survival is cheap

This is how i feel
this onion peel
discarded
shell of wasted empathy//
this is how i taste
this furry filthy *****
waste
of
flavours savoured.
This is how it feels
inside
to die
then lie
in hope of faith
restored.

Sitting
while it rains
outside
my thoughts.
The seasons storm
while thiniking//pausing//stroking
i climb back into the safety
of my mind.
it is mine.
To hibernate
a pleasure
brief but
still so much
grief to grieve.
A cliche,
this damp patch
of regrown
faith.
This testament to
survival.
perhaps not the fittest,
but always
a stayer.

And so I dug into you
So deep
That in One thousand years
You could not cover the same in miles.

And I kissed you with kisses laced with smiles.

It is through being;
My touch;
That my love can flow free
And you will see
That some things
Cannot be said
But forever committed
To flesh
Instead.

Lover boy
Dear man
I swim beside you
Inside you
And wholly within

It is a sin
To hold tongue
And bated breath
When your
Body
So responds
To mine.

Tightrope
Walk between
The string,
And what is forgotten,
That pieces
Together
Time.

I am split
And you are knot.

You are a jigsaw boy
A piece amongst pieces
Like chess,
A token on a board
Are you the pawn boy?
Or just the Queen
Dressed up like a King?
Makin’ moves
And grooved
You are worn
By time boy
Manhandled and played
Displayed
Like a ***
Of monopoly dollars
Dyed parchment
You are spent
However
You are classic
And everlasting
Boy.

So i drew a pile of words onto the page
and in a rage i covered them in black lines and criss crosses until a
small sad scribbly sailing ship appeared upon the scarred bark white sheets;
mooring, sinking, drinking in the brine
and choking on weeds that drift
aimlessly atop a deep engulfing sea.
Dying boat submerging to be free
Lonesome boat singing a fading melody,
Water cleans.
Moonlight streams.
Seafolk dream
and the ocean breathes in a calm that swells
into a seething, heaving storm within a sea of scribbled words
lines blurred
bone dry
sun starched
my mouth is parched
and words form salted pearls upon my lip.

I should be writing,
but from where I’m sitting I can see the breeze through flicks of a pirate flag, shadow cast and bearing homeward bound in my window.
I can reach out and touch my tobacco,
feeling,
rolling,
pausing,
licking,
lighting,
smoking.
I am inhaling /exhaling
and only typing in between bursts of stillness, my mind lost and trailing through the room, **** n’ type, mumbling crazy talk under my breath as I scribe.
Slowly
I should be in my head, finding a nest,
a bed, of words and meaning
conscience streaming.
No focus when I can see the tree’s, peeks of bark and pied green
No inspiration beyond that which I can see with my eyes.
Ash, I am burned out like the smoke in my hand.

I sit within myself loosely
Like crumpled sheets
Waiting to be made
A song laid out
Semi quaver (dis)chord
Waiting to be played
A whisper
Caught between
Tongue and lip
I am whiskey
Sipped
Then spilled
Time killed
I am paused
Mid flight
A Pheonix
Rising
Covered in ash

Self censored
I bite my own tongue
Till it bleeds
And small seeds
Of doubt and worry
Scurry
From my throat
Down down down
To my stomach.
Can’t breathe for the
Stifling
Can’t speak for the thoughts
Rifling through my heart
Tearing apart the layersI have sewn.
Ripping at seams
And spilling through the gaps
Fears planted
Enchanted
All I can do is gag.

blooms to dust

Im losing sight of
You
in this black and white
Gausian blur
of  timeless pain.
Im losing sight of me
in this blighted plane
of quasi symptomatic
existence.
Do you hear the words in my head
as the scramble to
untangle
the mess
you've left behind?
The pills still thrill
but acid tongue
does wash down
pain
again again again.
Rotary madness:
this rhetorical drift
of  love
fighting
life
fighting
worth
loving
nothing,
save for
pain.
Yes, again,
i ask of you only
to bury my heart beside yours
as the blooms turn to dust
and
the composition of our love decays.

