I woke up blurry eyed to the syncopated screaming of my Casio clock.
But I didn't mind,
because in 2 hours time
I'd see those pretty green eyes
and you'd finally know how much I've changed.
And to the beeping of my Casio clock
I remember the 4 page apology about being a Casio ****,
But I didn't mind,
Because in 1 hour and 59
minutes time
I'd no longer be searching to find a way to say what's on this paper I've signed and we can be friends.
I look in the mirror and I look like ****, to be honest my looks haven't changed a bit but I've bought these ******* expensive jeans,
the same ones that haven't been cleaned since I kneeled down in your ***** and cleaned
the bits
from your lips and stroked your hair whilst I waited for an ambulance to come.
But you wouldn't remember that.
And so today would be the first day of light you've seen reflect from my skin since you gently peeled me off like a used band aid.
But I didn't mind,
because in 1 hours and 29
Minutes time
You'd remember why you ever held my hand
And
Even if it takes ten years id work to become something worthy.
So with my unclean jeans on I spray some of that same genre of deodorant,
Clean my teeth freak out about forgetting a haircut and say **** it at least I found ten dollars for the train fare.
And with my **** hair I didn't care,
Because in 40 minutes id be there,
And breathe the same air
The burning stars we once shared,
And so I check the time,
And so lose my mind
As the train arrives in about 5,
Seconds.
And I watch it race away from me as I sprint through the rain in my special suede shoes.
And as I walk in cold boots
I realise, that I don't mind
Because in 29 minutes time
I'll be lost in the warmth of your eyes
So I jump on the next train
And the officer decided to pick my brain
And I have to get of the train,
In the rain,
To buy a ticked again,
Because I don't look 16.
But I don't mind because in 19
Minutes time,
I'll be with that one perfect kind.
So I squeeze the letter in my pocket as I finally jump off at Perth station.
Pulsing with anticipation,
I run without a pinch of patience
Through the rain under a storm,
And I'm finally here.
I look around.
I sit down.
And you're nowhere to be found.

I've shot a hundred rabbits
Made of a gun of dodgy habits
Saw the sky and couldn't grab it
Made a net and tried to catch it
But like a soaring eagle,
Beauty only wants to be free
So I'll just head on home,
Lay down in my bedroom and sleep

Bed bugs and butterflies
Been stuck inside my eyes
Can't seem to see just why
I haven't learnt to fly
Guess I've just learnt to sleep with
Little creatures blocking my view
Rain droplets drizzle down,
Whilst I still dream of you

I dream of rainy mornings,
Cool clouds and daylight dawning,
Sweet sounds of robins calling
Tip-taps of raindrops falling
I know it's somewhere out there
Like its been waiting for me
I see it in my window,
I see it in the trees

I wake up,
as the sun is still in the sky,
and I'm not sure what time it is.

I stare at the clock,
but the numbers are not there,
and the radio spots gibberish.

I try to move my toes,
but my hands move instead,
and I can't get the hang of it.

So I roll onto my side,
stare out the window,
and think I'll try sing a bit.

But the words don't make a sound,
and I can't think where I am,
I'm not sure about anything.

I try to remember your name,
but I only remember pain,
and so I try to get rid of it.

So stare out at the sun,
sitting sweetly in the sky,
not thinking 'bout the other bits.

I close my eyes,
with the sun between my ears,
and I guess that I'm full of it.

I drift into sunshine sleep,
let my thoughts grow wild and free,
if only for a little bit.

I keep your memory
In the ashes of a cold fireplace,
Next to which, I sit;
On the cool cabin floor;
Dreaming of spring shine.

Whilst the world outside,
Softly whispers melodies,
of snow sung winds;
Dancing through pine trees,
Like fireflies in the dark.

Yet I have still, a heart of flint,
That sparks in the moonlight,
Upon souls of silken steel;
Thawing these pine wood bones,
Damp with the windy winter.

But ****** be these winds,
Which claw colder than ice,
Upon Crimson cabin walls,
That shiver in the snow;
Tangled up in blue-stained starlight.

So here, I sit dreaming,
Of spring shine from the east,
Of a roaring fire inside my skin;
As the memory of this fireplace,
Melts into a child's laughter.

Listen to the wind,
Softly kissing your window.
Watch the warm glow,
Of an oak-mounted lamp.
There's poems on the walls,
Fan hangs from the ceiling,
Your hands smell like flowers,
Scratching sound of writing.
The howling of windy treetops,
Still hums from outside;
But it's warm in here,
And you will be ok.

Whilst -
    The 3am rain
        Whispers poems
              Through the lips
                   Of a rusty awning,
                        My mind lays awake,
                  
                             Scratching,
                
                 Scrawling,

     Screaming,

Out!
****** memory!

   That clings to dreams,
                      Like the frost,
                             upon my windowsill.
                              
Whilst -
     the 3am rain,
             continues to cry;
                       It's so cold outside,
                                        It's so cold.

.
                                                               ­                               the
              If I                                                                       valleys of  
            were                                             between      our snowy souls.
         a builder,         but           bridges               we could meet in those
        I, no longer            build                       clouds,   as    high   as     those
    would hike these                               dreams, that we dare not discuss,
  ice eyed mountains                        upon    the    footsteps    of  ­   Giants.

There are purple trees inside this head,
The roots grow down to my toes.
And the purples leaves (as my mother said)
are colours that no other knows.

For I was born in a heartless world of red,
As blue rained from the sky.
But my soul's a seed (as my mother said),
From which purple began to rise.

I am now a Forrest of red and blue,
and colours you cannot see.
And I may not be you, or you,
But I am most definitely me.

So tell me a lie / a label / a truth,
That is primary to believe.
But I am not a red and blue youth,
For I am full of purple trees.

Leave me by the forrest creek where the flowers grow, well I don't know where it leads but dear I' gotta go. But honey babe am I walking too fast? Not even my God will tell me if these flowers last.

I've been everywhere but here, I've been all around. Been where daisies disappear, my dear I've nearly drowned. So honey babe am I walking too fast? Not even my God will tell me if these flowers last.

I've seen the sun give birth to the sound of Spring, seen roses live and die, babe I've seen everything. But honey babe am I walking too fast? Not even my God will tell me if these flowers last.

I'm praying for the water to take me to an open spring, where darkness disappears and dear I'll hear you sing. But honey babe am I walking too fast? When not even my God will tell me if these flowers last.

we ran blindly
like lost children
into the warmth of each other's arms,

we grew lost
in the moonlight tangles
of hair and shivering fingertips,

but were we deaf ?
to the rain that began to scream ?
louder than those burning breaths ?

for alone now, we shiver.
no longer in love with goosebumps.
but cowering from this storm -

the whIRLWind of our souls.

goosebumped skin
     and a light blue zephyr
           dancing
     to an autumn song

frozen flowers
     upon frosted windows
             blushing
      from the cool kiss of winter

yawning green
     blooming from branches
              breathing
        the first breath of spring

warm cheeks
     upon faces of endless colour
               dimples
        under the summer sun