This road will never change course.
And we've been here so many times before,
that what was once a spitting blood sport
is now home sweet home.
And the bitter air is now strangled
with the bitter words from your unforgiving mouth.

I deeply inhale these hurt words but cowardice
has struck me with the chord of aching

                                                         ­            silence.

I self medicate
"the sickness"
desensitise
with ***,
overdose
on pleasure,
on pain,
to numb this
parasite
screaming
in my brain.

threads of fire
unravel
and shatter the sky
in shards of
blue

like shooting stars
they pierce the air
yet all I could think
was to wish
for
you.

My soul is sick
it itches for
a place I didn’t
know could exist
it unfolds
the four corners
tucked away on earth
and seeks comfort
in the hearth
of another person’s touch
but still it seeks
and still it screams
that home isn’t on this earth
for me.

I was dead
inside
like the leaves of
autumn
until your
love
sprung me back to
blossom.

He clipped
her wings
to stop her soar
forgetting
she still
had legs to
walk

The voices
crawl the corridors
of my brain
they stain
the walls
with their handprints of
mockery
and obscenities
and the screaming
amplifies through the
vents
of my mind
it pierces the
swollen air
so high pitched
I hear it and howl.

I have tried
to prey on these
voices
to lock them
and box them
but they are
now all I know
in my little home
that should they leave
the silence
will scare me.