Funny place
That one by the beach
Where the water is pink
And every evening,
Windswept,
The sun kisses at
Crests
Of summit surf.

Waves that have
Tasted blood spilt
For fun and patriotic pain.
White face
And sand
And green and gold
And blue, red, and white
Bruised fight
Each dollar spent,
Sins repent
We were born here
******* y’all
And don’t come back now
Y’hear
Ya ****** queer.
No one welcome
Eyes avert
Man
And woman
And seagulls
Picking and screaming
At the debris
Of society.
You’re free
To ******* now
Y’hear.

No more
In love
No more fallen
Rather falling
We are brushed finger tips
Waving goodbye
Choked,
Air stuck
Tight lipped
I feel sick
And tired
Raw flesh
And cut deep
Straight through
To already
Brittle and broken
Bone.
Alone
And tripping
Over the
Falling sky.
Red eyes
Disguise
Roll the dice
Snake eyes
And the next roll
Is in your hands.

I am cage fights with boys and girls alike
I am splintered hardwood floors
kneeling/crawling/hard working
indoor/outdoor
day/night.
I am balled fists
Open palms
I am Chains and
a footstool timbered from my back.
A rent boy with vices
I am violence/dicord/visceral
Bloodied and mean.
A machine built of sinew
made for binding/unbinding
lashing and flogging
I am a service receptacle
a boy built of honour
of instinctual intellect
of bruises and bandages
i am cut and torn
roped and worn.

You said to me
Stand strong and firm
And by mast you would
Set sail.
Stay and sate
Our love would prevail
The rampant hunger
That swells
The tide
and draws
The moon
Baited and starved
Into the night

Yet here I am
Alone at sea
With only the breeze
For company.
A seagulls song
And the sound of calamity
Lapping and slapping
At my ego.



Like bounty
Lost And found
In darkness and depth
And heaving chests
With rusty locks
And ghosts
Stirred and stricken

I cry silent and taken by the deep
I am green with envy that you might want me.

I am left to the birds
Stark at my post
And sailing single
In this boat built for two
I need you
To want me
Navigate and steer
And plot the course
Of my flesh
Saline sweat and brackish
Brine.



I am not a ****
Cast upon shore
A ***** to the
Land-walker
No more.

I am ballast
And tempest
Uproar.

Downwind
I wait for your
Scent/
The descent
Of your body in mine.

I have time
And rhyme
And sailors song
To while the time
In which I long
And sailing alone
You will find me
Your boy lost at sea

cammo

I'm swimming in blue cammo
Eyes closed
a vision within.

(Just holding each breath)

A million bubbles
trapped beneath
a sealed and silent
surface. My lips. Languid desire.
                                                  (I can feel them/behind my eyes)
Blue and black
Shades of grey                            (sweet disguise)
myriad moments
uncoloured by time                      (in blue, everything is you, disguised)

Only trapped like lime
in stone.

I cant breathe when i'm swimming in you.

Rising

Like a warm loaf

On a slowly turning winters eve.

Sitting. Still. Window sill. Warm sun.

It has begun.

Taking leave

From my

Seated place

Alongside this scenic, arduous

Road.

Kicking out

My legs.

Muscle stretch and yawn.

I am changeling,

Unsteady and unsure

On eager feet.

I am heartbeat. Beating.

I am jarred door.

Unhinged and

Swinging in the spring breeze.

Reading this book

As I write each page.

Dog eared and laughing.

Crushed spine and crying.

I am chapters unfolding

Burnt and bleeding pages.

Edges tested by time.

I am unrest

Settling into itself.

Dust on a shelf

Fanned off by the

Zephyr

Stirring within.

The west wind

Blowing in,

Releasing me.



So this is what it feels like to be free.



So this is life calling me.



And so I rise.

The Pheonix

In the freshness of youth.

Through the cycle of years.



I am reborn and

Being.

Green pastures.
Verdant, like peas and pine.
This timid display of jealousy
of me, myself and mine.

Then crimson red
shades of fury
too wild like tulip kisses
too fluent to bury.

