A,

pretentious guitar wielding battle warrior quoting Nietzsche,

listening to old songs they don’t play on the radio anymore

and burning at night, burning alive with smokey lungs and charred fingers

and curls soaked terribly from desert rains in May,

lankey arms exposed for hours at a time in hottest weather, basking in sunlight,

still keeping pale but maybe his eyes darken a little.

marron, they say in french, those pretty eyes with lashes like down,

so long you could sweep the floor with them.

what a baby-faced angel sonofabitch smelling sweetly of **** in the afternoons,

a walking catastrophe Dean Moriarty flailing arms around,

a terrible dancer.

a terrible lover. a terrible terrible boy.

involved in a *******, no doubt,

by God he has all the little girls under his thumb,

under his bleeding fingers as he serenades them

songs they only know of because of him.

all the ***** characters from smokey back rooms in the 20’s, 50’s

he knows them all

and hammers out their songs bang bang bang on his guitar like a visionary

of jazz, ***, pills and powders all secrets hidden behind his eyes.

The ******* child of the stars

I am forced to hate him

But my love for him gnaws away at my sanity

all his friends are cracked,

deadbeat downtrodden unlistened to voices of our time.

he says he is a pacifist, but he’s killing us all.

Did your mother mourn your first locks

whe she found out the truth

about the thoughts

hidden behind your eyes

as secretive as pressed flowers hidden

in pocket bibles.

-

These leaves you pluck from their bindings,

and roll into cigarettes;

they read ‘Ezekiel’.

-

Your mother

must look at you as a baby

with a two-ton heart

and your mind being

a whirlpool of water;

slightly polluted

but as warm as Sunday’s bath.

-

You’re forever drawing in bathers

that drown in your presence.

-

Being close to you

brings me ever closer

to drowning.

-

And your mother

wants your girls

to come up for air

The hungry bees are singing

and chewing through the ceiling

above your bed

they are just like you

-

They sing songs about him

and they are as hungry as

you are just to hear him

whisper your name

The room was icy

and my hands were frozen stiff,

I curled my little fingers

into my palms and looked at you

-

Your eyes were like those marbles

that I used to skip along the ground

in school

And all the girls would fight over

who got the biggest, prettiest marble

-

I wonder if they fight over your eyes too

On my seventeenth birthday

I left talcum footprints

On the stairs

As my feet padded around

the house.

-

I woke up late to no buzzing phone

And a birthday cake

hidden under

the bathroom sink

-

I spent the day weightless

but as evening came

my body turned to

heavy lead

-

I was poison

amongst the lively

asian men

and women

that planted food

on my table

that I made toxic

-

I knew now

that my fate was sealed

in the gold wall decals,

the birds that never sang

Do you remember

when you were thirteen

you wanted to dye your hair

just to spite your mother

and you would parade around the house

wearing

your sister’s stolen lace bra

and ‘pink lady’ stickers

on your nose.

-

Do you remember

when the house got colder and you’d wear

slippers over your tights

and you’d always cry

even though you weren’t very sad

-

Do you remember

when you turned sixteen

and you went to a disco

and walked home, barefoot and weak-limbed,

swearing you’d never go again.

-

Do you remember

when

you ended up alone

so you dressed up each night

in fancy dress

and you hated yourself

for having no friends

so you danced around

your room to led zep.

-

Do you remember when you dropped acid

tired of being a straight A student

and you told your mother you hated her

but bought her roses

and painted her nails as she slept

I am female

I keep boys under my skin

they think they think

they’re

right deep under my skin

but my skin is deeper than

the fault lines

that carry love waves

and I like it that way

-

You know me, you love me

you care for me

sometimes

-

I do too, humouring

those that are lost in my flesh now

swimming in my blood stream

tunnelling through my veins

when really I just want to

rip apart yours