It rained
For the first time in three weeks,
During the hottest summer in living
Memory, the day I’m visiting
My recent past,
Almost perfect I’d say.

With all the open doors and windows
The smell of rain on the
Scorched ground swims through
The house
A pleasant, calming, euphoric smell
A natural relief.

And the day fell of this day,
This important day,
It’s perfect

I thought I’d never do something
Where I was anxious
And comfortable
But ready
I never thought this would happen


Never mind
Brushing my teeth in the bathroom
Crying
Drunk

The smell of rain
Gone,
Instead it’s behind my eyes
Now oceans awakened
Running dry
Drowning new rocks,
Lightly released from its surface

It’s a new age.

Fall asleep
In a glass coffin
Tears locked, streamed
Down either side of my skull

For the foreseeable future.

Did you question your mother
Did she really believe
That all she does is sing and make you weep
And she cannot do better?

Our minds in sync
For twenty years in bliss
But now she knows I'm a freak and spends obscene
On the drink to get thin

You're sad in battle
And dad's in a cage
And all she's does is take to the stage to pour the pain
Into the next bottle

Weep to mother
Mummy knows best
But mummy's scream is her last breath
Because under my roof we know better.

From bedroom past
I could see the sky
A most sprawling adventure out in front of me
Beckoning me to come a little closer

From this bedroom
I can see the wind in the evergreen
And the sky gently invited my nervousness
Into the trusted land

This room is a fountain
Gathering up any ***** shedded from my trauma
And laying purity into the water
In hopes that I can have again.

Where’s the romance in a coffee house, where’s the romance in my ability to see
the romance in a coffee house. Clearly the romance belongs to those who aren’t aware of the romance.

We who see it cannot participate in the romance. Just observe. Whether it be
ironic or envious, either way, there’s no way to ever burn your vision and experience and replace them with brand new lenses.

Where’s the contentment in your own home and life, wheres the contentment in my ability to see
the contentment in your own home and life. Clearly contentment belongs to those who fall on hard times and, in a bitterness, strive for contentment.

Those who don’t have it and never will, spit on those who do, not out of hate, or out of jealously,
but out of pity. Like romance, within romance, contentment can cause comfortability,
And terrific misery. Welcome the misery though, you’ll never get to experience this again once you
Cast it away.

Where’s the misery in anxiety and depression, where’s the misery in my ability to see
the misery in my anxiety and depression. Clearly misery belongs to those who are
Possessed by their anxiety and depression, but, not taken over by it. Clearly misery belongs to those who
Are close to those who are possessed by their anxiety and depression, and like a exorcism, the
Loved one dies in an attempt to extract the devils.

When my mother told me you died
She was your best friend
It hurt like hell but softly faded
But the pain never ends

It strung us up in the summer
I can't feel pain right now
I see you in the cold rough sea
Being far from your pain as can be

She can't see you leave
She loves to know you're free

We love you as much as we can
So long my darling
Float in her heart not in heaven
I can tell you'll be here forever

She can't see you leave
She loves to know you're free
We love you for all time
My mom has known for all time
She'll love you for all her time.

Lightly open your fingers one by one
And the rose petals will start to drift away
Taken by the wind
Down the street
Paddling the pavement or ascending
Up into the sun bleached sky

With one touch they break free of their mother
And float far down into their grave
Taken by the wind
Disintegration in the street
Crumbling in the finger tips of a child
To again drift away
All destined for different journeys.

Like a mother
I'll eat myself into oblivion
Turn in on myself
Affect my bones and decay
Offered a smoke
I felt sick to someone so kind
White socks
I'm just body inside this shell
Just an alien trying to destroy its vessel
And the body
It does what it pleads
But I wish
Tells it to sleep later and later again
Against itself
Self-destruct
Since my bodied child as a conduit
He's still in there
He's a he
And he's scared.

Sorry I'll say no
Thinking it'll save me
So this one won't last long
I'll get rid of this one one day.

