I can't seem to write
Words
words
words
My head is full but my pen is dry
My hand,
the conductor,
it's shaking with anticipation
trembling
For some words
Words.
What is this?
These are my thoughts and the inkwell
I'm so inspired
**I am the inspiration

I don't believe in God.

I believe in dark skinned girls
That scream Leviticus at the two
Teenagers on my second bus home.

I believe in my mother heaving
Her woes while my father
Tells me to change the channel and
Stop being so bad at life, as though
Theres a syllabus I never studied which
Teaches you that the expensive apples
Are the sweetest and the 60c ones
Will leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

I believe that you can be bad at math
But good at physics because you know
That a stone thrown from x will weigh c
And therefore get to y within k amount
Of time.
Y being you and c being me, naturally.

I believe that chewing on foil is bad
For your mouth but is a stress reliever
For all the times that your work has
Been ripped up and then thrown
Back at your face, as if symbolising
Your entire eduction.

I believe that there is a light at the
End of this tunnel but you've got to
Hold my hand while we feel the walls
For a switch.

Click.

When I say that I didn't get much sleep last night,
I mean that I spent seven hours in my bed
Thinking about the way that the morning light
might play off of your skin
And the way that you would shift and snuffle
into the mattress at my first nudge
And my light breath would be against the nape
of your neck,
Breathing in your contentedness
and how happy the sun is
To be warming your shoulders up as you wake.

So no, I didn't get much sleep last night.


  *"I think I'm falling asleep
   but then all that it means is
   I'll always be dreaming of
   you."

You're always asking me why I keep the receipts

From every place we visit even if it's only a

Quick pit-stop at the Safeway where you used to work,

And I won't tell you why because you'd laugh

At me and remind me how silly romance is

Because I know you found that movie ticket with

The blue eyes sketched between the price and the

Title. And I know that you tossed it out the window telling

Me that the cute ticket officer's eyes were brown, not

The same colour as the stormy oceans I see

Crashing below your eyelashes on the nights when you

Won't tell me what your father said to you and that I

Found out from your brother that your grandmother died

The same day that you met me and that's why

You won't talk about her even though you know I can sympathise.

You always ask me why I write down your angry

Words but I can't tell you that it's because it's those

Moments when I know you're the most bare, even when

We're naked.  And I also know the reasons why

After we finish, you always hide beneath the sheet

As though you're afraid I'll see the crescent-moon

Scar on your left hip that you will never tell me

What it's from.

I guess we all have reasons for our secrets but

Why would the world keep spinning in its unsung persistence

If we knew everything about it?

I, the bird, to this marine world
looked back up at the bastion of mine
from a new perspective.
The brass propellers,
the ‘streamlined’ shape of the beast,
seemed insignificant, to the beasts of God below.

I insignificant,
out of place,
in a way that awed a part of me
A vortex of swelling frigidity replaced the air of my world,
I spit out the tube
lurched back to my reality

My scape.
I saw the bright yellow
pale blue, above,
and a squadron of orange tipped tubes floating
about the rippling white capped sea.
The pearl again white, and pure.
The Voices fluttered about, and grins were sent our way.
I looked inside for my knot of fear,
it dissipated,
impossible to reassemble as dry sand.

water drained from my tube
outstanding figures below were gone.
All that was left was the shadow of the boat,
a couple dozen still to my rear approaching.

But the serenity and rush were gone.
The perception of the sea’s attitudes on my weak flesh,
the fear of the unknown,
vaporized like boiling ice.

The whole experience lost, and replaced.
Urgency lost, I floated about on the plane between two of God’s worlds.
Neither of which we truly understand.

digging themselves out of the earth
after years, waiting for re-birth
with eyes glazed, they cant see
dead, but alive with no humanity
a twisted, dark, and ***** breed
rising up, they only want to feed
"you cant **** what is already dead"
the only way, is to cut off the head

they're not evil and not insane
they only want to eat your brain

walking through the shadows,so slow
you can run, but theres nowhere to go
locked doors are all that you find
then you hear them coming from behind
you try to move, then you feel the bite
death will slowly come to you tonight
and as you die, such a gruesome death
screaming, as you take your last breath

they're not evil and not insane
they only want to eat your brain