Benzo, blur my mornings and bury my feelings.
Beat down my misery and banish my ecstasy.
Steal my sweetness and turn my stillness sour.
Spit out a new me, and the old me, devour.
You stick in my throat like a longing to say
something I had too soon, too easily forgotten.
Trapped and helpless at the tip of my tongue
is each little thought and each one turns rotten.
Now all my worries wash grey and bore me asleep,
as time stops his march and slows to a creep
that claws through my head, and the worries unsaid
are left to fester in a foul and filthy old heap.  
Though they may reek like flesh on a dying fire,
I could take them or leave them just where they are.
I have no heat, no bold and burning desire
to do anything but nothing, and, so, to nothing I retire.  
Leave me be beeping alarm that screams like a maniac
so desperate to jump to his next brewing thought.
Leave me be roaring traffic, so equally manic,
leave me here in my head to lose this loose plot.

You stick in my throat like something I long to say
and send a sickness sinking through me.

Then I gulp, gargle and rinse you down
my gullet like I used to do with my carrots.  

With nothing you fill me so full I could burst.
But nothing ever happens; nothing at all.

Colours drain from everything around me
as If they’ve gotten bored of trying.

Night turns in, morning falls back asleep,
and each moment moans like a teenager.  

But I still remember her perfume,
though it’s fading like a car over the hill.

I still remember the backcourts
when boredom used to bang and bounce a ball.

I still remember the scraped knees,
the first drink, the first joint, the first stolen kiss.

I still remember it all.

The memories jump start me into action.
And then I look at the clock.

And you remind me that it’s too late,
and that we will try again tomorrow.

Riddled ramblings on and on.
Oh, how I know it can get so tiresome.
But these young tongues like to waggle
when the clock strikes quarter past
who gives a **** anymore.
When blurry moments ring for hours,
and glasses empty and fill themselves,
and piped up people **** confidence
until they remember their ***** training
and sit back down like dogs
who have disappointed their owner.  
Then, five seconds, minutes or hours later:
Bump. Bump. Line. Line.
And once again they've got a spine.

The clock clapped his hands
and told the time to go **** itself,
while the walls stood wobbling,
scared of the confrontation.
The telly turned herself off,
for fear of adding to the noise
while the lights flickered
as they thought of something to say.
But still, time marched on.
The clock made two fists
and waved them with fervour
as the walls tried to hide
behind their hangings and features.
They telly, still silent,
cowered quietly in the corner,
and the light bulbs no longer
had any bright ideas to voice.
Time marched on, uncaring.

Come meet me when today blurs with tomorrow
in the house with no way to tell the time.
Come with a present that no one will want,
and a kiss that feels more like an insult.
We’ll laugh like we’re happy,
We’ll cry like we are sad.  
We’ll sing the words of songs we’ve never heard.
We’ll tell the stories of people we’ve never met.
Just please don’t be late.

We are a whisper in an auction hall
where the greedy bid in a vile clamour.
We are unwanted; unheard in our call.
And yet it's our necks under the cold hammer.
In cowardice, we wait for it strike
like goats being lead to their slaughter.
And as the price inflates in an awful spike,
we are drowned deeper under their laughter.

' Sold! To the gentleman in black'

The gentlemen with the creeping crooked grin.
The gentlemen with the suit worth a home.
The gentlemen uncaring of hardship; unaware of sin.

We hadn’t spoken.
A silence, birthed from misery,
choked us until
we were Voiceless
and  spent our time
drifting apart as twigs
on a bullying sea.
Thoughts like echoes
bouncing between church walls
rattled around my mind:

“ If I called, would it be the same?”

“ If I ran to her, would she open her arms?”

It isn’t the same.
How could it be?
We’ve both changed so much.