He cares the least about his traveller
Yet clings to it as if
"Will you save me eventually?
No
I don't think I will".
That's fine I understand
Say hello to them down there
Glasses, white socks home town.

I need you to scar with your most true hate,
                                                                       into my face.

I need you to carve flames fiercer than my regret,
                                                                       into my face.

I need you to produce gashes as figures of sincerity,
                                                                       into my face.

I need you to be afraid of my body -
                                                                       the deformities you caused to terrify you.

I need you to erase your being - to scatter your ruins,
                                                                       down my throat.

For future imitations,
                 I need you to be present.

For future imitations,
                 The true ones will scorn you.


The true ones will never get through,


You need to be held.
                  You need never be forgiven.

You're the sweat in my sheets
You're the reason I can't sleep
Toss and turn in a manic frenzy
You're why I can't be

I'll turn in a day
In a wild fantasy I try to keep at bay
Keeping me up till three am
You're why I let all my clothes stay frayed

I'll sleep well
Knowing there's nothing there
Nothing that'll make you appear
Behind my screen

Just a shame. My Father burnt a rodent,
And we have visitors in our home.
For once we probably shouldn’t elicit such
violence.

So far the dream has been tumultuous,
There has been no ******.
This time I think we should attack his psyche; erase the lines in the sky
have his enemy call.

Does he give the mind freewill and tear down the enemy,
Debating on his happiness as a whole.
The wind pipes suggest to leave it be but the kingdom encourages
Madness savagery.

The enemy awaits and is kind,
******* kind as a castaway.
The low brow suggests complete massacre of the mind
Though whose mind - he is not one to discriminate.

Every dead fly
Crushed beneath your feet
Splintered into the sole
Limbs dragging along the floor.
I’m watching you as I observe this
As I write this
You’re nice but cruel
Explaining your troubles.
Only you make the simplest things
Burst with malice
And I feel sorry for you
That you have to receive my invisible
Cruelty.
You’re still wearing those shoes
And the fly is still on the floor
Like a butterfly.
Would this life taking influence
The future
Holds my tired voice
Barely reciprocating your speech.
And replying just for nothings
But genuinely receiving and
Reaching out to you
That happens often.
Just those cruel moments are so few yet
So impactful
They switch my entire view
Spin it to see your red air.

I fell over hard this evening
Fell into the river and washed up upon the shore
Glaring at the sun through the water
It seems that I now know more than I did before

I wept in the middle of the field
And on the way home I exploded into a thousand tiny pieces
In my antique town we said goodbye,
Left you here, suspended in a time plastered with our faces.

You see me here,
We writhed around in sorrow
No we know the world isn't fair
Long before we face tomorrow

I bloomed in the field of despair
A brand new being, beaten but pointed towards the light
Or so I hope, how can I say this
When I don't know how to live without you?
Should we collide?

You see me here,
We writhed around in the field of despair
Where we bloomed,
Where our few blue birds sang of love and fear.

Those flowers
That ****** me 
On the table 
Pink and green against 
The brown
That table stand
That stood before the curtains 
Of fust and weight 
Rejects the calm and 
Curls too harm and help and hand 
All but mess. 

The serenity but misses my and her life gone by him
the flowers that ******* ****** me,

Hate on those tables that host a meaner guest than mine of
Which do not exist of your.

The flowers 
The ******* flowers despised me
**** and shipped from **** against my mind 
You know you don’t feel me yet you still observe 
Like a parasite feeding on space between seats but flowers
****** me more
Than 
Your table clash 
Down

Don't know if I'm becoming paranoid of it my tooth is coming loose,
But I can't seem to get a hold of my head and place a hand on my grief.
Don't know if I'm more sensitive now than I was before in time,
Or whether my heart has lost its gut which makes me send pics for free.
Don't know if I'm more open to life and to succumb to the pleasures of love,
But I have as sting in my stomach that pulls and hurts to strain.
Don't know if my doors are open and I welcome anyone inside,
Or whether I'm inviting my own demise into my frail mind.

