I wish people could see the world as I see it right now.
Bleak British fog and thundering rain grazes
The bus windows, as we enter the seventh hour.

Ryan Adams is singing Sylvia Plath, as rapeseed fields
Threaten to bring colour to the north. The pills are
Working, and I’d cry for joy or for poverty if I could.

This isn’t the spring I was promised, but that’s okay.
I have learned that a promise is but a sincere lie,
And expectation can only offer far-off feelings and

No time. I’ve stopped throttling the goose to demand
My supper. I have stopped walking through the rain
And complaining about the weather.

It is time to start living.

Passing through York,
I am aware that there is war.
slaughter and counter-slaughter,
lives piling up on the side
whilst Africa starves;
and yet, all I can think about
is you.

Newspapers cheat attention
with passing headlines of half-truths
and murderers turned to heroes.
My bank account empties,
all friendships have perished;
and still, all that I suffer for
is you.

Bury me in cigarettes
and drown me in my drink.
Please, forget that I was ever here
to tread this land,
to lie on my back over
the ceramic bathroom tiles.

Oh darling,
I’ve lost my balance without you.

The moons never talked to you
The way you wanted them to
Because they saw the truth
They saw your lies
In a way I could never
The northern lights dimmed when they caught sight of you
And the milky way shied away
Because if stars are good at one thing
It's fear
You've painted my heart black
And at first you told me it was so
I could travel the night with you
Unnoticed
But I've recently realized how many things
Are wrong with that statement
You never cared about me
You cared about the wind
And how it disappeared when you got far enough away
You liked the seclusion
You feed off the feelings of lose
People feel when you travel
When the sky turns pink
Thats when you'll return to me
From you illustrious travels
My dear Foreigner
That is when I will trust you with my heart again
When the sky tells me it is right
Because the sky is the only person left who hasn't lied to me
And all I want is to rest in her stars
And all I want is for the lies to be done
And all I want is for the loneliness to subside
And it's not to much to ask for
Because I know just how to do it

You crawled up within my skin
took a taste of my anxiety and welcomed yourself in
wove my fears together and built yourself a home
upon the road of my aching bones
you travel endlessly
and all these indoor bruises that they can not see
I can never stop feeling
Unable to keep you away
I buried my secrets six feet deep
but every day you bring them flowers
everyday you sing to them
and now I am the stranger
wandering hopelessly around your new home
every day I knock,
but no one's ever home

We'll paint
the world
pastel red
and sing
songs as
the world
falls apart.
       And I'll remind
you that
you're absolutely
beautiful when
we take our
last breaths
       And although
I was never
able to
write every
moment
and paint
every horizon
we've rested
our time upon.
      I'd like to
think that
I made you
the happiest you
could ever be.

Chewing the same gum for a while now
Late nights, and parties, and fights
About time I spit it out,
Douse the fire, and flare the smoke out

This is an S O S to brain control
We're getting a lot of alcohol down here
It's time to exhale and breathe in fresh air
Kid, you mys as well dig yourself a hole

I speak words, but my words wear masks
They mean more to me, you'll never see what's underneath
Maybe they'll be clearer after we share this flask
And then I can wake up in the morning and breath

And I'll be ****** if I see you show up to my party
I was just trying to reach out
Now my veins run like a still river in doubt
My heart has beat itself out

Don't ever fall in love with a poet
because they will indeed admire and watch your every move
they will write about how the pen marks on the side of your palm when you write
don't ever because they will trace
every single freckle you have on your face and
write about the color of each and every one of them and
describe how they smile so brightly under the sunlight
they will want you to want to know every little thing about them
even if it's just what hand they write with and want you
to be wondering why they write with that specific hand when in
reality it doesn't even matter

the poet will watch the way you dig
your eyes onto that book and your small quick remarks onto the 26 letters all crumpled together and will know that everyday at 5:28 p.m. you smile

they will look deeply into your eyes
to see if they can at least take a little
peak of your soul and they will write
about you like if you were the only
thing they see good in this world

they will want to know what you think
about when you look at them and
see if you also count each and
every freckle and hope and write  
that you do but they will
love you endlessly and they will
show you that they love you and only you

but don't date a poet if you aren't
capable to watch them and
admire their imperfections
when they sleep late at night
beside you.

j.f