she is waiting
No kiss on the lips
She is receiving

The covenant needs more blood
Or so I read
In black, white, and red
In a Billboard magazine

Rock and Roll is dying
But they’ve been saying that
Since a white man’s been lying
Since a black man’s been trying

Reckon I could be a video vamp
But I’m ugly as hell
I can’t sing, I can’t dance
But I’ll take the chance

It's not about what you do
It’s about how you do it
Live it loud
Live it proud

People prefer a fool
To a *****
Because a fool is funny
And a ***** is rude

Get up on stage
A guitar I can’t play
Slung
Across my body

Get up on stage
And maybe I could be
The one they crucify
To resurrect Rock and Roll

Happy 21st birthday

I remember the date of yours every time
And I know it’s not today
Makes it kind of funny
Since you never remember mine
And it’s not today either, don’t worry

I dream about you every so often,
My beautiful birthday queen,
The beauty standard who I hold myself to,
Skinny but imperfect

In my dreams, I feel your hands on my neck
Sometimes a wedding veil or silken glove,
Strangulate me too
Choking me, you’re choking me, I can’t breathe
I can’t breathe around you living either
You throttle me with…. with… with…

Anyways, I hope nothing but the best for you,
You, insufferable *****, you,
I have never felt lonelier than when I stood beside you,
My high school bestie whom I love to bits and pieces,

But happy birthday
You deserve nothing but the best
From me and from everyone else
On this day you have to share with your sister
And a bazillion other people, too
You deserve Vanilla cakes
(Because I know you don’t like chocolate)
And silver rings and beautiful diamond things
(Silver because I know it looks better on you)
A kiss from your smoking hot boyfriend
(The one I’ll no doubt have a crush on *** laude)

And, of course, sincere congratulations from me
Your high school best friend
The girl you left behind
So that you could mack on boys
And had someone to pick up your slack
But in your absence, behind your back,
I became someone new
New and still a little – a lot – naïve
But someone wise enough to know better
Than to tell you *******
On a glittery, twenty-first birthday card

P.S. I hope you like the flowers
And that your real card finds you well
And the fifty dollar note I left for you
In the envelope, an embrace, I never want to give you

Ain’t got nothing to do
At four in the afternoon
But doing nothing
Means everything to me

Lapping around a small town
Makes the town smaller
Highways ain’t scary no more
The speed limits seem limitless

My dad’s CD starts up
In my grandmother’s rack
I sing along to worn out lyrics
This is how it was meant to be played

Twenty bucks of gasoline
In the car’s tank
Petrol station Pepsi Cola
In my tank

My budding freedom
Tastes of lukewarm sugary syrup
And sounds like
Old school rock on new asphalt

Dead end days
Spent by dead-end kids
Living on a dead-end street
Listening to a dead-end radio
Sing about dead-end dreams
That taste bittersweet on the dead-end tongues
Of these dead-end kids
It’s just another dead-end day
Doing dead-end deeds
In a dead-end world of grey

Dead-End Boy
Met Dead-End Girl
Born was a dead-end friendship
But the Dead-End Boy
Had dead-end feelings
For the Dead-End Girl
But the from the Dead-End Boy
The Dead-End Girl felt no joy
In a dead-end instant
Their dead-end friendship did die

Now the Dead-End Boy
Lives life unknown on a dead-end road
And the Dead-End Girl
Works a dead-end job
But in her dead-end head,
She’s singing dead-end lies
On a dead-end radio
Using her dead-end tongue so sweet
To talk about her dead-end dreams
And listening in, are dead-end kids
On a dead-end street
Their dead-end lives
Just some more dead-end deeds done
Just some more dead-end days
Done in a dead-end world forever in greys

You’re a *****,
I would know
I hate you
But you wouldn’t know

I’m young
And I’m dumb
You are older
By a ******* year
Yet you seem so much more
Worldly
And you won’t let me forget it

When we argue
My tongue gets tied
Bubbles burst
And metaphors become words
Without meaning

When we argue
Your tongue sharpens
You burst bubbles
And you ignore my argument
In favour of bringing up
My failures as a person

When we argue
It’s like naughts and crosses
I’m naught
And you’re cross
Together we go back and forth
Without end
Until we just decide
I’m wrong
And your right

I don’t owe you jack ****
Because you make me feel like jack ****
With your superiority
With your intellect
With your prowess
With your beauty
And yet
And ******* yet
Here I am
I kiss your heel
Even when you kick me

I often think
What would happen
If I were to sink
Into the depths
Of you

I hate you
I hate you
I hate you
I hate you
Do you hate me?