It’s like walking in the sky
The scale of which you can only see
From high above on that tiny ridge
Sacred of how free you may actually be.

What would happen if I threw myself off?
Slam against the rocks
Break my back?
Scramble down, rip my skin from the top.

There’s too much beauty
It’s wearing to uncover
Far too frail to actually traverse
Instead, pay your respects to it’s mother.

So, once soaring for the sun
Stay in the moment
Most of all, your skin
Shares the fortune of laying frozen.

I’m in this village
And I wanna stay
I wanna go
There’s no room to watch things grow

Where the accounts are of fields
And the love in the pond
But don’t make me stay
Like I’m going to leave

Once our tide rolls in
On this side I’ll leave
But the other I’ll return one day
Bringing the scorched fruits tray need the rain

And I’ll just talk and I’ll just talk
Until my voice runs and ripped apart
There’s such beauty in the huge roads cascading through the woods
It’s like there’s nothing better.

I have no one

But I have my book,
and I grab my book as I sleep

For it is the one being I love with, 
and the one being that lies with grace

The qualities I strive for lies within the book, 
the satisfaction for what it is

It leans on my lower shoulder,
Without moulds it sinks into the crevices

It doesn’t give back for like me,
It believes it is incapable

Yet why does my book feed me when I am hungry,
even I am ravenous and doesn’t contemplate

So who comes close shall not waver at the sight,
For knowing they will never come close

To how we love.

I don't feel the love
It flies at speeds I can't take
It pays to watch it slip away
And dance under the deepest lake

So dive under my window
So raw and red and ruined
So restless in its might
Blocking my utmost mind

I can't take the love
It pumps too fast for me
For I'd rather be one with the trees
And dance naked for I'll be free

But friends would make me happy so
That would be nice to see
For my mother and my father's sake
I'll live my life for me

I'd live my life so fast and pure
I'd live my life for me
I'd love my life so fast and sure
I'd love my life for me.

If I am to die in front of other people
Then I must be mortal
Wherein lies my body my eyes
To strip others of their immortality.

I have my mother’s temperament

In one moment I can
Be the sun
In another I can posses a grey soul and
Hang it out to dry
Embracing the endless breeze from the
Back bedroom window
Yet a few meters away, I wanted
To throw myself from mine
Leap down, maybe water the plant
To just lay down, it down
In the road

My example of me, my mother, and I.

Soft touch
Lamp glow
Vegetable blood
Running slowly for
In this moment, I have created all this.

Language is ruthless
So I’ll make it toothless
Do I sink or speak?
I’ll just drown myself meek, it’s sad
      I’ve created all of this.

I’m texting my friends
Wait, they’re not really friends
So I’ll just sit here be faithful, my father
said wait,
Yet this seems entirely wasteful

Now I’m getting furious
You’re taking this far too serious
Don’t jump from your window
You don’t know but the sky’s closed
The things that I have seen
Make me bleach myself clean
For our momentous multitude of sins,
You see,
In my moment,
           I have created all of this.

I ran with the beautiful man in makeup
being so afraid, the bombs getting closer
and closer towards someone I once loved.

The endless road stretched far into the
side of the hill, a bunker room filled with
background people and only one love.

Where am I in this blitz world? To be sure
I’ll have to sacrifice myself, leave the door
open and welcome the vampires.

But if that makeup man should lose his
precious creased smile, one day the wind
shall wipe away and it’ll vanish.


All my friends are there under the comfort
of the imminent doom. We found solace in
war and memories in darkness.

In this dream of reunion people were
missing. But they were replaced with
those I have chosen to be family.

This family is not aware of my addition to
to their home. Under one roof we thrive
and revel to continue deflecting the blitz.

So the school party leaves the simulation
for a more obscure living. Gods plan was
to make ours a more ingenuous life.

To make it painful he had to make it
painless. We mask and hold off the bombs
to free us so we can run smiling.