And blue songs
lyrical sadness
waxing my tongue
with thier tepid tune.

These colours before time
rolled into rhyme
representing each crime
committed, eyes closed.

Tonight you're black and white.

Where to begin
I think to myself as I submerge
my thoughts
In you and what it is that
Gives the tick to your tock.
I think of your eyes
And the depth
That lies
Folded within
Green and brown
Layered
Life
Disguised
And smiling.
Lost glasses
And lager
That comes in pints
Accompanied by
Epic
And
Blatant
Action and statement
Your energy blasts
Fast and furious
Frenzy
I sense more to you
Than what meets my eye.
And in that thought
I lie
Here now
Creased brow
In anticipation of knowing you more.
I think of your nails
And the way they touch
Me deeper than
The welts
That are kissed
Crimson stain
Onto my skin.
Your essence
Seeps inside
Within
And bleeds out of my body
Through my lips
As I savour
The flavour
That makes
You taste
So simply
Divine.
You have this way
Of ceasing time
And pausing
The beat of my heart.
Just a smile
Is all it takes
And your laugh,
The way your eyes
Drop low,
The dip of your neck and
The way you glance up
And out from
Under your
Fringe.
You unhinge
The door
That stands
Shut and heavy
Before
My eyes
Wide open
Surprise
As you storm
Into my soul
And take whole
My delight
And spin its
Weave
Into gold.
I am sold
On you
And your cold hands
Warm heart.

Comfotably numb-without the Floyd

Comfortably numb
not dumb:

Just mute.

Riding silence
instead of life.

A presence atrophied.
An altered mind.

The kind
of
High
that drops you low.
The kind of stale
that leaves you pale

And weak at the knees

Id cry,
only tears take time
and the
seasons
will change
without waiting
for
my voice
to saturate
my face.

Translucent
liquid nuggets.
...
noiseless
as they slide
off the record
and onto my plate.

I'd offer you a bite
but
we all know
what happened to the hand that
fed
the hunger.

You look at me
as if
i were a ghost,
a spectre:
The nightmare
that anticipates your every
move.

Look in the mirror
for
an emulation
of the degenerate
debris
that is,
was,
has become,

U/us.

Comfortably numb.
in this
miasma:
This miriad of  mechanical madness.

The brink of madness
Follows at my feet
Like a shadow taunting
Like a whisper haunting.
A slip of darkness nipping
At my heel.
Urging me to feel
Too much.
Pressing me
Too touch
The beyond
Face first
Cross eyed
One eye on the future
One eye in the past.
Fall in
Fall out
To jump
Blind luck
Into an empty view
In lieu of you

You are me
But you cant see
For the madness
Barking mad
At your heel.

The brink of madness
Follows at my feet
Like a shadow taunting
Like a whisper haunting.
A slip of darkness nipping
At my heel.
Urging me to feel
Too much.
Pressing me
Too touch
The beyond
Face first
Cross eyed
One eye on the future
One eye in the past.
Fall in
Fall out
To jump
Blind luck
Into an empty view
In lieu of you

You are me
But you cant see
For the madness
Barking mad
At your heel.

Death is death
It is unmistakable
Today I looked into your eyes
And saw more love and calm
Than ever before
I saw in you
An inner peace,
A sanctum shroud
In honour
I heard from you a voice,
Strong and bold,
That had eluded me
Until today.
I felt you
Through my lips
As I placed
A silent kiss
A ripple through my soul
As your love
Flooded
Like my tears
And I said goodbye
Despite not really
Wanting to.
There is love
And there is love.
Thankyou and goodbye.

I feel a familiar wave
Of apathy
Washing, creeping, aching
over me
That self propelled
Ignorant kind of numb admission
That reaches into the bleeding
redness
Of your heart
And wraps black
Stained greyscale
Morbid pale
fingers around the
Aorta
Choking
Silencing
Encoding
A defence
Repeated
Completed time and again
Pre worn
And cut up
And burnt
like a leather
Shield, a muddied bloodied field
War ready



This is a Mexican stand off
Where the pistols
Pull their own pins
This is a temple
Unforgiving of sins.

