Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Some things intensify
sounds for one
that look that says come on
the rush of blood when
things go good,

ah
we become tuning forks
catching chords on our lips.

She says,
really?

ideally
She would have loved this
and given me a kiss
which would become
another chord
to learn.
There are no garages for when you have a breakdown, no managers to help you when the world caves in,

been there done that
help yourself
or be a ****,
oh
easy for me to say today

I came through the worst bits
picked myself up and gritted my teeth
licked my lips and said,
let's go again.

we're
fukin idiots
like toys r us
but no games
just aches and pains,

out of the spiral but had something viral
luckily
the doctors cured me.

here I be
twenty first century,
She says
give it a rest.
The version of me
Tethered to you
Is artistic and funny
And hopeful, too
Something more and better
Than myself alone
Sort of almost going home
You bring out the magic in me
Bibbity boop and alicka zee
Your mojo and my magic
There’s no limit to what that could be
You look again
but you know it's him,
grim and sombre
like a grey September,

you only scratch at the surface
and the mirror seems to know
how deep is deep and just how far
that deep is still to go.

you look again,
and now he's gone
or was he ever there?
That crunch when you think that you've stood on a snail, but you know it's the snow and yet you still look for a snail,

The mailman comes when the mailman can and sometimes he comes in a little red van, slipping and sliding and riding the clutch, he's a good mailman, but as a driver he *****.

Snowploughs moving like slow cows and you're stuck behind one.

This is what will be,
Summer,
just a memory,

thermals you'll find are
not just things for eagles
to rise up on.

Enjoy what is left
and I don't mean that
krap newspaper.
Dreams are great but when you don't dream what does it mean?
who can decipher the nights when the lights go out and there is only darkness?

waking up after not dreaming is like digging yourself out of a hole in your head, you know it's your bed and you made it, but not one single dream so how would you grade it?

on a scale of one to when I'd give a night with no dreams a minus ten.

And if this is reality,
where is the  Butler
and what did he see?
The offended become more offended by those who would defend the offenders,
confused?

it's easy really
hear no
see no
speak no

and if that's the case,
the monkeys on your backs win.

grin and share it on social media.
Next page