The darkness
is illuminated
by the
moonlight,
star lights,
headlights,
tail lights.
Look how
everything
is just so
b  e  a  u  t  i  f  u  l
tonight.

He was unsure so he looked at her more intently and it seemed like the stars burned a little brighter everytime she blinked. Her lustrous eyes held the shine of a million galaxies and when she moved she swayed to a private melody in which she danced for someone yet unknown. No one could understand why her tender brows embodied a slight worry or sadness that begged for him to stay the night and cradle her head in his lap as she fell in and out of slumber. Staring at her was like a dream, and he could spend his waking life asleep if she’d continue to be the muse of his nights.

A manifestation of my heart when I’m happy. And just in case it isn’t as obvious as a clear blue sky after a storm breaks, you are the reason for my happy. Babe just like these fireworks you are breathtaking and beautiful and have just enough boom and bang to make my heart bounce about in its lonely cage. Your sparkle reminds me I’m alive. And when I’m sad your voice is so loud and it reverberates in my head drowning out the demons inside and clearing away the heavy cobwebs within. So don’t you ever be sad. Because a sad firework could never dance or light up the sky the way you always do with mine.

In the dark places
haunted memories
of you and me
linger,
as I slip into a deep reverie
that although you're gone
and I'm here all alone
I can never be
truly free.

Like breath on a windowpane the people you meet leave a transparent mist on your soul. It’s like that orchestra that doesn’t want to be silenced. Because in the infinite spaces of your mind no one really leaves. They just lie and wait for the right time.
They’re like light; it doesn’t bend and it doesn’t break.

If wishes did come true
then I wish . . .
I wish I were the air
the air that sustains you
that causes your chest
to rise and fall
the one thing you
can't live without.

Your eyes have little specks
that look like stars
whirling together
galaxies and solar systems
planets and the unknown
secrets kept
hidden behind heavy eyelids
in them I am lost
like running across a beach of diamonds
and if I was ever searching
I’d think I found
my infinity in you.

I saw an old man today
he was stood on the edge of forever
with a weary smile
he closed his eyes
and whispered a name
before taking a step
into the unknown,

and I swore
I would never be like the old man
but here I stand
with a longing in my heart
and a name tattooed across my arm
the wind she calls my name
like I wished you would a thousand times
and I take one step forward
into the unknown.

I wanna be
your enraged sense of rejection
the one to lick the flames
of your hot Southern mess.

She was more the spontaneous kind of girl. The kind of friend who taps at your 1st floor bedroom window at 4am, gets you to ninja climb down a tree, sprint halfway across town and then up a small hill just to prove to you the sunrise was really tangerine orange in colour. She was just that kind of girl. The kind you wouldn’t mind waking up at 4am for.

You settle for less than fascination with anyone who looks like they possess a heartbeat. As those tungsten stars reflect in your eyes, you dance with strangers and you give them hope they might be the one. The strange new flesh you hold onto is interesting but it isn’t the one you want to be holding. You teach your heart to ignore this. And it does as you paint on your best smile onto cherry coloured lips. But it fails to disguise the true hurt you feel inside. And when they dim the lights at closing time, stripping shadows of any hiding place, you agitate and search for the blackness and temporary comfort of blankets. Your shelter is an empty bed where you lay down an impression of loneliness. Where you curl into a tiny little ball hoping you won’t inconvenience anyone by taking up too much space. But you wake up in the middle of the night and realise that you are indeed alone. And there’s noone there to steal the blankets from. There’s noone to snuggle up to. There’s noone to share the darkness with. Flip open your phone and let the light of that small display burn your face while your eyes adjust to the offensive light. Look for that particular number, the one that’s tattooed onto your brain and ghost your fingertips over the call button. Think awhile, “Should I call? Shouldn’t I call?”

Today will end tonight
but memories linger
taunting and teasing
like the dying embers
of a stubborn flame.

“You came onto me”
“You sought me out”
“You spoke to me first”
I tell myself in my dark hours
Did that make you feel like you owned me?
As if I was a toy
and you were the boy
who ‘choose’ me
Something with a shelf life
Something that was useful
as long as I held your interest
Maybe I bolstered your interest
by being so devoted to you
It sounds so cliche, so predictable,
… so pathetic
But isn’t any relationship
Isn’t it about give and take
I was the one sided coin
loving you more …
wanted you more …
needing you more …
Maybe I made you feel I was dispensable
Could it be my fault
Or maybe I just made you feel you were indispensable
And when your fancy, inevitably, petered off
When something shinier caught your eye
I was left, discarded
to collect dust
Without a final goodbye
I told you:
I would never be a number two
I would never be a ***** little secret
I would never tolerate it
It was an ultimatum, and
you called my bluff
So good luck, go have your fun
Goodbye my sweet, I’ve had enough.