I can hear a call
For help echoing
Through the death grip
Of regularity
But the voice is familiar
And if I remember correctly
It fades after time.
The voice is mine
one of many
The cry is loud
But habits old are hard to break
And, after all, a rolling stone
Will gather no moss
moss ,enough I have already.
And with the ignorance comes
A steady.
And with the steady
There comes a surface calm.
And with that calm I can sit
At one in a room with myself
And not find cause to cry.
(despite the never ending, it will always be ok)

Sitting here, thinking about death, about which death to choose, about which passing of time to write about. I am sweating, like, hold your breath or die sweat. It is hot here, but it isn't the temperature that is making my glands leak, it is the memories, it is the death grip that takes my heart when i remember, when i write about life leaving, silence stealing from the night.

Heroine. She's a tuff-tender ***** with soft sleepy skin, the daughter of Morpheus, who takes your breath and holds it inside you. Somniferous, She likes to sit alongside you while you die, she holds your hand and whispers in your ear, allaying fear and slowly she wraps her fingers around your lungs. So tired, of this world, of this life; you think, i'll just close my eyes, nothing new about being on the nod, nothing strange about this tiredness that follows a quick projectile puke in the gutter.
Let sleeping dogs lie.

Writing about Overdosing. It is a strange thing, a quick story, one minute your blinking, nodding, often murmuring, then asleep.

Lucky the dog who runs in a pack.
Lucky the man who walks with strangers by his side.
I don't remember much of what happened before i closed my eyes.

A shot, pin ***** relief, then, quickly/slowly/gone. It is night out, with a dark and steady sky, I am watching the stars through slitted eyes and loving my life, loving my wife; ******, how she makes my heart sing. I am glad to be far from withdrawing, i am happy to be in sin with my lovers, stainless steel turemo picks.
It is my first blast for the night and apparently my last.
There is no warning, no red flag that appears in my minds eye. Just silence and a world fading away. A heartbeat disappearing. Short shallow breath and a small niggling concern that soon will come the time when i am not high then...

I am going. I am gone. I have died.

The strangest thing about dying is not dying. The hardest thing about it all is waking up and realising you were finally gone, you were finally done with the rigmorale, the procedure, of living, of life. You had reached the ultimate goodbye. And now you are back. Still high but not high enough to be faced with the living. Narcan gives your lungs back, it breathes back into you what She stole away. Wanting more then ever to ***** but not wanting to puke on the paramedics lap. Fear of police and reprisal, anxiety soars high on the agenda of the recently revived. A trip the hospital, a free ride, then signing out early, i have shots to blast, a past to wipe out, a life to live or die trying.

***** clean
Those pieces unseen
Unsaid
Pretty head
On a misfit body born
Into a (purely)
Miscreant soul
Torn seams
And jagged edges
That spill
Fluid
Love drunk
All steam
And moist expression
From the lens
Onto slippery
Retro
Queerly hetero
Tiles
All the while
A message sent
Through the eye of a
Ready and wanting beholder
Bent and already
So eagerly
Tainted
Face painted
A boy with a joker smile
Drawn and smear
Dipped from
Lip to ear
From frown to crown
He has feelings
To feast on
Thoughts
Fit for a king.
Those passions
That sit within
Before them
Inside him
Unhinged
He is wet through and waiting.
Dried out and wanting.
Flaunting
Daunting.
As timid as he is bold
Underneath
The cold shower
Of expression refrained
Still bidding.



I can hear the wind

The darkness consumes

A room
Darkened
but for the
resonating brightness
of
Pain.

Yes Sir, i can hear the wind, but your silence is blinding.

Stale stone
cold
eyes.

Dont  leave me alone, the light is gone
my hands are empty and my vision sold.
I need.

A cellular
place
to exist
in Silence
and code.

A shadow to my grief. A widow to my pride.

This is my Land.
These are my walls.
Faith
tests more than
just limits.

Dont leave,
I can hear the wind
I need.

