Get out of my head.
You weren't invited
Too many are already
on their way, unrequited.

Love has been cruel to
me too, I promise
and to all who ever
suffered my kiss.

I'm sorry, I'm honest
Love is best that way
Ugly, fearful and true
Get out of my head
or I'll be honest to you.

People are flies today.
They swarm and buzz
and get in my mouth and nose.
They're like cigarettes
or biscuits -
Hard to quit -
inessential -
I have to try it.

People are everywhere.
Get out of my hair.
I retreat to my private lair,
not a care in the world
but loneliness.

People are like a cheese board.
They make me dream,
something else about biscuits
and go well with a few glasses of red wine.

So many cheeses to choose from
and not one of them is mine.

Being happy isn't having enough money to go out tonight
it isn't slurring your words
or being surrounded by birds
in a bar or on a hillside.
Being happy isn't having your political party in power
or having *** in the shower
or drinking your favourite tea
or getting down on one knee and hearing a shriek of joy.
it's understanding the word "no"
and carrying your grandma's wishes with you wherever you go.
Being happy isn't a fluffy, roasted sweet potato
or a sesame bagel with smashed avocado
it's stooping down low
and saying hello to what grows
at the bottom of the social food chain
and talking and taking away a bit of someone else's pain
it's swapping smiles with a new stranger every day
walking miles through danger not to have your say
but to hear someone else's.
Being happy is always giving a couple of quid to the homeless,
whether you have it or not.
it's keeping smiling when there's a twist in your plot
Being happy, it's, it's cleaning your flatmate's dishes as well as your own
it's having a clear state of mind - where you feel at home.

Your legs will not carry you quickly enough.
Your voice will not shout loudly nor whisper quietly enough.
Your heart will not stop beating and let you be still
until it stops beating and you are still.

You will whisper quietly in a voice that booms and echoes:

"Enough."

What a pity
What shame
Sand and grit
are in my teeth.

I need to know
what's in your head
I can't trust
Do you have a toothbrush?

I have one
It works well
when I use it,
and I feel good.

But my teeth get *****
more than twice a day.
Yours could too.
I would know
if ever you flashed me a smile.

We're all subjects of love
Subjects of fear and longing
living day by day
because -
Smiling at the right people,
vibing the wrong.
Everyone sings their own song
of their own love.

Fear and longing hide
in the inner parts.
I never wanted an ignorant melody
thickly articulated through a cloud of smoke,
tickling a beer glass
confused and stenching
because-
We all learned some manners as children
and knew they were true,
waving our banners of politeness,
mine red, yours blue.
Purple would be a royal colour
if we combined the two.

You're wrong.
I might be right
because-
all heads are "me" when they hit the pillow at night.

If you were a blade of grass,
which blade would you be?
How long does a blade of grass last
before dreaming of being a daisy?

Grass is stationary,
it's still and it's lazy.
He needs to stand up
if he wants to be a daisy.

Daisies are fickle
and die for half the year.
Grass is patient and constant and free.
I'm leaving for the fields
to find a blade for me.