The old adage ‘opposites attract’ is such bull crap seeing how similar we both are and how well we get along together. So scoot on over here, swallow your pride and grab hold of my hand. Let’s give ‘em something to talk about.

I’m a pyromaniac
so what did you expect I would do
when you come in here
looking
so
****
hot.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

Don’t be so harsh on them. We are all secondhand treasures. Each of us bruised and battered in some way or form. We’ve just gotten really clever about hiding our dings and chips. In the end, we’re just looking for somewhere soft to land. And you know what…living in reserve can be so exhausting. So go on and smile. Who knows, you may just brighten up someone’s day.

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.

To her, you’re the spirit that lingers in a house after everyone is gone.
I’ll bet you’re even the nervous insomnia that keeps her up at night.

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.

It starts as a pounding heat in the depths of your tummy which radiates out to the palms of your hands. The type of heat that develops into a flame, one that burns and marks your soul with the perfect scent of another person. There it stays and lingers. And that’s when you know you’re ruined for life. Noone else will ever come close to being as perfect.

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

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

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.

Sunday morning
last night on my breath
your scent lingers
and your ghost still fresh on my mind.

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 wears a fine cloak of mist
I take her hand and she leads me
through a forest of glowing eyes
the branches sigh
brushing and scratching against our naked legs
as the stars dance like fireflies
streaking magik against God's velvet canvas
I wonder where we are
and how the moonlight dances upon her silken hair
she stops to stare
and then I realise
it was me
all along
I was the girl with transparent skin
lithe and glowing from within.

My desperate hands
search for the answers
lost in the brambles
among the valleys
and peaks
and soft arches of your sigh
looking for the key to a heart
I once lost in a frenzy
of lust
and profanity.

Your smile is electric
setting off
lightning strikes

inside my heart
shattering my beliefs
shaking my walls

breaking my resolve
bringing this human
to her knees.

You came in like a tornado
and intoxicated me
suffocated me
with words and thoughts and ideas
you are a single incident
an organised whole
perceived as more than the sum of your parts
your voice, your gestures, your smile
you’ve stained me
you are my Gestalt.

Your eyes flash like mirrored lightning
a fire that burns of drowsy desire
those somnambulant romances
heavy and damp
where hope grows in a meadow of whispers
like the alchemist and doyen of deconstruction
it echoes in twilight’s caress
willingly a bolt is unhinged
breathed out heavily between sighs
when passion ignites the plumes of incandescent liquid ash
and untethered silhouettes
find ease and comfort in the contours of shadows
transforming a dimly lit cabin
into a paradise of colours
and hastily made promises.

For the fifth night in a row I find myself fully awake and staring at the rafters of my bedroom. There was nothing to show for the sense of tiredness I felt a couple of hours ago except for my eyes still heavy with sleep. I prop myself up on one elbow and find my cat curled up in between my legs. The predictability of my nightly routines is somewhat comforting. My curtains are drawn as they always are when I sleep and the sky is unusually bright illuminated by a spatter of stars and a silvery moon casting a blue hue over everything. It is a quiet night but it isn’t silent. For silence does have a sound, the sound of stillness. Soon that moon will be gone and I rub my eyes as I marvel at the subtlety of perfection in the impermanence of time.

Everyday I ask myself what I can do about this nightmare
before it turns into a giant mushroom cloud exploding in my horizon.
I shudder as I feel the rapture building within, and in the stifling heat
I find myself constantly having to shake myself out of the thought of your lips
as they dance to a heavenly rhythm just before you smile. But these crashing waves are relentless,
dragging me down, robbing me of my escape, as a jealous ocean won’t let me leave,
I am captive in its dark depths …
… staring into the beautiful abyss, I breathe out a prayer,
[consign me
under your gaze
into eternity
with a single
chaste,
but lingering kiss].

I sought in you
the stars and the moon
but you said your
"I love you"
came much too soon
your kiss sighs 'Yes'
but your hands
they're screaming 'No'
with you I don't know
if I should stay
or if I should go.