I hope you don’t
Though I wish you did
I say this only
Because I wish to placate our differences
Because we have too much in common
I don’t want to be an outsider
I don’t want to be what you call me

You call me a pariah
I call myself a pariah
It only hurts
When you are the one
Calling me names

And speaking of names
Yours means a love of knowledge
And mine means a love of rivalry
And a name is a gift
A gift is to be shared
And when we’re together
The streaks of difference appear

In the smoke and haze
I could lie for days
Bound by dreams
Of vivacious scenes

A matriarchal mistress
From Sacher-Madoche novella
Gleaming eyes; a cruel smile
Courtesy could not last for a mile

Spank and strike,
Dearest love and goddess
Do not shirk from such duty
****** and tantalising

Bask in decadent moonlight
By the wisp of cold wind
Cure your sadism
And sate your masochism

Within piquant smell of leather
Find your balance
Between lust and love
Dealt with swift blows so keen and easy

All whilst recounting your ****** burden
Unto lovely Aphrodite
She is taken with vile passion
And laden with fur and velvet

She was wearing a wedding gown
In a high school gymnasium
She was at her wedding
I was at her wedding
And what a sweat-stained spectacle
It was

Numinous nineteen
Not a groom to be seen
She was the sole bride
I don’t even know who was
Sharing vows with her

I was in the audience
There were many people in the audience
She was up on stage
Gorgeous in a gown
A mad look in her eye
As her wretched hands
Held onto wretched flowers
But not a priest or a pastor
Not a groom-bride
Or a bride-bride
To be seen

Not even twenty
She was getting married
And I don’t know to who
So, I thought her a mad woman
No, a girl
A mad, mad girl
She is still so young

I refused to believe
That she
Of lily-white skin
And unmatched potential
Not yet used
For she had not yet lived
To the fullest extent
Would get married like this
Inelegant and stinking
Unintelligent
When she was of the most brilliant mind

She gave chase
Because I insulted her
Her and her wedding
Her wedding more like a funeral
To commemorate
The death
Of her sanity

Are you ******* high?
I asked
Revolt and horror in my voice
She held onto my shoulders
A crazed look in her eye

A question
Of obsession
Was her reply
When I realised
I know the girl
I know her face
I know her dress
But I do not know
Her mind
Her love
Her life

And reply
I cannot
Where questions
Meet more questions
Mark my losing virtues
With a grip like a vice
With an uneasy voice
She asked:
Do you hate me?

Contemporary art
Dada and surrealism
Paint in my heart

I was the one who told her
To dump him when he made cry
I thought he looked like a rat
But there’s something about my best friend’s ex-boyfriend
Which makes my heart pound

It’s been years since they had gone out
It’s been years since I had last seen him
But one night in a different town
By the fire on the front porch
Of a country pub
I catch up with him and his Slayer jumper
And suddenly, I can’t help but crush
On my best friend’s ex-boyfriend

I was the one who told her
To dump him when he made her mad
I hated his guts and she thought that was funny
But there’s something about my best friend’s ex-boyfriend
Which makes my heart pound

I think they were still dating
When I realised that he had caught my eye
Something ridiculous since he made my blood boil
Yet by the beach, beer can in hand,
I was overcome by a sunset urge to kiss him
Right then and there, years after my best friend
Had dumped his sorry ***
But suddenly, I can’t help but crush
On my best friend’s ex-boyfriend

I was the one who told her
To dump him when he made her crazy
I thought he was sweet and kind
But something under the hood had broken down
So, soon enough they were through and through
But once again, there’s something about my best friend’s ex-boyfriend
Which makes my heart pound

I didn’t really know him
Until they had gotten together
And when I hung out with him
I felt like we had more in common than
Her and him
Or me and her
So, when they were done but not yet dusted
A few months down the road,
When they were drunk on the pier
I couldn’t help but think to myself in the seaside dusk
There’s something about my best friend’s ex-boyfriend
Which makes my heart pound

