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.

This emotional crutch
needs an emotional crutch
someone is always waiting
hopelessly
I am always waiting
crying out
take me with you when you go
as you disappear into the tide
that pulls you under.

I’ve tried
but I’ve taken all I can
when my tongue tries to fight
a piece of me dies trying to conceal it
there is nothing left of this heart
but a lump of meat turned to coal.

So when I’m gone
(please) don’t preserve my memory
I’m not your insect immortalised in amber
or your corpse waiting frozen in ice
don’t romanticise what this is
it was what it was till it was no more
just scatter what remains
and forget me.

I bared for you my all
and you took me to the oceans edge
washed me clean of my sins
you scrubbed the scars, dug out the hurt
till I was raw
and then you set me free, again
but were I to do anything else but return
chained
and bound to you.

A bruise is nothing. They hurt for the most part but then they heal. They’re like coffee rings that stain tabletops. Easily removed with a damp dish rag. A scar is something else. More like a true friend, always there, even if you don’t remember quite how you got it. Most people are like bruises or fleeting moments, here today and gone tomorrow. They’re like invisible ink. But a true friend, that’s a scar. A permanent imprint that’s left on the soul which marks you forever.

This is a heart
It buckles and comes unfastened

By trembling hands that search and *****
For words escaped through languid lips

Whispered promises left scattered in tussled sheets
Turn to pearls and diamonds under the weight of worn heartbeats

Like a single raindrop in a sea of emotion
Bury our sin in the slum of a broken heart

Seduction is love
And love becomes lust.

When I was cold he held my hand. He would often sing a melody that sounded like the gentle rustling of leaves. And just before stepping out into the chilly night air, he would drape himself with a jacket made of stars.

As dew drops sparkle like diamonds on the grass, the morning mist descends blanketing the ground and making me dream. I see the sky burn the the colour of a subtropical twilight and beyond the horizon are mountains devastated by harsh winds which work on the nerves and leave you a trembling wreck.

Wishing
on
the
moon
instead
because
there
are
no
lucky
stars
in
s­ight.

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

A mystery woven into the fabric of memories and unfurled as experiences like the strangers that appear in the background of old photographs. Sleeping with the windows open and listening to the wind chimes dance in the night air. The thunder rolls, the crickets cry and somewhere in the darkness an owl keeps watch. All that’s left are words to drown in. If I had to, that’s how I’d describe you. So don’t look at me like I have the answers. Because when the world walks out, you are the map and I keep getting lost on purpose.

Is it love or madness
when a desert rose blooms
where no one can see
twining a maze of desire
towards a scorching lover.

Black velvet
is draped
across the night sky
and shimmers with studded jewels.

The world is littered with words unspoken; missed opportunities and and wasted chances. And in those rare and quiet moments, if you still your racing heart and really listen, you can sometimes hear what should have been spoken.

The silence that vibrates in the soul
touches all those brave enough to feel.
Like the writhing body of a restless dancer
forced to move to an unheard rhythm.

She was waiting. Silently trying to remain as still as possible on that busy sidewalk. As nameless faces brushed past her she wondered how anyone could be lonely surrounded by so many people. She tried to remember what she was waiting for. Then it started to rain. She stretched out her arms as far as she could and smiled widely. She had been waiting for the rain. She had been waiting to be cleansed; like kisses that fall willingly from the lips of a divine lover.

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.

When you grow up
you never know
what you’ll remember
of a lost love.
But now
I remember everything
about you.

If you would just lift the fog that sits heavily upon your eyes you’ll see an azure sky. The birds swim in delight above you and they’re calling your name. And look how the sun kisses your pale skin. Can you feel it’s gentle bite teasing you? Doesn’t that warmth feel wonderful? Just breathe and let the knot that resides in your chest melt away. No one can be sad on a day like today. Open your sweet eyes to a new beginning. I can assure you the dark damp night has finally left your heart.

It must be nice
the feeling
to be wanted
to be needed
to inspire such beauty
to inspire such chaos
I just hope that one day
someone will want me
the way that he clearly wants you.

I love speaking with you
but I’m afraid
nervous and unsure
of these sentences
I string together
and how you’ll receive them
(they’re yours).

Don’t get lost in yourself
Get lost in me
I can take the troubles you carry
I can take it if you let me.

