Explanations;
In every day that I speak
and every day that I hear myself thinking
I just keep on
finding that words are impossible.
Yet they hold so much possibility inside
and that's something I see now even more.
What I take from this is at least I can try.

So now I'll try,
So if you just could listen,
(Not that it's ever been a task to make you listen to the things I say)
When I tell you this one thing:
Never do I leave it long
because I long to leave.
This is something you really have to know.
(I'm not entirely sure that this makes much sense at all)

But, little stranger, I think you know it now,
In some kind of way,
And mostly I think that because
somehow everything is strange now.
'Little stranger';
Less little than me, but somehow equally as strange.
Everything is strange now
but it all makes more sense that way.

The air must be cool then,
The air needs to be cool.
This air must taste so much like coldness
How water runs from some wet hair
This must be the air
There on a naked back see the river-wet hair finding its way
finds a path in the shadow line of a rained-on back
a neck is a cliff face
and too there's the walkway
shoulder to shoulder
Delicate walkway
And your eyes
watch for the cave

I won't forget air
I need to feel it on each side of my tongue.
cold cold cold.
air to taste
that feeling
When then and only then
will you have tasted enough of what you tasted
does anyone know?

Then in the deepest moment
Deep within the evening
Deep as though it were the sea
The evening ocean.
Surrounded surrounded by
surrounded in evening
And so filled is my hollow with evening evening evening
That I become a ships ruin
Brought to life in this new way

I might wait on this sandy woodland path
For darkness on my skin
and pressing more.
like skin can't be skin on these bones
To grow and to grow.

Follow this sand and earth my feet know
Even with stick and stone
Walk these familiar strides i know
Finding strange lights, these movements of the earth,
Pass an echo caught in the grass
But these feet walk this ground
This this ground
Take me to this place i know
Find the upwards *****

Here now i might just forget each word i just spoke
Forget the voice who is speaking letters
To a silent ear or from a silent mouth
If i could hear each leaf falling my body might collapse around me.


Find the upwards *****
And when I reach it
I might reach out my arms to hold the moon

I want my stone
It's in
It's a pocket
A cave 
I'd never like to find myself there
But for my hand
I want my stone
Where's my stone
To go into my stone

Tear scent denim on the bedroom floor,
cradle for a cheekbone.
A portable reading light
A book bent backwards
A coiled ribbon
There 
They are me
On this bedroom floor
Under one table
where someone was once beautiful
and then still also after

If the world would touch me softly please
I might pretend that i am barely there
And the world might pretend it too

Is it possible to focus a moment more into one sense?
Maybe could i live one moment as more a sound

Tree branches almost seem
Like they move slower
Than the wind and air
Sometimes
And now
Thats me
Sometimes

But i can't stay
You were hurting me with the bin
And the unwanted
It was not needed 
Maybe i understand
But no
Nothing nothing
No 

A piece of thread floating
But moving past the leaf canopy
And the town
Village landscape
But glimpsing glimpsing the pale blue
Across those few changing colours

Old place 
Where i left my thoughts
I can see you now
But i never quite left it all

One day 
The light won't
Touch your naked skin anymore
When houses are the haunting
And my ghosts were your life

Possibly the **** of the first time i tried
Who else burried a heartbeat maybe
Under stone or nettle
Or in your earth and life?

Still you take me to you
Not even a stony galaxy 
Though that word seems not-right
Thank you thank you
A place that won't leave dents in my knees

Like a polished statue head
Not beauty
In fact
I almost melt
But there's a person of 
A passing person
A barely there and rarely remembered person about it
Them

vision then
vision then
but i must be breathing or
something close like an echo
coz my hands are speaking,
like these words
and changing screens
they came from this very day

my body has used this now place
here
like a human
and.

I'd just like to be just a figure in their bed now
gentle and blending
in softness and calm
stillness
like to inhale

A face weighs down shoulders
Don't make me a person

but please
though.

i never liked an uninvited light
when it sliced through my night-space

But a whisper
I don't know
But i know sometimes there's this imprint on the pillow beside me
just then i picture the walking man i spoke of once before
but no
but absolutely not like it at all
coz this whisper
is like the space of a something.
The world knows

Thank you

Lost thing
i was once scared by the wind in a tree,
ashamed to say but
but
no i am not really
but
fear was breathing.
But let me recommend you.
Sit on the stairs
when you want some space to be alone,
People passing you there come and just go. 