A loner and a renegade
In the city he had it made
It was a trick of the light
A deception I could never be right
I was caught up in his madness
To be loved at all was gladness
I wanted to hear it just that little bit more
His was a love like a convenience store
Apple pie: all artificial sugar to break my jaw

I'm shaking at the knees
Lucid and faint
I never asked for any these
As the blood drips taint
My silk sheets and tepid tears

I’m just a postmodern bush poet
Roaming and roving rusty roads
Writing, wordsmithing, amid yellow grass
Fondling the various ******* of Mother Nature
The hills and mountains, all her nooks and crannies
Looking at peeled potato sheeps
Dreaming about what great stews they would make
Listening to a bit of AC/DC
With no wuckin’ furries
Getting eyed by work dogs
With no sense of self-preservation
Telling me I’m going to die all the same
As those rotting roos lying in the dirt
Sodomised by cars just like mine
Their pink, esoteric entrails getting pecked out
By the crows I call my friends

I turn off the lights
And the fluorescent bar above me
Slowly dims like drowsy eyelids
As the darkness takes over
With tightly drawn curtains
And my brain turns on

I have only seen myself as a beautiful artwork once in my life,
It had been the advent lovely Spring of sweet sixteen,
There is a photo of someone else’s mind in which I am the subject, rife
With calculated gorgeousness, the white blouse and powder blue skirt
And I had been wearing black ballet flats; a day upon my feet had left me hurt
But the enchanted, oil forest before me had healed my eyes and entranced me
That pose, holding onto myself with ribbons in my hair, someone could see
A beauty that which I have never known since.

Into the heart of the Prince
Into the hearts of all the folk for she was a fairy tale heroine,
Cinderella, lovely lady of ashes, had glass slippers
And upon such toity-toity footwear, she had slipped
Yet, it had been such fragility that would unite her with her love

Will I be united with such grace, such love for myself, if I hold onto my ballet flats?
After all, I have not once seen this grace, such love for my own self since sweet sixteen
Since the foolhardy winds of chilly, oceanside Spring;
Where upon the Museum modern, I saw myself as timeless artwork
Admired and appreciated by all; much like the lovely lady of ashes whose slippers
Have walked her beloved soul into the hearts of all; into the best of time

Yet, these beloved shoes of mine
Have seen so much better of time
For I can see through the soles wherein holes
Have shown where I have worn my own souls
In bitter wanderings and light-hearted adventure; so many type of walk
For a single lass, I could not talk
Of all the places and thoughts these shoes have led me astray within
Of the beauty that had once sunken in

How am I to part?
How am I to part with such faithful companions through all my wanderings of
Yonder years soon to come asunder as I am no longer sweet sixteen,
As I am no longer before entrenched trees of oil, elevated in buildings upon
A chilly, Springtime by the sea I’ve only known in passing afternoon
In black ballet flats; not unlike the glass gussied slippers of lovely cinders

Am I not unlike Cinderella?
For whom would she be if she had not received the night of her life
As carried upon the fragile spurned glass of her magic slippers
For whom had reunited her with her love, the foot fetishist Prince;
Lovely lady of ashes would be just that: lady of ashes,
Worked to beyond the bone; dressed in rags, head in clouds,
Dreaming of opportunity squandered in her slippers of magic glass

She would be like me.
She would be like me, contemplating her toes in birdsong prose
She would be like me, wondering when she would feel as refined as a classic artwork
A beautiful timeless painting with grace and poise without rival supposed

If I part with these worn soles which have born my souls cross
My journeys long, will I ever be at loss
Over mine own image rendered beautiful: my own body rendered beautiful to my eyes?
How can such skin-deep bliss exist without my black ballet flats?
How will mine own eyes recognise my beauty
If it were not for dainty small feet slotted into impractical, magical glass slippers
In want of my dear and precious black ballet flats.

