At dusk I hang up
a worn blue work
shirt that smells
strongly of love
of dirt of the earth
melancholy, sweat
yesterday's brews
the blues, regret
twenty cigarettes
black breath
of the bone moth
old blood, moon dust
spring pollen, summer
grass, Autumnal ****
winter's cold blast
sea salt and pine needles
mountain laurel, desert air
my dog's hair, I swear
I can't bear the thought
of washing or throwing away
all the stains, the growing pains
the laughter, the sorrows
these history lessons I need
to get me through tomorrow.

from afternoon thunderstorms
while the sun still shines
and the sky crackles
a hypnotic lullaby

I skirt the edges of humanity,
a lone wolf, incalculable
in silent black dresses that flutter
and colossal ideas that squirm,
yearning to see themselves
reflected back in the moonlight.

You shift on my horizons,
a quiet place amidst the swell
of violent noise and clenched teeth,
and something in you keeps
drawing me back- a magnetism.
I walk amongst your leaves,
feel your scattered light,
and it is calm. It is home.

You see me, not the smiling
daguerreotype that I paste up,
but deeper- inky black and serpentine,
with feelings that swell
and burst like balloons.

We tread lightly over the bones
of things we've left unsaid,
our eyes reflecting mirror images
of words that swim and satiate
this primal thirst, a spark
of unconventional
connectivity.

There's something about the rain
The way it can soothe
Yet cause a storm
And is associated with sadness and pain

I usually like the rain
It takes you in
It surrounds you in its pool
It will cover you from head to toe

Its droplets land on bare skin
Unprepared for what it has to offer
But falling to you graciously
In it's tumble down

What I don't like about the rain
Is it's connotations of heartache
For it should not be this way

I visualise the rain as romantic
It enables the purest of moments
An innocent touch of people
In their hectic dash for cover

We should be like the rain
We should not settle
We should rise again
Albeit for another fall

It is not sad, the rain
As it is how we should be
Falling for each other
Landing in times of need

it's 3:30 and i'm up
thinking about the past again
drowning in the thoughts you bring

i'm starting not to make any sense
and i can't see past my phone screen
the time keeps changing, getting
onward with the night

i keep dreaming
and not really dreaming
i keep smiling
but inside i'm still kinda dying

i don't know what to make of any of this
i don't know what to make of any of this
i don't know what to make of any of this

(16/8/2015)

I count the pills that were discoloring into the bile on the kitchen floor.
Like when you hold skittles in your sweaty hands for too long.
The contrast between the comparison made me shudder.
Though at that moment I did feel like a child.
The red was almost comedic against the white tile.
The beer cans were a crescent moon around the scene.
I can see you there sitting on the cold floor.
Palms on the ground, back against the corner.
I can see it and you were beautiful.

I straighten up.
My heart tumbles down into the pit of my stomach.
I feel so selfish.
I was glad to have you as my companion in this alternate world.
This world where for so long,
I felt like the only one to want to live there.
Now you are here, with me.
Of course you are.