The way you get so animated when you talk about something you love. And I can hardly get a word in except for the occasional “uh huh” or “oh really”. But please don’t mistake my lack of eloquence for disinterest. I just love watching you fumble over sentences as words pour out of your mouth like a river bursting its banks.

She was brilliance, colour and strangeness wrapped in a neat package. Without speaking she points upwards to the Heavens and you strain your eyes to see translucent stars and galaxies playing amongst the secrets of the Universe. And in that fleeting moment, you realise that perhaps you have found your infinity in her. It was time to finally come home.

Carrying on
like we don’t see
we’re both staring
at the end of a story
a fait accompli,
and I’m not certain
I like how this story ends.

It was like a strangers smile could heal even the most heartsick of us. And in that glance the world was set on fire through hooded eyes and breathless words. Nothing was spoken but actions were felt. Soft and gentle like the fluttering kisses of a butterfly on your skin.

I have declared myself unsafe
unsound
unknown
unwanted
unnecessary
I’ve been condemmed
I am unsafe.

After a Summer of loving
your heart does shatter
and you can feel
each jagged edge
moving
slowly
stabbing you
shredding your insides
traveling through your veins.

I remember that first kiss
Trembling lips and breathless sighs
And the red on my shirt,
Was it blood or wine from your lips
Walk on by and my heart still skips a beat
Watch me fall all over again
Medusa’s lure in the curve of your smile.

I used to hear a whispered word. Reverently uttered in the quiet of the seconds that exist between minutes. And unspoken dreams dance faultlessly carried on the mist that floats down from the emerald trees that shimmer in the morning sun. Breaking through the clouds and slicing the magical twilight, for a second nature awakes and rejoices to a new song of repentance.

You,
are the dark circles beneath my eyes
from spending too many nights
wishing you were here
instead of there.

          You,
          are the hitch in my breath
          when someone mentions your name
          and the smile that invades my face
          when I think of the things you do.

                    You,
                    are the shiver down my spine
                    as I recall those magic moments
                    when being close to you
                    was never quite close enough.

                              You,
                              are the regret I will always have
                              a wound that just won’t heal
                              as permanent as a tattoo
                              the ghost that remains
                              you,
                              are everywhere.

The shadow you neglect
that pause as you reflect
I linger like a scar
or a childhood trauma
seared into your memory
think of me when you sense the rain
or the scent of freshly cut grass
the echoes from the howling
of a lonely freight train,
because I am that ghost
haunting your past
living in the galaxies that collide
between your shoulder blades
or the bruises that rise
black and blue
under your skin
where sweet colours bloom
to a saturated hue.

Each day you drive in circles until you realise you’ve been on this same route for months. And then the cold blows in, loudly announceing its arrival like an unwelcomed but expected guest in the the wee hours of the morning. It drags its feet across the tarmac and tiny whirling tornados follow with every heavy step. There’s nothing left to do because now, the cold is here to stay. And it’s determined to make you accept this no matter how hard you kick and scream against it. With every blow, every blast and every tingle that goes shooting down your spine, your resilience lessens. Sometimes, in a moment of weakness, you could be forgiven for even considering the cold as a welcomed lover. Because it steals your breath. And in the mornings you’d rather lie in bed surrounded by its chilly embrace.

A suicide of words
falling from my lips
onto deaf ears
yet I suffocate,
as the emptiness resonates
silently dawn veils me
in her shimmering blues
her passion bruising my skin
she takes me from within.

Alone
  and scattered
    and scared
      broken and bound by the world
        you finally find a friend
          someone not of the chaos,
        but tender moments they pass too soon
      and hope is but a flicker
    but you never even tried.

Between night owls and early birds there are spaces in between
Staring at the infinite indifference between a hello and goodbye
Falling through the gaps of recalled experiences
Those memories dance about
like dreams studded on transcendent celestial clouds
They echo and fade into the abyss of time
those who are left to reminisce
Tickled in suspended animation
Making us more then what we are
Blow them out one by one
Blow them out.

Have you touched someone lately?
Have you really touched someone?
Remember their skin?
How did it feel?
The texture, the imperfections, the scars?
Have you ever touched someone with the purpose of remembering how they felt like?
Have you ever touched someone just to feel how sunlight felt like on their skin?
Have you ever placed your hand on someone pulse just to feel its rhythm?
Have you ever traced your finger along their veins?
Have you ever imagined the blood running through them volcanoes erupting red lava?
Have you counted someone’s freckles and kissed every single one of them?
Have you memorised every single contour?
Have you ever touched someone because you knew someday you would not be able to again?
I have.

A night as dark as this and
it feels like I’m not moving.
The endless sea of dark
echoes the malancholy of my heart.
Memories fill the emptiness
with a tinge of sorrow and regret.
The could haves
and should haves
punctuated with everything in between.
There’s nothing left
but a cold shiver down the spine.
The poetics of space will leave an aftertaste
of you and me and how it used to be.