I want to kiss his knuckles
His nails are neat but dirt dusted
His palms are red and raw
Fallen down, as high as he could on bark,
On his knees, teary eyed and in a heap,
The tree behind us, motherly and verdant,
Watches us kindly as I kiss her son
Kiss away his loneliness
Reward his thankless devotion
With sweetest dues

Hey Star Child, are you listening? Do you know?
There is a woman who is seated at the edge of existence;
She sits at the blush of all creation
And in her deft hands, the fabric of time and upon it, she will sew
She will sew ever so lonely, the joyful memories of those of space
Such thankless work

Her skin is as dark as the unknowable void and her eyes as bright as celestial sparks
She wades her long, thick legs in the primordial ooze
From which all life grasped onto her endless scroll of the fabric of time which she marks
With all the spectrum of human knowledge and human emotion: humanity itself.
But for her deft craft; it is thankless work

And she has name; a name of decency and order
Cosima of the Cosmos: divine being of all with tranquil auras upon her lips
Her soul is that of chaos and order; blooming with gentle petals that did corder
The interconnectedness of the realms and worlds at her fingertips
With deft fingers, she sews and she sews and she sews
Unaware time has passed at all; her endless chore without beginning where she goes

Without end, without thanks
Cosima sews. That is the true nature of her celestial,
Of her ethereal
Duty to us, the children of the stars whom she is unaware of; hark
Tis us who are unaware of her
She who sits, sewing, at the gorgeous turmoil of the beginning and end of the universe
That she has crafted, blissfully unaware of her how fingers bleed for us
She sits, sewing, and crafting the fabric of time rolled out infinitely upon our Earth

Oh Cosima, oh darling Cosima of the Cosmos, do you know?
Are you listening to I?
I who wish to bid you praise for your stellar talents
I who cry out in the astral abyss; completely separated from you by space and time
I who cry out in a weak, perishing voice
I who wishes to acknowledge your tireless, endless work

The work Cosmia, oh Cosima my darling, who creates all the pleasures and misfortunes
Of the human experience we write, we sew, we who praise all your efforts
Unknowingly so
To which is met with more bitter, ignorant bliss
For you, Cosima of the Cosmos, do not realise you are not alone
You do not realise that your astral fingertips is more lives than you will ever know
How horrible it is, such thankless, beautiful work
Imbued with loneliness you will never fathom
For such loneliness is all you’ve ever known

The ordered universe: symmetry and entropy
Petals of magenta, unfurl and it does greet
The morning sun in joy and the evening moon in farewell,
A name by any other just as sweet
Cosmo, the one with the name of peace and order, Cosmo
The flower we have signified to mean such pleasantries
In the feminine name of the motherly woman who sits at the edge of nothingness
And all
We did name such a pretty petal pink
But does she know?
But do you know?

Hey Star Child, did you listen? Do you now know?
Hey Star Child, will you be the one to let her know?
Will you be the one to thank Cosima of the Cosmos?

It’s cold tonight in Eden
A full moon is a spectral sight
An apple tree is in full bloom
In this garden where we may say our prayers
Dirt is caked under my nails
I’m tumblin' down, down, down
Eight feet, just for you my dear,
Lenore can’t so no
Not when the throes of passion
Are caught so deep
I’m restless against the stillness
Aching and grinding
Yet paradise is so cool this low

Big hair, don’t care
With cherry cola lips
Hotpants flatter her hips
She’s a roller derby girl
Gonna give you a twirl
Skating in a rock’n’roll rink
She gives me a wink
As she rolls on by
I think she might be bi

I’m searching for my perfect stranger
She looked just like me
Only taller, skinnier, prettier
We were wearing the same thing
Tight blue jeans and a dark coloured shirt
We met above the markets in a Sydney complex
The night was young; younger than us both
I miss you, my perfect stranger
And the embrace of your friend
Who thought I was her
We didn’t Instagram it
But I can assure you that it happened
So to you, my perfect stranger,
Let’s meet again
For sushi and bubble tea
And this time,
We’ll have more than a keepsake story
We’ll have a hug and a kiss and a friend forever
Because we’ve found each other:
Our perfect strangers in one another

I'm cruising
For a bruising
I'm thrashing
For a smashing

My grandmother had the face of a duck
My mother has the body of a duck
And I am happy like a duck

Darling, until the morning
We could have it all
Darling, from dusk until dawn
You and I, we could have it all
Darling, from now until eternity
You and I: we could have it all
Because what a wonderful
Night to have it all; just you and I
Because what a wonderful
Night to die

She's a fair-weather friend
She has fair hair
And a fair complexion
She has a fair mind
I see her at the fair
Where she fairs just fine
Because her fares are unfair

You say your God is your rock and your light
But light can be blinding
And rock may roll
No longer do I feel faith
In an outback church house
Singing with the preachers

Fame is in famine
Too many people
With too small a mind
Choke the celebrity industry