Silence.

drank the bullet

I drank the bullet
{mercury silk}
from your mouth
{so dry}
as you came
{then left}
fast and bidding
again
without moments pause
to reflect on
who was
shooting who?

Tracing patterns
Breaking habits
Pulling white
Rabbits
Out of tall hats
Lined by tall lies.
Lacey disguise
Covered eyes
Still peeking
Seeking
To see without feeling.
To run before walk
To lip closed talk
fill the room with secrets
Exposed.

Fake it till you make it

comic sigh

I'm laughing
so that each
forced smile
doesnt echo alone,
thunderous, beguiled,
each smile
a testament to
fake it till i make it.

I can lose you in this laughter.

I am lost and falling
Crawling, a shadow
Sliding oil slick against the wall
defined
By another man’s
rising/waking/dying
sun.
Not knowing how I feel
About growing old alone.
Alone is where I started
And alone is where it ends.
Not sure if I like
The way
My heart keeps beating
To a different drum.
Always the unsure
Forever unknowing
On my knee’s
And going going going
Down then gone
A day will come
A time will turn
And fallen I won’t rise again.

You stir a dormant bed of leaves inside me
And in your youthful breeze
They dance
a lovestruck storm
In my heart.
I skip through
The street
All smiles
And singing.
I'm swinging
On clouds
And falling carefree
Into the warm chasm
Of your soul.
All fear departs
Free falling
I wait for the soft pillowed thud
Of heart on heart.
Dancing through the street
Your voice
The rhythm that moves
My feet
The way you look at me
The melody.
Looking up
And falling down
Be warned I'm falling
Into you

The world I’m living in is getting smaller
The walls are closing in
And every thing feels
A little warmer.
Reaching out
(I’m wearing gloves,
too hot to touch bare skinned)
I feel for the impermeable skin
Of reality
Moving in
(I can’t breathe in,
the air is thick, congested.)
The partitions
Between
Dreaming and Real
Are becoming a radial blur
Of movement and confinement
Trying
(aspiring)
to share a space;
A geometric pace
Of shapes and shifting,
I am drifting
Only to sink
again
to the bottom
of the world,
where the stars are grey against
a pitch black (falling down)
sky.
Sing me a lullaby,
Close my eyes,
And sleep me through the
Slow death of falling walls.

No song I could sing
No whispers in your ear
Could ever
Amount to the volume
Of language I want
To dance for you.

In me
You lit a fire
That burned through
The stagnate black
And sparked my desire.

I am pyre,
Burning,
An effigy
Charring
In cheers’
to love
and loving.

I am ***** ash
And floating
No more devoting
Naked flame to
This blaze
That burned
For you.

Through
Hands...

With this pain
Comes the dull roar
Of rain
Within
The already drowning
Chambers of my heart.
Dryness depart
And all that’s left
Are stale
Puddles
Of discontent
Better left
Drying.
Trying
Crying
Denying
The slow seeping
Scars
That tunnel deep
And creep from one hollow
To another.

Unplug meI'm too youngtoo oldtoo coldto stoke the fire.Wake me upfrom this requiem, midnight thrashinggag and scream.Closed eyes and open memories. Stitch me up i am tornasunder.A folded paperripped, shredded andseparating with the wind.Do you hear the thunder?Wet tear dropsraining, pouring, falling,blurring the lines betweenreal and illusionLeaving;pull me home,bring me closeand tightinto the world.Your gaze for a blanketin the breeze of discontentchill spentand warming from the outside in.

One foot
In front
Of the other.
Onwards and upwards
Eyes front.

Quiet tears
Pool within
Heels digging in
I will not cry
I cannot cry
I shall not cry
**** knows why

I am swaying on
The fringe
Between
Falling and fallen

crawling

Slowly slowly
Duck n weave
Heart on sleeve

Hiding behind corners
Eyes down.
Tight frown
Eyebrow furrow
I am the badger
Burrowed
The ostrich
With his head
Planted
Quietly
In the ground.

I am sound
And sounding
Calling
Crying
Trying
So very hard
To just
Keep on Keeping on.