Or when you feel like that feeling you dont know 
Sit on the stairs,
on some step 
Because
All they ever want is to be here or to be there, 

The inbetween
no no no no
Look theres the blue
forget the tree
or remember if it helps
So if you would just sit on the stairs,
If you want to be alone,
Sit on the stairs.

on the stairs 
On this day
There's a cheek
feel a cream carpet edge
And a face like burning
And a wooden smell
(one who never flew)
Closer to perfection than over half of most the some things.

Poke a bare leg through a white bannister.
Fishing for thoughts
Corners and angles.

And
Bear with me, but
If the sky is the sky
And the sea is the sea,
Why is the wind all together
And the wave all alone?

Rain and the grass and the dirt on my face. 
They like my vest and collarbones
And bare grass legs
But Or Sometimes
Peel the tights from the legs 
And see the camping
The caravan moment
Quick and passing.
Hidden away.

But i guess there can be GUSTS of wind can't there though?

Gusts
Disgust?
Who's sure about gusts?
Not sure i need gusts
It might be like love,
Remember
Not sure that i need that now.

Away away
We want to fly there
But who else have we told to go there?
We look there in guilt
But then so too do they
Away away away
Let us go away.

I need to write I need 
To write I
Need to write

Right right
Know
No, I dont need to

It like there's buzzing in my hands
Its like there's buzzing in my body
Like my head's rocking backwads and forewards


I see the open window 
And I want to hang out of it
With my weight on my hips
Just like.
Rocking rocking
And. Air

I always need it now
And the way the letters look when I type
Just fast enough
Like theres movement
Like i'm busy
When i'm only sitting down

Its like the colours have gone inverse around my eyes

Like negative colours swirling
Framing everything i see
Like its a tunnnel

But i'm not moving through it because the end is big and clear
And im already there

I can't have faith that's it
(But there is no certainty though in those words i just spoke)
How many times i've wished i might be
That squirrel up in a tree
Free free free free
But he'll never go far

I tried to make art yesterday
I found paper, tape, pens and magazine
A cocktail stick

It looked like *******
I crumpled the paper with oil pastelled hands
I stabbed a cocktail stick through the lines
Wound the tape, wound the tape.

I poured my tea over it
Poured the tea
And it bled red 
From the marks of a red pen 

But no now is today
Nonoooo  why did I go back?
Now is shaking.
Flies on the glass,
But they ruin the dream
But they made a new one
But they never knew. 

Sofa sofa and cardboard boxes
Like im in a coat again

Where am I going
I'm not there yet 
I want to fly
I was scared to admit it before
Or I wasnt sure
But i'd like to fly
Fly fly

Shaking legs
My eyes aren't right not right
My eyes are dragging too much
Its like the weight's on the bottom
Like a hammock but no swinging noo

Why are there sparkles on the floor?
Who thought of the teapot plant *** outside?
I can see it coz it's white
Everything else is black
But the giant teapot is white there
 in the night garden out of the window
Who thought of it?
Who designed it?
How was it made?
Where are they now?
I hope they stilll make things

Never stop making
I'd like to be someone who never stops making
And creating
But i'd like to be someone who starts making

Spiders think they own their house,
Coz they built their web
On these walls we built
And this house that we made

Hahaha
Haha
Hahhhhh

But we built our house on somebody's floor, 
(Or someone's wall
Whatever direction they walk in?)

And we built this town on somebody's floor

But I didnt build it
No

Labels
White sticky labels
Only found them again when I no  longer needed them

Lets all just live in the world okay
Or even no
Live where you like

2 rules:
Be kind.
Make people happy,
In the very least
Try.

But I dont make the rules
Nononono
Forget the rules
I can't make rules
I can't close it
No closing
Everything just be
Everything
Spill over
Spill over

Open.

Rain.
Rain isn't sad
but the word comes to my head
when I don't know what else to say.

In this dark room,
in this bed that offers me
no sleep or comfort,

In this jumper
I feel my body shaking.
In this warm jumper,
I feel the shivers moving
beneath it.
It's like they're restless,
Or like they're alive,
But they never try to escape.
They hold me like they need me,
I feel them moving under the fabric.

In this dark room
I find some comfort,
All the comfort I have,
I find
in the ends of my sleeves.

Cold fingers gripping,
Thank God, or anyone,
For the ends of my sleeves.
I found a place to put my tears.