I thought that was bold
You placed my hand on your thigh
Under the table
In that crowded restaurant
A few people were staring
I could feel my cheeks burning
Your leg was on fire
And so was my desire.

Thank you,
For making me happy.
For making me smile.
For making me laugh.
For making me cry.
For making me feel.
For being the charming gardener who makes the daffodils in my heart blossom with sweet delight.

After their diaspora
all that remained
was no longer a home.

The men cut me open to have a look. They thought they could heal me so they sliced me in half. Instead of organs and blood all they found was a tangled mess of misfiring wires. They poked at the loose connections but nothing seemed to work. There was nothing but broken dreams and empty hopes. They sifted through unfinished sentences scattered among a tyranny of unspoken words. They tried and tried and tried until they tired. Wiping their brows they stitched me right up again and sent me on my way. Leave this for the next one, there’s nothing more we can do.

You find each other
like driftwood
floating in an endless ocean
towards a horizon too far out of reach
and you cling
desperately,
to one another
until inevitably,
you drift apart.

Right now these words will lie against the hum, the ambient noise, the pressure at the back of your knees, your tongue, your mouth, the knot in your shoulders and the cool exposed places on your body. I see that my gaze is frivolously considering through blinders not the meanings but objects that sparkle and shine in the sunlight. But when night falls how shall I proceed experiencing a different world with the same two eyes? The ordinary is investigated because the living is all that can be observed. Observed through the intricacies that mark the boundaries between dark and shadows, old and new. This was the meaning I found in the blurred vision of your shoulders and torso as I grappled through the fog of my own neural pathways.

Tossing and turning
in sheets you quiver
sodden under heavy blankets
the darkness it lingers and consumes,
but the morning is yet to dawn
with everything that it implies.

Those freckles on your back
I’ll trace them
and map them
my very own constellation of stars.

People fascinate me. You fascinate me. But what really interests me are the parts you keep locked away. What I see is the Image but I want to see the Real, the Object. But that’s almost always kept well-hidden in a secret garden behind high, high walls. It’s in a room where everything is stripped away and what’s left is just a naked, pure form of energy. Once in a while I catch glimpses of it. Hidden in a place where words become fragmented and superfluous. Where the rhythm of your soul fills my cavernous heart with a beautiful sound.

He was the boy with matted brown hair and bright blue eyes who sat alone on that solitary bench almost every day that summer. He was picking at the guitar planted firmly in his lap and there were pieces of scribbled note paper strewn all around him. I asked what he was doing and he said he was writing a song. I asked for whom and he said, “I don’t know yet but it’s for when I meet the perfect girl”. He was searching for that secret combination of twenty-six letters that would make her at least think of him now and then. And maybe someday even call him hers.

I would usually drive home but it was the sort of night that you just had to experience. It was one of those humid nights but chilly enough that I had to turn my collar up. So I walked back and let the pulse of the city engulf me. I felt rather cool and fancied that I struck a very Dean-esque figure walking about as adrenalin pumped through the streets and flowed into me, energising me. You suddenly grabbed my hand and I felt electricity flow through your fingers and jolt me. I think you felt it too because you smiled when I winced from the touch. Tomorrow morning the city would return to normal buzzing with business folk rushing about with cups of coffee in one hand and cellphones in the other but tonight it bristles with magik. And just like us, tomorrow we would morph into our old boring selves again but for now we could pretend to be anyone we wanted to be.

There’s a knock and before I can get to it, in comes Self Doubt barging through the door. He prances in and smiles at me like we’re old friends. And he shakes my hand and pats me on the back as he walks past me and settles into the sofa as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I’m left with my mouth agape, fumbling like a fool to shut the door and hang his coat. I’ll speak some pleasantries as he eyes my movements like a hawk staring down a prey readying itself for the final swoop. But we both know that if he’s already here, I may as well be standing naked in an open field waving a white flag of surrender. And like a fish out of water I will gasp for air. But my old friend Self Doubt and I have played this game over and over again. There have been countless nights we duel in silence just staring at each other. Because even in my weakened state I will claw and kick for any last ounce of life. We both know what will save me. But you never save me.