Ghostwriter

"Dear Diary" said the scribe onto the page. "What is it i wonder, that inflates my **** to as big as my ego when i write about myself + take the time to pretend that i care?

Tick Tock

fix-it-man

A voice to drive this passion.

Transitional transcendental trapped
betwixt
The written and the spoken
word.
A restless journey
dependent on interpretation and perception.

Then to become of word into form.
To breathe ink and birth creation
into reality.
Then i could sing these words and dance to each rythmic strain.
It would be life lived as it is written.

If time will provide.

Then of course this discourse will close the gap and bring me closer to myself.

Oh Myself! You're back again, how i missed you and your self indulgent interest.
If only you were there, the spectacle, you see, was me.
And for a nano-chromatic passing of time, you and me, us, you see, we were actually, honestly, one and the same.
The spoken word had become the written and with little contamination from self, had become true and of conscience.

And i call myself a scribe? as i pen a silent voice with softly spoken conviction

like never before

an open door

and the sun
it shields:
i yield

and still the stairs are bare.

I will not
cannot
am afraid

and caged still
wings clipped

time slipped
casually
out the door.

Feet floored
small ship
moored
i am rotted rope
and frayed edges
braided knot
and fearsome
not
only bound and
endlessly
ebbing
with the flow.

Swelled tide
beside
this one man boat
built for two.

Who is the captain
and who is the
ocean
this motion
is sick
like the frigid sea
within me.

Where are we.
Guide me.
Slip inside me
take my helm
and anchor soon
lest i become one
with the weeds
of tomorrows
sorrow.

You’re awesome like
Strawberry chupa chups and
The taste of **** in my mouth.
You’re fully sick like a hot ride
And long nights spent smiling
*******
Laughing
Touching
Feeling
The fun we have is healing
And makes tomorrow feel like it’s
Miles away.
Have I told you lately that you’re
A *****?

He' a furtive
sneaky quiet boy
scraps of stories at his tongue
Small slips of strings
waiting to be pulled
Undone;
He is nothing without his lies.

Sitting there
with a smile
tattooed
imbued
lips stitched
with invisible thread,
not misread
more unwritten.

He sits smitten
by his undisclosed.
He sits savouring,
favouring the silent stealth
of hidden words.
His privacy is coded, arcane,
It sustains his urge
to keep his as his,
a little something
for his soul, his
alone to feed on.
His alone to feel.

Who is I?
In the Now. I am of true boi essence.
A writer, a recluse, abandoned only of fate: Destiny ever alluring in the palm of my hand.
Limited only by my own inabilty to be present in only one consciousness.
I am split between reality strings.
A permeant spectre, caught betwixt parallel dimensions.
At times incoherrant, lost in esoteric translation.
I am physic(al) - I of breath + flesh, perception being my holster, corruption my armoury.
Intuitively, i am harmonious, sanctonious, welcoming of illuminations and the darker side of each unfettered moon.
Awareness sleeps by my side. Each waking minute guarded. of commonality.
I am enlightened.
I am bouyant.
mobile, fluid-like in kinesis.
Conventional existense being the foundation over which i fly.
Arms outstretched, willing risk to be my pull.
Enticing Love to be my drag.
balance, mediums, equilibrium.
Lifted high amidst winds roaring with possibility.
I am stark in naked complication, although often prone to cover up in cynical, self critical analysis.
I am given of self; being the taker a refreshing discourse to which i stray accordingly.

Of culture i am a liar.
By nature i tend towards honesty only straying when survivalistic path need tread.
I am of blood,
private yet optimistically open to scarring.
By custom i am trained, civil, content.
Of instinct; native raw tongue, i am rampant, rapid in force, compelled to grow then emerge.
Only.
To submerge
is to take full scope.
i am telescopic
in view of A/all else to which i drown my vision.
I am unsure if i am young,
Although certain that my passage is still being lit by the glow of its entrance, dark passageways luring with their shadows and cavernous corners.
I am liberal, random in speculatory silence. I am idle, often motivated by industrial desire.
Mechanical in process, structured of cerebreal architecture, yet somewhat discombobulated in particularity.
Sporadic be my strain, its think tank choking always on the weeds of sorrow.
Essentially i am nothing: yet overwhelmingly everything.
I was
I am
I will
therefore i
Exist
to i as
A/all and nothing.
As yesterday is to tommorrow, and visa versa, i am a window, a door, a channel:
as closed as i am open.
Dependant only on my own deliverence of influence and potential.
Driven by the promise of future and the demands of my past.
I am a vehicle in time, my presence, my motion, my journey
is I.

