Whisper your breath against my neck
Like the wind speaks through the tree leaves.
Feel my pulse beneath your lips,
Over my wrists,
Next to my jawline,
Hovering about my still heart.
Spill blood rushing in my veins,
Into my lungs and send
A tornado of butterflies
Spinning deep within my stomach.
I want to fly into your garden
And flutter in such a harmony
That piano keys long to be touched
With a tenderness that only fingertips can hold.

Let's Begin*,
Join the circle,
Show a grin,
Laugh hysterical,
Then you're in.

Take a knife,
And here we go,
**** their wife,
And let everyone know,
Don't leave a life.

Play in blood,
A whole **** tub,
Bodies buried in mud,
Or throw em in an abandoned hearse hub,
Then smoke some bud.


.........................................
♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦­♦♦♦♦
.........................................

YOU think it horrible that lust and rage
Should dance attention upon my old age;
They were not such a plague when I was young;
What else have I to spur me into song?

Everyone’s sleepwalking through city square
It’s twelve fifty seven
And seventy families have bled black against Israel’s rockets

Come Sunday morning
The drunks in my hometown
Will be too hungover to recognise their own faces
While Palestinians across the world
Will have to sort through the bones of dead relatives

This country was built on colonial empathy
Freedom from suffering through self-absorbed apathy

We’re all sewn to our seats
Caring for nothing

Give me wings
Burn them onto my skin
Ink them upon my arms
Let them shelter me from harm

Give me wings so that I may try
Give me wings so that I may cry

Give me wings
Let me fly.

She writes like the grim reaper
About pain, loss and tortured souls
Yet she has the sweetest smile
That could make a broken man whole

She writes about the lonely girl
Who cries for her broken heart
She says she's never been in love
For her, lying seems like an art

She has a quirky sense of humour
Her laugh is a sweet melody
She write about being lost and alone
Shes always surrounded by family

She writes about the child that cries
While his parents fight downstairs
She's lives such a happy life
With no sign of pain and despair

Sometimes when she speaks to me,
She seems so young and naive
Her poems carry such soul and depth
That they came from her is hard to believe

How can she understand my darkness
If she's never felt pain or desolation?
Why do her words ring true to me
When I know it's just her imagination?  

Her sad rhymes always make me cry
I just can't figure her out
Is there some sorrow that she hides deep?
Or does she just twist her words around?

Why is love so hard?
Its bites you with its piercing sting
It tames you with its frightening claws
Far beyond your power, once caged within

It hurts, when they hurt
you cry, when they cry
bleed when they bleed
and crumble when you try
to help them

because it makes you weak to empathise

Yet
with the force of a gale,
it stands
      firm against the wind

You have no choice,
no choice
     but to give in

It hurts the place in your heart,
             where theirs
    is cradled, safe

So you try to be soft
when they rage
Try to be sweet
when they're bitter

because you know they'd do the same for you
and to maintain balance,
for yourself

But
  this is the sacrifice we make,
                      the risk we take

and that's why love is beautiful.

If we cannot
experience life.
Until
we experience death.
How can we ever live.

That is what everyone
is afraid of.

Dying before ever having lived.

If you give
everything you have
Love with
everything you've got

what can you say to fate
how to respond to life.

Fleeting

Quickly
quickly
It escapes you.

It is the end of the very
Beginning.

Daylight:
A busy market.
I was lost
and I waited for everyone
to notice.

Twilight:
Eleven people,
I was lost
and I waited for anyone
to notice.


Midnight:
Just emptiness,
I am lost
(still)
and no one
notices.