Upside down
Back towards you
A solemn resignation,
Submitting to despair
Changes it into acceptance
And becomes forgiveness

A scatter of possessions at my feet
That I have since abandoned
Despite their worth
Their value
In gold and silver
But ultimately a fortune
That cannot be measured
Because of sentiments
And significance

I must move on
Though my head weighs
Low on my shoulders
And I ignore the flush of water

Waters of change
Waters of loss
Waters of purity
Waters unknown

Dressed in a gown of blue
Do I allow
The weight of worth
To weigh onwards
A burdensome tie that binds
Me to a past
Wrought in memories and mirth
Some good
Some bad
Precious all the same

But this is a memoir of moving on
Change is flowing
I can grasp the water
In cupped hands
But it escapes me
A cold and cruel dripping
Leaving me
But I must accept it
And forgive it of such fickle transgression
For such is life

Oh darling Flower Child, you speak ever so pretty
Your breath is like the summer wind, young and warm
However with such lovely youth, comes such a pity
Too many thoughts come and swarm
Upon your gentle tongue is such very good advice
However, seldom do you follow such good thoughts, oh, what a price

For wisdom that comes from yonder year
You do not know. What you say, I love to hear
Because I want to learn
I want to learn from your fantasised mistake
Be bold, be daring, act out of turn
Tell him you love him, Flower Child; gamble all your hesitations upon that stake

I swear by all my moons and stars, he will love you back
He would be a fool not to love your soul, untainted and beguiled
And your verdant eyes and your wit sharp as a tack
For all your eccentricities and more, you will be loved, dearest Flower Child
So, open your mouth and speak: relish the uncertainty
To the adventurous winds you speak of in breaths of eternity

Tell him Flower Child of the love you have for him
Even if your heart is fit to break at there mere thought
Tell him of the wondrous quibbles, of the loving hymn
That you wrote for him; of the words for him you wrote
Into lovely wreaths of poetry
Laced with dulcet sincerity

Quit your flower fortunes; stop blowing dandelion seeds
Your precious little dandelions are but weeds
Stop plucking petals from roses; white painted red
They do not know your heart, they do not know your head
They are but plants, dearest Flower Child
They have no sense for sensibilities so pay their predictions no mind
I know you wish to surrender to your feelings; breathe as wild
As the winds of fortune in your mouth and you may just find
That your first love may just be your first lover
But there is only one way for such sweet feelings to be discovered.

My Baby's gone fishing
I hope he catches himself a treat
For us both to eat
And when he comes back home
I'll make him a meal
Of bread and butter

Dark hair, pale skin, blue eyes
We’re too similar; you and I
Animosity unwinds

You need a favour done
You need it done now
But it ain’t the kind of thing
You ask of a kind thing

You’re having troubles
With the girl who laughs like bubbles
She’s a pretty thing
But here’s a less than pretty thing
She ain’t in love with you

She’s got you on the brink
With just a flirtatious wink
But you can see the ring
On her dainty little finger
And the ring around her eyes
When she starts telling you lies

She tripped down the stairs
So, there’s no reason for you to stare
It’s just a bruise
It’s just a cut
It’s just a lie
To cover up her cry
For help

She’s having troubles
With the big man in her life
He’s the reason for all her strife
He’s the reason for all your strife
It ain’t a pretty thing
But it might just be a kind thing
To do as a favour
To make you her saviour

Guns and knives
Don’t save lives
But a kiss from her,
An angel in your life,
Might just save yours
Guns and knives
They take lives

Got it for cheap
You got it for cheap
Because there’s no reason why
You can’t do it yourself, DIY,
Better a filthy act for free
Than a ***** deed done dirt cheap

She's the only woman I know
Who could wear a sheer net shirt,
Bra and ******* exposed,
To a small town funeral
She's the only woman I know
Who flicks cigarette ash
Off of a no smoking sign
Embedded on a wire table at a wake

I’m starting to suspect
I may be insane
I cannot talk with my mouth
I can only talk with my heart
That scares some people
Too much
Too soon

I’m not lonely
But these roads are
Teeming with ants and birds soaring above
I drive on by, past them all and the clouds too

I’m not lonely
But this car is, this heart is
I miss the days when it was the other way around
When I had someone to chauffeur me

I dream of you
Standing in the tall yellow grass
Thumbs up and a cheeky grin
I don’t drive on by