I am lying on my back
On a quilted sea
Of green and blue.
My eyes are closed
And I can see me
Clearly in my minds eye
A swagger in my step,
A boy, rising,
Full stride.
I am raw hide and
Warm pelt.
My skin is bare and I can feel
The fur of a snail trail
Beneath my clasped hands
Upon my belly.
I can smell musk in the air
A manliness mixed
With the fragrant vulnerability
Of nakedness.
My eyes are closed
And I don’t want to open them.
My heart is burgeoning
My soul is climbing
Evolving
I am him.
Becoming,
Being,
And safely rocking
on this sea of sweat and dreams spilt.
With my eyes closed.

Breathing in,
Slowly, calmly,
For I can feel tears already forming beneath closed lids,
I open my eyes
And cast a shadowed gaze
Downwards
And along the lines of what I had been watching
Within my minds eye.
I cannot lie,
Here as I type,
I remember that sinking feeling
As if I am sinking again now,
I don’t know how
to describe
That ***** feeling
Of being stuck inside this skin
This skin that lies
This skin that hides
What is buried deep within me.
That which belongs to me,
That which is mine.
That which has always been and always will be
Me.
And I cried.
My heart surged,
it plunged into a scared and hurting blackness.
And I felt myself falling
Into misery
I looked down on the body
That was lying
On a quilted blue and black see
And saw me
For what I truly am
In the flesh.
In those moments
I wish I could live my every day
Eyes closed
And breathing in that which I see inside me
I wish I could bury my head inside my heart
And depart from the flesh.
Hide from this shell
This private hell
That wears itself outside of me.

Eyes open I see me for who I am
And I cry
And I want only
Again
For eyes closed.
Indisposed,
Sickened.


I am fit with eyes closed
And all I can see
Is the man inside me.

I love you
Do you know that…
Cause you should.
I love you like a pen knife loves wood.
I love you like the moon loves the tide.
You are hemmed inside
Like the silk lining of a finely tailored coat.
You float my boat;
The bridge to my moat.
I could rhyme of you until
Dead poets fell from the sky
I don’t know why
I feel this way
Lets just say
That some things are meant to be
And that I see
In us
A million days,
A Thousand ways
A spring dusk haze
Of Beauty in Love
And Happiness in
Togetherness
Foreverness.
You n Me
Sailing a passionate sea
In a boat built for two.
I love you.

It feels like I’m falling
When really I’m flying
which is why
my feet don’t feel like they’re touching the ground
(once lost, now found, I am soaring homeward bound)
Feels like I’m crying
When really I’m laughing
these tears
that fall crystalline clear from once
muddied dark and dying eyes
are from smiling all the time.
Early mornings and a reason to rise.
Small kisses, deep sighs,
Love denying conviction
A heart soul lust
triptych addiction
I’m drowning already
and yet only half submerged
Destiny converged
To bring time ever alluring into my open
Wanting, waiting palm.
You bring a calm to my daze
A serenity to the inner madness
That chews and claws within
You fill the void that had become my universe
Each dwelling sadness you reverse
With your tender touch
And deep blue cave water eyes.
I cannot deny
The passion you inspire
I cannot ignore the flame you ignite
So stow my fright
And onward sail
Ballast full
Heart pull
And happiness tugging
Serendipitous
At the blood red stitches
of my patched and tough tender
worn, now swelling heart.