C r e a t e    t  s  u  n  a  m  i  s
u n d e r        m y             s k i n
b y   g h o s t i n g   f i n g e r t i p s
o n                m y             h i p s.

Come the weekend,
I’ll tell you goodbye again
and settle into unrequited love
because you linger in every moment
in the mornings you flood the room with light
and in the nights you soak every corner of my dreams.

Love is
the bullet
you fired
from your
heart straight
into mine.

Walking alone along the salt-soaked boards of my haunted memories. It’s a trip down one of those smoked filled open-mic nights where the air is heavy with stale perfume, heavy eyelids and painted on smiles. I find myself meandering the city streets and cobbled sidewalks searching for a ghost. In hopes that I’ll round the corner and collide with my own version of magik and inspiration. I’m intoxicated by a sweet anticipation like a flint flirting with a spark on the soul. A hope for some glimmer of warmth or recognition from the empty stares of a stranger’s eyes.

But knowing me, I’ll be the one standing on the other side of that burning bridge with a can of gasoline in one hand and matches in the other. And should they ask why I did it I’ll just light a cigarette and say, “it’s times like these you know the true nature of the beast”.

Stand under the red neon of that dingy bar. Use it’s flicker to still your heartbeat and tell me the things you can’t as you peel the label off your empty Copenhagen bottle.

Bill and his girl; is it weird they’re so much like you and I? But instead of traveling some foreign country, ours is a world of distant suns, constellations and galaxies. So much more than Paris, New York or Japan. Dream your wildest dream and I’ll paint it in words on our canvas made of sparkling diamonds. And when we need to rest we’ll lay down on a shooting star and you can tell me where you learnt to smile as bright as the moon on a cloudless night.

Sometimes all we are looking for is a gentle squeeze of the arm or a comforting smile from a friend. Leave the fireworks and violins to Hollywood and come and give me a hug because in this house, the smallest gestures are always the most powerful.

The ghosting of fingertips on bare skin. And closer than the vein that throbs in your neck. Close your eyes and imagine me there. In an embrace that chills you right to the core. Holding on like a memory that won’t fade.

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.

And should they want to know what I think of you? Read this and understand that every alphabet is drenched in thoughts of you. And it would take a thousand words and a thousand more to even begin…

The words that long to be heard hover precariously on the edge on her lips. End the monologue of deep breaths and heavy sighs and just ask her already.

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.

Stuff my hands deep into my pockets. I’ll cut my fingers as I fish for a quick and caustic wit. The reality of life is disinteresting. But I’ll hold onto a host of memories painted with the scent of you.

In the absence of the night
Everything wrong seems right
We need more dark
To cover up the crimes of your heart.

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

There was a time
you meant the world to me
and holding your hand
was everything
I needed.

I cried for you
on the kitchen floor
and then decided
I wanted some coffee.

Everyone says
it’s going to hurt now
before it gets better
but I don’t think
I can wait that long
or maybe
I just don’t want to let go.
I’d rather have something
than go on
with nothing.

In the fleeting moments of pleasure
we find happiness.
For we can’t have everything we want
without effort and suffering and problems and tears.

My thoughts tread barefoot
across the terrain of words
that spill nonchalant from your lips.

So am I wrong to believe
that in between each breath you take
is a heaven made just for me?

Sunrise,
steady me
so I can move through this world.
Sunrise,
inspire me
******* away
by what you unfurl.

As the sun dips
behind the hills
open your windows
open your heart
and listen to the breeze
as it kisses the pines
because here in the night
in the comfort of the dark
under a blanket of stars
I’ll sing to you
a lullaby.

I thought you were the boy
with faraway eyes
and then I discovered
that you were
just dumb.

So please
no matter what
do not love me for my skin
it’s just a soft shell
easily shed,
cut,
and burnt
love me for how I make you feel.

What the body has remembered
words cannot form into language
muscle memory is touching your side of the bed
heartache is finding it cold and empty.

Crashing like a wave
tears resting upon your lips
they fall into me.

I like it best
when we are sharing
quiet wordless
conversations.

Digging through the rubble
searching for hope
even though hope
seems like a blurred emotion
better left off
to the somnambulists
who often live their lives
in a haze of damp regrets.