the irrelevancy of this day
blots the Sun
with the suffocating light of indifference

the urge to scream is often there
just below that inane giggle
that maniacal grin

that ever recurring crystalline voice
whispering from the lips of a fading thought
'we are all undeniably
irrevocably
lost'

In this desert
I touch the ocean within,
here where I abandon all plans,
I spend hours watching cloud formations
of flowers blooming violet, red.
I travel to the sanctuary of the soul
each morning, sit silent
at the altar of dawn.

i lit a cigarette
in the cold night

in the window glass
a light burns to
the pace of a lighthouse

i think of you and
drift in a flickering sky

look back and you will see a traveller with the crudest of maps
be kind to that person struggling with so much daily detail they have no clue as to how they are going to fulfil their half remembered dream. The dream they keep tucked in the pocket next their heart, the one they take out now and then when alone and have deep intentions to make it all come true. That person is every person and if you look, that person is you.

Everyday we sailed with the Sun on our faces
and the Moon at our backs.
How we covered the ground separating us from freedom
only to find new slavery picked up on the way weighing us down.

I sit on the step
And draw
The cold around me
Like a blanket,
Savouring the numbness
And the heat
That begins within.
Swallowed by the night
Drunk on wine
And stars.
Hot tears on cold cheeks.
Seasoning for
Chapped lips
Stinging
Bringing fresh tears.
I take refuge
In the silence,
Under the gaze of
Sympathetic eyes.
My friends.
My constant companions.
Drunk on wine
And stars.

I have a painting of a purple-haired
kurt cobain hanging in
my bathroom so I can feel the
nostalgia of being a broken
head shadow
put in a
anechoic heart-shaped box
a dream split inside myself
halved and halved
again
like I’m living on a tiny
blue sun stuffed in a jar
filled with vinegar
shooting speedballs
in a lukewarm bubble
bath