I’ll listen to that sad song
Put on the appropriate face
Feel it
Pretend that my heart intertwined with the
words
Totally let it into my head
Then it’ll be mine
To feel when I’m not feeling at all
Even if it’s numbing
Even if it has malicious intent
It’s better than nothing
It’s better to feel the lines be drawn in my
mouth
Than to attempt to make your eyes into a
joyful slither
Only adapt when the song ends or
Switched to the next
Is the entire playlist morose?
Most likely

How do you provoke
Emotion
Without emoting any?

Oh your poor, cursed young man
Born a ghost, not once alive
Your life oh, it so makes me sad
Begin as an end, foreshadows the bad

And oh this man was never too old
He died before his life could
**** out every piece of his heart,
Made sure he was all that would.

The eternal begins with a storm
A roaring fire
A flame
But you cut me down to my knees and said
We’re all liars
We’re all sane
Punish the ones who imitate reflection
Who look to the sky
But only see planes
By far more expansive that is your mind
So much you’ll fry
Too much you’ll die.
So much disdain
And too much pain.

To hope one day to seize the pain
Bury it down far and watch it decay,
But one day it’ll return and crawl up my leg
Dig under my skin, name it’s home where it fed.

Long gone but never forgotten you see
I can delve in deep, reanimate the feeling,
And I’m sorry it’ll never be the same again
But it was never my fault
I should’ve stayed in bed, not
Hurt myself
Pound on my chest
And put it back inside.

One time I felt like the world was mine
Like I could whisper to corpses, make them come alive,
Inside my belly I was turning over
Neither good not bad, an ecstatic lover.

Don’t put it back inside.

“To sync with me
Was never to be”,
You said in your head loudly
But not I’m free
I don’t want to be
My move was much more cowardly.

Long gone but never forgotten you see
I can delve in deep, reanimate the feeling,
And I’m sorry it’ll never be the same again
But it was never my fault
I should’ve stayed in bed, not
Hurt myself
Pound on my chest
Don’t leave it out
Put it back inside.

Your life force joined with the rain
Smashing into smithereens
Hitting the ground onto what's left
Of the remnants of the earth

The surface is broken
When your soul prepares to wonder
With Christ on your wrist
And love above and around your bed

We're smothered insane
And we're not ready for you to go
But still the rain comes and goes
From the sky in which you ascend

Don't dream of me
Care for me here and love me gone
Remember my journey into pain
With this I'll never be far again.

I have always been under the impression,
Or been surrounded by, that
Women are far too sophisticated to be
held down by material things.

They don’t need television, all they have is
the sun, whether they like it or not,
When the moon joins the sky at night and
Where their fires flame in conversation.

Beyond men, myself, because of subtle
Behavioural conditioning differences in
youth
Women taught insecurity.
This in turn makes for a heart to heart
person, trust, loyalty, kindness.

Or maybe it’s just my
Mother
The one person, there’s only one.
This one has taken up so many others’
places in my life, scattered amongst every
good soul
I see my mother.

The most sophisticated. A loyal song
Beyond anyone’s understanding but I think
I am
Nearly there. Close enough to touch it
Far enough to keep itself
From entrapment.

Love, her

It's god you need
To help with your own battle
The war to open your eyes
The fight to set yourself free

I believe in you
There is strong devotion
Strong enough to love
To push it straight through

How do you sleep at night?
I'd break in two, a thousand times
Because I sleep in your light
How do you sleep at night?

Take what you can
I am right front of you
Take me where you go
And I'll weep at where you stand

You make me see how to love
And I never knew what that was,
Maybe I can't hold the right words
But I'll set them free, like doves

You make sense to me
I see what you feel
How you see colours
How I feel the sun on our pale skin

How do you sleep at night?
I have shrieked a million times
Because I shed little light
You fight wars in your mind
But that's all I see
As I have killed a hundred times
So how do you sleep at night?

Pondered on a love letter
To my favourite season
And wondered how would it manifest,
In the cold, when I prey it’s freezing.