Either there,
Or waiting in the mid-lengths of my hair.

There's still rain in my hair,
At least I have that,
In this bed,
In this dark room.

I can't see where the walls end,
But I like to imagine that they could reach on forever into the night,
That everything could be everything,
Or that everything could be nothing,
Something like that.

I like to imagine what it would feel like
to not have to think,
But it's too much to think about.

In this bed,
In this jumper,
My body doesn't understand.

I realise that now,
Oh wow,
Only now
I realise.
That my body has just been following me around.

Only now I realise,
That we all just follow the words
in our voices and in our heads,
That we all just
let our bodies
become the shadow of our minds.

All the places I have taken this body.

Oh wow,
oh wow.

(Shhhh.)

I wonder if silence could ever even contemplate
that his lack of words
might cause my eyes
to behave like this.
Or this stupid
way the air flows through my lips now,
Like it's broken, or made of something
that is not like air at all.

Or her, or him, or anyone or anything.

But no, he seems so kind.

This dark room.

So many times I have tried to step out of this.
I've tried to make space enough,
to look back
from afar.

Like I do with the others,
I've done it for them,
So many times.
It's what I am.

But here it's impossible,
Just because it's me,
It's like I can't leave,
Like I've got my back to my own self.

If I could move away,
I know what I'd see,
I could tell you,
But it's not the same as seeing it.

Torture
torture
torture
torture

Silent, secret, hidden
torture.
'Harmless',
Recurring, lurking,
From nothing
torture.

Torture.

Undeniable,
That it's cruel torture.

The wounds healed
by nothing more than a smile.

That's the worst,
Absolutely that's the worst.
A smile, a word,
Then
healed.

Not a mark left.

Forgotten.
Clean.

Safe,
Peaceful,
Innocent and
ignorant.

Forgive myself,
Forget myself.

Completely unprepared each time it returns.
Nothing is safe.
Nothing is clean.

In this dark room,
Now here I am,

Tears that don't reach past my nose.
The worst kind.

When will it be that I forget this moment again?

Waiting for the blindness.
Denial.
Security.

In this jumper I'm alone,
In this bed,
In this dark room.

In this body I'm alone.

It hurts to see that moment,
In my head
and on the back of my eyelids,
On the blackness in this room.

I see the green,
I see the tent.

Different darkness,
Different black,
Where shapes lived,
Or something,
Or feeling,
Or movement,
Or stillness,
Something lived there,
Not like now,
Different.

I was least alone in my body
then.
Right then,
I see it now,
It was then.

In this dark bed,
I touch my hands,
Not cool but warm
I can hardly bear to touch them,

More that anything in this room,
I hate the warmth
in these hands.

Bizzare.
A strange feeling of fear.

If were to open that curtain,
I might find nothing more outside my window
than wall,
Endless wall.
Not even red, but a dull cream,
In the windows,
In the doors.

I need it now,
I need to hear rain,
Really I need it.

Wind.
I need to hear wind.

A sick feeling,
Outside this dark room,
This house,
So quiet and still,
I get this sick feeling in my stomach.

I need to know somehow,
That the world is alive,
Outside of this bed,
This dark little room.

I need to hear the world again.

Pleading.

One short moment,
Out of this window,
I breathe in the world,
Not a wall but a world.

I find it cooler here,
In the street,
There are silent houses,
Stillness,
The street lights are too warm,
I can't breathe deeply enough,
I can't taste the air,
This feeling of thirst,
But I can't taste the air.
None of it's cold enough,
None of it moves enough.

I want the world to take me
but I barely feel the touch of it.

The black is almost better.

In this dark room,
In this bed,
In this jumper.
I long for the rain,
For wind and air
and cars in the night.

In this dark room,
I see far less than I'd like to.
I just want to know
that the world outside is breathing.

((Reading the notes might help you to understand this poem slightly more... though I can't guarantee it.))*

You know the best place to build a base would be the middle of the ocean.

just a thought

It was last September I told her, I told her to leave.

Help I'm drowning.

that's how it felt

Get her out the road I said, you know there could be anything coming round that corner.

still, I hope you know that sometimes this world has sent me crazy and

I hope you know I have now walked in completely the wrong direction to get home.

but let me give you some advice before I leave completely, it will never make much sense to you, but it will never really need to

When the river becomes starved of water,
don't go throwing bucketfuls of water at it's parched tongue now,
What you've got to do is you've got to plant yourself a flower or two in there, or otherwise build yourself a castle in the dirt,
Something like that.