I dream of letting you in
You laugh at the CDs I keep
All by your feet
But you like the music anyway

I ask of you, “Where you headed?”
You just laugh
And my cheeks turn red
But it’s not because of the summer sun

I sing with you
And you love the lyrics
To these old rock and roll songs
But we don’t part ways

I kiss you
Maybe not then
Behind a grimy windshield
But eventually

We don’t part ways
Instead, we keep each other company
In this dinged up white car
On grey-blue lonely roads

But you don’t exist
Not outside my mind
Not outside my heart
Not outside my words

So, I implore you,
That when we meet
I want our story to be
Of a happily ever after
And not a Twilight Zone episode

So,
Mister Hitch Hiker,
Do you reckon I can give you a lift?

Honey badger *******
Ugly son of ***** predator
Little ****** girl so sweet
Looking for something wild tonight
Ravage me like a beast please

I want to live in a big house
In the middle of a big town
And in my big house
In the middle of a big town
I want to bake biscuits in my big kitchen
And feed them to my friends
Who come to visit my big house
In the middle of a big town

Violet delights
And sweet iridescence
Dreams lost in the aether
Oh, what a marvellous life

You lied,
Said Flower Child
To me
There is no escaping it
It is true
There is no flowery lie
The petals have fallen off
He loves you not

Hopes plucked
Much like the petals
You pluck
To divine
Questions and answers
Going around in circles
Like daisy chains
On your head like a crown

Despair in your eyes
Once gorgeous,
Now blank,
Once verdant,
Now dry,
For there is no love
There is no requite

I apologise,
Dearest Flower Child
But look
You have bloomed
You have changed
You have grown stronger
From allowing yourself to be weak
To be emotionally vulnerable
Heart fluttering
Like leaves in the wind scattering

And now,
Flower Child, please
It is time to regrow
Bloom brighter
Bloom stronger
Bloom longer
You will love again
The world is a garden
So, there is a good many more
Flowers for you to fancy

It’s the heat of the moment
The warmth of hatred and blood
Spilt in consequence of my opponent
Eternity itself and I land with a thud
Unable to do a thing because it's not real
One, three, five, seven, ten: it's all surreal
The clock on the wall, it’s no good
Unhelpful as it's always wrong
A shift in reality as told by a chunk of wood
Only right twice a day; the same old song
Out of power; no more battery
Inside of me in awakes: my all-out anarchy

What is a girl to a God?
I stand before the cusp of infinity
As person, I am deeply flawed
Too much rage contained inside of tiny femininity
Want to throw a punch but I’m too afraid
Of broken bones and ****** noses
One day I’ll part the heavens like Moses
Because from my terror I have strayed
And into the eyes of all
I shall make my fall

A descent against time
Tick, tock
I hate it, I hate it, I hate it
The clock sneers on the wall; a paradigm
Of all that I rage against on lock

Numbers fall and rise
In heavy breaths, only one creature tolls for time
And that would be us: mad humanity who toils for a dime
We construct buildings of an unimaginable size
Against the hour we call home
And all for a construct of capitalism
With everything and everyone on loan
Parts of varying brokenness in a great schism

Time and time again, they chide
But we’re the only ones who remember
With pen and paper, our memories are tied
To the treasures of our ancestor

Yet how strange I find the passing of time
We’ve normalised it so much yet it couldn’t be more alien

But I refuse
It’s all an illusion

In my more misunderstood days, I once read up on how to speak to the dead
The results were unsurprising; an article on Necromancy
I read on and on, it went quite hard to my head
It went quite hard to my memories

Upon that aloof, summer day of boredom in which I was first clued in
To the biggest secret kept away by grief and adulthood
I read why unspeakable corpse magic is deemed a sin
And why such things are sealed away with intentions good
But ultimately useless
Despite the misinformation’s efforts proven fruitless

We do not reach out; we do not speak to the dead
The dead reach out, they speak to us

They reach out to us
In dreams, in books, in stories
With much fuss,
They rise from the crypts and earth
And they whisper sweet glories
In their reeking, putrid breath exhaled from rotten lips
The truth slips, the future slips

For the dead, they can see the future
For the dead, they have lived the past
Necromancy, romantic for the living longing for the dead; suture
Of misinformation; the ideation that the living cast
A spell upon the dead, raising them for past loves and lives
When in truth, they are merely here to set free our eyes from our lies

The dead do not want us the living to die
For they know how horrendous fate can be
With screeching lungs rotting, they shriek of how the end is nigh
And share wisdom mostly ghastly
Willingly, they impart visions of future from bygone past
As, they - the ungrateful dead - lusting for life to return
With one last breath,
I remind you so you may learn
So, you may pass on from your own misunderstood days:
That which colours our miserable, romantic haze...