The precise nature of stringing the right words
Makes my skin sizzle
So I wait in the dark,
Look out the window, lovingly into the drizzle.

This is a love letter to orange light,
To the sharp, blade like breeze
A celebration pre ritual
For the day when the year leaves.

In the imminent weeks
The front facing windows shall turn brown
How elegant is their decay
The leaves experience, like us, their breakdown.

I love the death of everything
But I do not endeavour to appear sadistic.
It must be respected
And so I am joyful, but not altruistic.

These words write themselves
I could write them forever,
Scrawling in verse that would not change their mortality
Being as free as a bird, myself not ever.

Oh I love it so,
How do I begin to express my gratitude?
Maybe I should plunge myself into the soil
This’ll give me time to brood.

Give it time and it’ll be wonderful,
Lines that’ll be at one with nature
And I’ll return to my window,
Now able to view it as portraiture.

Crawling out of the ground,
The spirit was born where it’s misty and warm
She had the longest hair which, when on the ground, tangled
And begin to scream in a storm, thus was spun, Autumn.

Walking about playing with my hair
I never noticed the beauty of the cold English air

Our lives settle around after dark
Upon the damp dark floor with not a care

I love the bleak barren trees
Like arms reaching out to calm us into
Into the arms of winter I go.

Autumn's an empty nest
A spiral of spindly survival
With lights gently pushing through

Candle-lit homes house grief stricken hearts
We see her all the time in our favourite winter spots

This walk where we picked our summer fruits
All shrivelled up as the disaster of life picks at our roots
We'll live and love to let you back in

Just a moment to bring you the cold English sea
In so many branches of love we weep.

And hope is the hardest when it's all you've got
Staggered back in fear at the heaving in her lungs
When hope is the only thing you have it loses
Under the weight of your love and grief in your eyes

Sending fire into the night sky where I hope she sees
It pains me to say that in years your touch will be gone
Breathing in heavy hope into my lungs like smoke
Like far it ate away at the scar and left me limp sack

We reached so far into the light
It burnt out hands and left unruly scars
Scorned across our faces
Blatantly pulling the plug on our faith.

You left us in the sun
On a beach covered with snow
Frozen motionless waves
Bereft and the creasing stomachache glows

Stuck in a pool in the middle of us
Silent and stale in the heat
She isn't afraid of the lumps on her chest
And she isn't afraid to tell us this is it

Her hair started again on her head
But damaged under the fluorescent lights
If she's in the kitchen as the last time I saw her
The hell is in town and in the sights that I've seen

My mouth's burnt and sour and sore
And my skin is stretched into a smile
Sullen are my words and soft are my thoughts
So frail, so fraught, entirely on the ground.

My heart is sore
From yearning to love
It sinks so deep
tears rain down from above

A boy is all
A simple embrace
Which will ignite the fire
My heart is placed in a daze
My heart is placed in a daze

The aroma of coffee
The soft brush of a coat
The call that comes from my window
The bracing wind upon which I float

My chest is weak
From heaving nothing
It barely moves
My heart is weak from hoping
My heart is weak from hoping

Come well along
The rolling fog shrouds me
Left without a hand in the darkened field
Now my heart knows there is little time to breath.

Staring into that shining star
To make your world around you darker
Trying to focus on the ripples of light
emanating from the centre
As if you’re something to someone

Staring into that beautiful oblivion
That’s what it must be like to fall in love
And fall so hard you cannot bare to look
For it’ll be a million miles away from your
heavenly vision.

Naked in my bed
Bathed in sunlight
Sitting thinking what does my life mean

And what will I become
If I don't leave my pillow
And cancel my dentist appointment

What do I do
When I can't sing into my pillow
Rip a hole in the fabric
Sing deep and softly
Suicide's not an option when your mind's hollow

Skip a beat
Skip a groove in my sleep
So tired I have to leave

Of the noise
Or the lack of within the walls
It's too loud without it.