In that crowded restaurant, the air was thick with smoke my head was lost in a gentle buzz. The din of the dinner crowd was matched only by the music blaring on the loudspeakers. It was so loud I could not even hear myself think. A good excuse to lean in close whenever you spoke. I pretended not to hear you the first two or three times just so that you would remain inches from my face. You were so close that I could feel your hot breath on my cheek. I watched your lips move and tried to focus on what you wee saying. Every instinct told me I should lean a few inches forward and close that gap between us. But there were too many people watching. That restaurant was too **** well lit for even the briefest of encounters between waiting lips. I’m sure people were watching us. I’m sure people were watching you. Could they tell what was on both our minds? The elderly couple behind you kept looking at us. Maybe they thought we were siblings. How funny that would be because just then, you grabbed my hand from off the table and placed it on your thigh. You could’ve been a little drunk but I didn’t mind at all. Maybe I was a little bit intoxicated as well. Intoxicated on your perfume, your smile, your eyes and your thigh under my hand. You didn’t care that now you’d caught everyone’s attention. The bar manager saw and I guess he was smiling. Because given half a chance I bet he would have loved to be me at that moment. But you were with me and I was getting lost in the way your lips moved when you spoke. You kept drinking and I wished I could be the libation that would quench your thirst forever. I wished that I could be everything you ever needed. And I kept wishing we weren’t in that busy restaurant and I cursed that table for being so small. Maybe it was the smoke, or that look in your eyes, but if you would have asked me, even in a hesitant whisper, I would have taken you home with me immediately. But instead we sat there and our mouths spoke of the mundane whilst our eyes communicated the profane. I kept drawing circles on your thigh. Hoping the signal I was sending out was loud and clear. Why’d you have to be so close yet so far away?

A dip into healing meditation
warm water cascades over me
and my skin glitters like silver scales
flashing bright like diamonds
washing me anew
breathing new life into aching flesh
dancing over me
gentle like reeds along the shore
I submerge like a pearl in sea of liquid gold
refreshed I rise
a crystal swan in a sky of suns.

Your voice remains
and it echoes through the canyons
of my mind,
it would try to take me
from absent friends with hollow smiles,
still I listen and use the needle of my compass
to sew up the pieces
my broken heart.

Hey you,
Here’s a map
a path that leads
from my heart
straight to yours
if you look closely
you’ll see that although apart
mine’s cradled in your hands
and head to head
cheek to cheek
I wish I could kiss
all your demons away.

A night like this, staring down a white line and it feels like I’m not even moving. And as the headlights slice the endless sea of dark, the engine hums to the malancholy that keeps calling me home. Memories roll by with every lamp post I pass and the windshield wipers seem to beat to the rhythm of my pounding heart. The could haves and should haves punctuate every memory until there’s nothing left but a cold emptiness and a dark stretch of highway. I’m trying to forget but the poetics of space will leave an aftertaste of everything that used to be.

In perpetual darkness
as I sit in the wreckage
there’s nothing
to carry the sound
of my heart
as it shatters to pieces.

I see nothing
as I float aimlessly
in a debris of memories
made
of you and me.

Do you ever get that feeling
that you’re not sure
if you’re awake or dreaming?

Because in this emptiness
under a cloak of weariness,
you are the past
that I am tethered to
and I am the astronaut
endlessly searching for love
within the galaxies
that pool in your amber eyes
thru a sea of asteroids
I’m hoping against hope
that you will find me first.

You speak in cryptic kisses ( k i s s m e ) that you left littered
and staining my skin, black and blue from blows that once
caressed, now linger as phantom memories of phantom hands
that ******* undone. And those days, although so far
away from where I am, make me feel like a tourist in my own
body. One who stands barefoot outside in the cold, looking in
through the cracked and ***** windows of my weary eyes. But
would you return like a shark who smells blood or would you
wait like a predator in the shadows for me to completely
fall
   to
     pieces?
When all I am is a fusion of crossed wires and mixed
signals, a train barrelling through a dark tunnel of insecurities
and everything you ever said I was when I knew full well that
I wasn’t. Muscle and bone and marrow and guts, beating and
thumping in tune but out of sync to empty words and nonplussed
emotions. A heart that races for no apparent reason and familiar
faces carved into stone. Flowing through a river of blood like a
drunken sailor, with too much pride to ask for help but too much
guilt to set sail for home. So as a fool would do, I will quiver
as I drag my calloused heart towards the edge of the
mountain top where I will squint, and staring into the
setting sun place one foot in front of the other as
it singes my skin to the colour of my sins.

And there she stood, her head held high above the luminous cirrus clouds of ecstacy. She had been here before but there was never enough time to luxuriate in the feeling. Not until this moment. But now, those memories were distant like the stars you observe through a telescope. A whisper of a dream like the pretty echoes of those long gone. She closed her eyes and stretched out her arms as she exploded into a million tiny fragments. The wind carried her on its wings and scattered her among the emerald trees that glisten like diamonds in the morning dew.

I knew you’d be lovely. But we’re only here now, so in this moment please stay with me. Because you see, I can’t get a handle on time. There are seconds which feel like forever I find myself watching the words spill like wishes from your mouth. And there may come a time when you have to tell me to leave. But right now, what we are is a thousand miles apart and swirling in a moment of dizzying stillness.