This young love
This winter dream
It would seem I am the luckiest man
Alive.
I hesitate to say the words
That sit safely nestled,
nursed and budding
Inside me
The words that speak of love and loving. You see I am falling
Scratch that,
Have fallen,
Am smitten
And calling
Your name
Alongside the name of love.
I love you
I am in love with you.
I am loving
So much love
For you.
This growing colour inside my heart
Is a picture
Still painting
Of you.
A masterpiece in the making.
A priceless piece of beauty tied by
An endless string of dreams.
This surreal happiness.
Nothing is as it seems.
I check myself hourly
With a pinch
To ensure I'm not dreaming
And that this
Extraordinary feeling Is real.
Upside down,
You've turned my frown
Into a smile
And I would walk
Infinite miles
To return
The love
You
Spill inside me.

so unprepared for
such a lack of
inspiration.
Theres nothing worse
than an
insular soul
with no cross to bear.
A voice without a message
is like a knife without a vein.

Something sits
Unstirred
Inside me
Something
Dark and resting
Something
Stark and waiting
Bated
Listlessly
Listing
A ship unbalanced
A stone upturned
A lover spurned
A nightmare earned.

There is silence
Screaming
Tongue tied
From the place
Where my throat meets
My clavicle.
That puddle in the skin
Beneath which
My voice
Spins
Out of control
Whole
And bidding,
Hidden.

It is in the a.m
And I am alive
I am breathing
(cigarette smoke)
awake and dreaming.
Writing, scheming words
And drawings pictures
In my mind.
Bleeding fears
Slowly,
ink stained
Onto the page.
Dark, crisp and early morning
There is no warning for the
Nightmares that wake me
Shake me
Take me from the
waist deep and pulling
From below.
Fears bestowed
Cryptic Stitches sewn
Little black dots
That stretch
Blood stained
Engrained
From his spirit to his soul.
They take him whole
And tear pieces
From each night
Fright followed
Closely by the respite of
Eyes open
Short breath
And a memory prone
To fading.

Little kitten
i would have your
purr
and bristle fur
inside of you
i'd be lion
strong
And you could scratch
and cut
and use me as your
post.
And i would drink you
up
up up
my tongue my throat
a
vestibule in time
catching and licking and suckin
and taking you in
sublime.
All fluid and raw flesh and blood
My hunger for you is feline *** canine
Bloodthirst, this urge
this roar
inside of me
for you.
Animal intent
I am your awakening,
the ache to your throb
you pulse through my veins
and i want to be taken
in your claws.

You are not submissive
and i am not Domme
but you'd melt in my paws.
Up high
Against a wall
i would carry you on my shoulders
your back against the wall
and drink and breathe and become your flesh
from within you i'd break and re-mould
and detail the design of your love
for me.

I would be your strength
embodied
a boy of flesh
of depth
of passion
of friendship
fashioned intrinsically
with love and
Oneness.

I can only be the only one.

I walked right on into your life,
Stormed right on in through the closed and creaking doors,
Knocked down the walls
Wearing come **** me boots
And a packer
Unpacked and willing
Smiling like I’d already swallowed the canary
I put it out there you know
To meet you
To have you meet me
To meet my maker
My Love Set Match
I volleyed the ball straight
Into the wanting
Court of your heart
And waited
Breath bated
For your solid, resounding return.
I stole inside you while you slept
Unstitched your skin
Climbed in and
Sewed myself deep and everlasting
inside.
I spoke softly to your shadow
Through your dreams
Until it grasped my hand
And now, like glue, I am stuck to you.
I smeared my love
Across your chest
With wet kisses
And a love bequeathed by lust.
I handed you my trust
And watched as you unwrapped it
And placed it lovingly within your own.
I tore down my walls to get to you
I walked through fiery insecurity
And swam through fear infested waters
I battled demons
And won
I lost my voice
And sung
Of two souls
Found
Two hearts bound
And a love all enduring connected.

Talking just the 3 of us
Me, Myself, and I
found a cafe in my mind,
sippin lattes
killin time.

Found a common topic,
the presence of my mind.
Thought we'd try and analyse,
but thought not to waste the time.

Shootin the breeze
with all three different
me's...
Life is like a latte'
time killed,
milk spilled
and a napkin to soak up
the tears.