One ear for the pillow
One ear for the storm
My feet clutch the rails
As one piece for the pawn

The leaves rustle
As the light slowly fades
Upon my chair a dream
So brutally laid

If not tonight
I shall never sleep
If not slain
Why would I weep?

One breath alive
One slice of my throat
My glass tips over
One drop becomes a moat.

I will not waste my youth
For wasting youth is selfish.
Ethereal dreams are the only source for
some of us,
Since wasting while young is our ultimate
act.

Our ultimate act dies,
And our youth leaves us.
These false hazy summers are so
desirable yet so far,
Polaroid evidence captures them to be the
ultimate fallacy.

Over false tales of boats on water,
This age cannot live a song.
The cigarette shall burn a hole in your
longing lie of a heart,
And how does this picture live outside where
the world is too cruel.

For me the world is too cruel to answer to,
Acting upon our land but hers.
Our mother’s mother earth presents the
sky each morning,
When to only have the true ones isolated,
in deep sorrow and mourning.

There is a circle in the trees
Whilst I listen to music summoned. By
Nature
Accompanied by the wide open doors,
Letting the cool summer evening air
Embrace the malnourished insides of my
Home.
Soaring harmonies from Ms Welch
Provides the perfect mood for
Two moths to court each other
And seeing this it seems like the sky
Will never turn black. Stay the
Transcendent navy blue I
Grew up with
Ten years down the line I’ve never failed
In really loving this never ending
art.

My room is red and blue 
Underneath is where I dwell 
Proclamations of sin ensue 
Bargaining the broken gates of hell 

Somewhere in this eternal life 
My mother’s sanctuary is frail 
Whereupon moments are broken through strife 
My fathers pain blossoms from rage

To have the origin of sorrow 
At your doorstep means to conceive an end
Though this end may not be tomorrow yet
Today, I shan’t be your friend

The voice deep inside my ear
Releases an abundance of noise,
A constant battle of sound lures
War to my bed.

There is no blockade for
This year long masterpiece,
In which the viewing makes a man tremble
In his descent to real earth.

He hears what is truly there
Beneath the earth yet so above,
Screams and drama shake the waters but
You must shake my waters to escape.

                      

Another bed holds sanctuary
A sacred place to push out the voices,
Oh so terribly violent is my head
An internal part but never letting go.

The stairs are more like home
I can thrash my head against opposing walls,
Only to have them reach out and pretend
Something is just a part of us.



A real rush
A real stagnant noise,
What can reside in such noise?
What could withstand such a beating?

It’s worse than any abuse though
It’s weaker than any true reality,
Is the skull so fragile to let something so savage in?
Do the walls see what there is or immerse themselves in other reality?



The reality.
The reality no one sees reality.

But the reality everyone feels reality.
The reality that connects us all reality.

Relatable reality.
Hopeful reality.

Wonder reality.

I sing songs
Of love I know nothing of
I write love
Of which I know not of
Where can they go?
They ride on the sea to nowhere

I write songs
Of words that can't fathom
I scrawl lives
That I cannot have faith in
Where should they go?
They tread the path to other care

You wrote me
Alone in the bedroom
And I sang songs
Of love that you see straight through
But they are real
They ride the light that shines through you.

I want to throw myself off a cliff
When I hear my mother's voice
Like a soft death
A dog death
That she comforts and hides in
Whispering tender nice things

Her voice is fur
It is soft and wriggly like a dormouse
Capable of entering every nick and cranny
Making a space it's own
Pummelling my senses  
It opens myself up to prickly situations

Sad times
Despite this blanket of sound
It attempts to heal our wounds
Cradling in a wrap around scarf of energy
And lifting her head up into your lap
You, quietly sing her to sleep
The last thing she will feel,
That voice, as described is a warm cloud
Bursting with despair
Gushing over into our home
Still, it is a kind of drowning.

