up close and personal with all your mistakes
you can run but sorrow is freedom
but continued self berating is a lack of faith

there comes a point in time
when you have nothing
to give away
to the searching hands

wandering, dancing over
veins and joints
that are barely there.
they will ask for parts

forgotten, areas destroyed
and you will hand them
the rubble only for it
to be swept away.

there comes a point in time
your soul will hunger and thirst
for things you can
no longer feed it.

it will cry out for you
like a newborn baby
but you can only pass it
rice grains of promises

that fate will be kinder
to your already broken body.
you put your soul to rest,
and pray for sweeter dreams

you will lose your spine
and find vertebrae in letters,
bottled up and sailed off,
sent to long lost lovers.

your palms are empty,
reaching for bodies
sleeping in beds
that are no longer yours.

cold gasps settled into
the fine lines of song lyrics,
impossible to return
back down to your lungs.

you will have given
everything you have
to the universe, letting them go
into the expanse of space.

all you have left for yourself
is space rock and asteroid dust,
but for some reason,
you never ask for more.

you leave it up to hope
that gravity will pull
your fragments
all the way back to you.

as we talk
around in circles
words fall
******* silence

I emptied my chest;

An old casket encasing

a dying blood pump.

half way there
- half a wing,
a colour by half.

sat for a while,
halved the moon,
half of an orange,

yummy!

what ever half there
- way, wing and colour -
met me halfway,
in total eclipse.

beauty.
the dark oneness.

'where night is....
monotones of silver stars'

emotions
blues, greys,
summer tied
to our hair,
love on our
lips,
in a moment
we live and die,
kisses of golden
skies,
our dreamy heads
lost in the clouds
uprooted like a
strange plant, we
run to prove we're
still alive,
dance to say we're
beautiful and strong,
like a polished stone
we find ourselves in
weird pockets,
where the air sighs
where our ribs are no
longer a cage for
our breath
where the stars
hang like fisherman's
nets wrapped to
a black ink sky,
strange sea of stars
love so gorgeous
it sings like the
wild storm-grey sea,
where night is....