We do not talk to the dead
That is why we believe it bad luck to speak ill of our passed-on people
The dead talk to us and they talk to us of the future
That is the truth of Necromancy
That is the truth that you will now see
Beyond misconstrued myth, it is not the raising of the dead for love,
But for knowledge.

I want to love you
Like an Iron Maiden
Loves a poor, unfortunate soul
I don’t want you to leave
My embrace, no matter,
How hurtful and ******

In darkened alleys and vacant parking lots,
Liminal spaces; an astral plane most physical
Broken bones, raw bruises, and blood clots
This is where I wish to throw the first punch; atypical
And insane, I just want to fight
Scuffed knuckles and bleeding noses, I’ve got some sort of plight
Where hatred turns to violence
Hungry blade in hand and dash of rogue; like a lioness
I’ve got to feed my body’s desire
This disturbing anger burns inside me like your funeral pyre

Poor, little girl with emotions on mute
Dreams and dreams of taking on the world
Come on, take me the **** on, deep down I’m a brute;
Brass knuckle dusters and a switchblade twirled
One look at you and it’s all weapons activated
All this rage facilitated
By the **** I take with a smile
As is the style
Of a lady too scared of dried blood consequences
Who feels too much with all her senses

But with the sun down and midnight rears its ugly head
Where moonlight trickles through tin plated shanties
That’s when the darkness is heavy as lead
In my heart, I feel the turmoil and I become a useless vigilante
Too drunk on violence to care for justice
And I got a lust for us

For us and a good and ****** fight
Just you, me, and my one-sided rage
Let’s knock you out like a ******* light
But maybe if we burn some sage
I’ll be purified of this urge
Because every time I see your pretentious face
I get this despicable desire to purge
You of this plane of existence
But Baby, that’s why you need to learn
Respect me or expect resistance
And deep down I yearn
That you never do
So I’ll be justified
When I get to throw the first punch; beating you black and blue
But just know I tried

I tried to lock up these feelings
Beneath a pretty and innocent smile
When my brain is Hell and I got my reasonings
And you’ll be my first trial
Of anger and violence
Where words fail and I don’t believe in silence
At least not until you’ve screamed
And in the afterlife that you’ve dreamed

Jack The Stripper
On the pole
Going down
To that hole
Lingerie ****** killer
It's a ****** paperback thriller

One day the dead shall wake
And all the Earth shall quake
From the ruin, new life shall spring
And good news, the destruction shall bring
Amid the new life
Judgement shall purge strife

The good
The evil
The rich
The poor
The sick
The healthy

Awaking,
Appealing,
The reckoning hath come
With the world reeling
Before the holy might
Underneath a holy light

Both acceptance
And refusal
An apocalyptic happenstance
Facilitated by
Divine will:
Absolution,
A change of resolution,
A revolution,
Hailed by the triumphant call of a trumpet

Divided the fallen stand
Raising to their full height
Beneath the ruling gaze
Of an Angel
Of a God

But until the fallen stand
We must wait
With the weight
Of our sins
Casting our own judgements
Upon each other
We lash out
We cry
And we lie

Our own sort of entropy
Chaos
Achieved through order
We live,
We die,
We love,
We lose,
And one day
We may have it all
Or we may lose it all
But first we must stand
And then we must fall
So, we may rise once more
As per the bidding
Of Judgement
Of those whom we do not know

Acceptance, not awareness
Red, not blue
Infinity, not a puzzle piece
An autistic person, not a person with autism

A cue
I missed
A clue
I never gave you

Literate
In literature readings, yes,
Literate
In social readings, no,

I misunderstood
I was not rude
You misunderstood
I try not to be rude

I am sorry
I am so sorry
I try not to cry
But your words hurt

...I shouldn't be sorry
This is who I am
A strangely wired brain
Please understand better next time
I swear I will try better next time