I want to leave for London in a car that tramples the sunken roads,
But the arrogance of this place is always stronger than the will to keep convention, 
Where their lives are propped up in bronze coated frames,
But quickly I shall impale the corners, starting with the holes of the house.

But this place is confused and left to entrap it’s own young,
And having own sons tainted so you put up walls to keep your sainthood,
Since he’s losing it and drinking again which can’t be seen by the friends,
At last this shall all be our story, 
Coming up with even more obscenities! 


Come on it can’t be held together,
It can’t be helped either,
It can’t be that perfect show,
Where the arm extends far further than it should for her,
It doesn’t tell you how far it goes,
It doesn’t tell what it’ll achieve,
Come on she knows don’t tell her again,

Watching this shrink infatuate
something, a fetish,
Beyond even the most taboo the family
Breaks 
Leaving him and her to suffocate within their own walls,
Thriving yet completely truthfully dying,
Being a saint engages in pride, 
again, 
indulging in fallacy.


But I am happy,
For I know in London I can’t be touched for I shall sever the fingers and 
Suckle the blood, 
Away from the heat.
The complete heat
The absolute sweltering
And
The ultimate saints.

I’m scared of being alone forever.
I’m terrified of my sought after future.
I’m petrified of my suffocating destiny.
I’ll try to let it slip by, but still
find me. Enthral me.
Isolate me and,
Eventually
**** me.

When you grow older,
The fondest memory you have is of
Plucking her hair from her scalp.

And she appears in the mirror behind you,
Tying the straps to your wrist
To be gazed upon from the bed posts.

Just attempt to forget that incident,
Why it’ll only spoil things
When they can be so perfect.

She doesn’t appear in the dreams,
Just after
Just enough form to wrap around me.

I don’t understand the figures,
I pray they are not people I have seen
I shall see that face for days and days.

The figures want to get me,
They are spawns of her
And I know so for they terrify me and wake me.

As she arrives I shall know whether this is realm
Whether or not she is the director of my madness
Or wether or not she is my madness.

I am attracted to her darkness,
The opposite of a moth
Except for leaving a stain along the road.

Turns out, she was
My madness. Oh well.
Back at the start, when it ended at
Midnight.

Opened the door, with a glass of
Rose champagne, rested against
The frame and stretched out
My hand.

Yearned for heavier rain, the dry
Era scorched my life, and it ended
On the first rainfall
Accompanied by my own downpour.

Atop a podium, ****, bearing
Everything
And an empty crowd, somehow
They know nothing of me.

My body shook
Before the alarm
Rose from the bed
Hung from the ceiling
And I looked at me
My terrifying ghastly expression
The sinister look in those eyes
The locked in shape of my body like a picture in a locket

Hung
Almost crucified
Torn away from the mortal coil
The mortal strain the mortal stain
The immortal train take me away
Into the arms of the angels I go
Said my body but eyes were cold
I'm a piranha
A dead thing
A husk or a shell
A vessel for hell.

I'm not going to say what I want because I do not know
Romance isn't the way to my heart
That's the thing that'll trap you in my grip and I'll never let go once it's there
So I won't say what I want because it's not good for you
Who you are anyway
Who are you everyday?

My heart is dead and gone
And strains to pull me for another
Too much blood pumping around these veins
It stings when I feel the signs of a flood.

It stripped us separately
Leaving only the muscle
The bone
Exposed

We become strangers again
Once in twenty years again
Since in child birth
We're nothing

But we love each other
But for why we do not know
Only mother and son,
Pain and regret

The sharpest death of her
Left the deepest scar in our flame
Only a matter of time
To burn out.

Small flashbacks include; high
Dunes on the Isles of Scilly,
False memories include telling
Friends to *******,
Dreams beyond dreamers that lasted
Only on that island.
Deceased ones brought back and
Smothered, that’s the theme these days .
Seas sickness was, now that I
Look back on it, was a metaphor for the way things were;
Just regurgitating wretched and
Foul memories or anticipating the beginning.
Protection from enemies.