Well, sh-t.

I have to leave now.

even now I can tell you know I never will
and really

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I always knew I was asking too much of you, when I asked if you might still be my friend.

No, don't go that way.

but you can't stop me
and
anyway, anyway, maybe if I let it go now

It will all be fine.
They will probably just turn up in a box of instruments somewhere.

good feelings often do, but then, I suppose, so do bad ones




What's the name of this tree?
I am having a shower in this tree look, a shower made of leaves, like, the water droplets are these leaves.
I always think these trees look like shower trees, the way the leaves hang down.

hey, hey, remember in those woods, before I showered

All I wanted was to find some grass, and you took me to the one place completely full of nettles.

I'll never forget it



I know,
I know I keep telling them and I know I keep telling you, and him and her and me and everyone, but

He hates my guts now, he really does, and all I ever did was keep trying to do the kindest thing, I keep trying to be kind.



but if I just forget all that
the truth is, when we go walking

We're not even drunk, not in the slightest.

and I'd like to tell you what I am

But I can't make decisions, Annie make a decision for me.

but how then

How are you so calm?
I just don't think about the future.

that's the only explanation I can give



thinking about it, I guess

I'm usually inside this like, wall of, kind of, mirrors.
But they're all different shapes so they don't line up perfectly, like, there are gaps.

and when I'm in a pavement mood

I'd rather have her shouting at me than tell her that the thing was, that I was sad then, and that was the reason why.

I think I'm like one of those buzzy globe things,
What are they called the brain things,
A plasma ball that's it.
But not as spherical, 'coz then it's all the same and nothing ever gets out.

there has to be some kind of gap, some kind of break somewhere



so I've had an idea

So can we all buy a boat?

or perhaps I could just be one

Look, by standing in this puddle I'm basically in the river, see?



I know I get distracted a lot,
sometimes I hear them tell me to try,
the thing with trying is that

The closest I would ever get to perfect was always in an accident,
So I think that true perfect must be broken up into at least a million, billion different accidents,
And maybe someday someone will piece them all together,
But then I think that their life might just be so full of accidents that it wouldn't even be theirs anymore,
And they would probably become so mad that nobody would ever believe them.



So anyway,  when are you going to tell me some more of your dreams?

I'm sorry, I never meant to go deeper than just to paddle in yet.

He said he's bricking it.

but I've been remembering my dreams in the morning when I wake up recently, and I've been finding the words and I think I can keep moving

There's a woods behind my house now, but I don't want to adventure there on my own really.

I think I'd like to know where all those little paths lead to someday though
so

Shall we open that gate?

or maybe we could just climb it
I don't know



I guess really I'm a wanderer, but also a wonderer,
perhaps one more than the other,
I can never be sure.

Certainty is someone who I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting.

I only ever hear bad things about him.

but hey, don't let yourself be too quick to judge I said

We've only heard of about ten crimes in the area in the past year, most of them thefts.




sometimes

I swear she doesn't even know who I am.
No, but honestly,  I think it was just that microphone that got in the way.

Why don't you all just leave? It's not like any of you even care.

but we both know that's a lie
and anyway

It always calms me when there's sunlight on my face.

then all I need is a nice deep breath and it's gone
and I know that

Yes, there is still a bottle of ***** on my chest of draws.

but really, it's okay because it's empty you see



now here's something that will make you smile

That cloud looks like an elephant with its legs on backwards.

I hope you see

And ever since you saw it, you wanted your hand to be touched in that way.

well, maybe that's just me
perhaps I shouldn't have said that
what have I become
I could not tell you the first day I began to live the life I'm living now but one thing I have realised is that

I have probably found more meaning in a field of grass to be honest, than I ever have in most other things in the world.

sorry, sorry
we're still paddling though I think, so it should be okay



Sometimes the world is just too much and I forget what to do.

have you felt how it affects us

I tied a scarf around my eyes this morning, because the light was too bright through my curtain.

and

You're losing your voice from talking so much.

but the whole world won't make me forget how much

I love the way it feels when I breathe the air in the morning or the evening,
when it's like the day's changing from one thing to another.

and the whole world won't ever make me forget this thought I keep on hearing in my head,
that*

We need to just find somewhere,
somewhere to have a moment.