skin like a frozen chicken
tired eyes
and a voice like smoke
braindead
unwashed
and you tell me a joke

wanting to laugh
but deep within
a thought of death
troubled
exhausted
so save your breath

a kind soul
with smiling eyes
in good health
you can't get to know me
how can I know you
if I can't know myself

the thick heady rush
of my midnight dredge
a hallucination
when I don't recognise myself in the mirror

the roll of my eyes
when I stand up
and my legs give way
in a lopsided dance to the wall

the curl of my fingers
as they pull down the curtain
and my arms break through
the glass window

"how ******* sweet
it would be to throw it all away"

you say, from your warm house, in your clean clothes

"to just pack it all in
and live, out there"

pausing to sip your drink

"maybe I should
travel more"

yeah right.

pig-ignorant and blind
well fed and unkind
an ivory tower
of meaningless power
you never will leave behind

I'm sick of being sick of everything


deep red, it burns a hole into my skull

original right? four in the morning, I bet you're crying now
you alienate your friends and revere drug abuse
how ******* original

39, 40, 41, only son, nothing done, faulty one
63, 64, 65, tricky lives, slicker knives, I'm sick, I lie
98, 99, 100, and I dread, and how red, I'm brain dead

those that bore us with tales of drunken nights
cheap wine and what she said to him
who send you pictures of their pets
and watch TV because "everyone is watching it"

those time-wasters, those narcissistic fools
who call you 'friend'
who open their hollow heart
and what flutters out?
"my ex-boyfriend said..."
"when I was in Thailand..."
"Isn't that just like me?"

those reflections, they are not worth your time

My head rushed, as I turned over to sleep
I should be doing something, I'm hopeless
those are the first two things I think this morning

My breakfast, if you can call it that, won't stay down for long
I crawl to the sink, my skin looks yellow in the mirror

Why, why, why? Those are the third fourth and fifth thoughts
why do I get up, why do I have to do this, why

I'm a balloon on a string that needs to be cut

"Bored.." I told her
"just bored of this, of here. Of you"

What is it inside me that grows like a virus?
infects my weak will, and forms a thick exoskeleton
I can go out today and recover in time for tomorrow
I can take the next pill that's handed to me, and greet the trip like an old friend

How can it catch up with me
if I keep changing
the way I'm running

does the rotten fruit
mean you're rotting too?

waking up in the afternoon with
the same sour taste in my mouth
painful nights now reduced to
a dull dream, which I slept through

my mind has caved, and my eyes are black
my skin bubbles and my skull is cracked
the fruit on my desk is rotten
drying up, dead, forgotten
and from the rot you can't go back

I muster up a smile
my thoughts surface like
distant hands against the ice of a frozen lake
dragging their nails across the cold

"I'm...fine" I lied, looking at the wall
my ears rushed like a train passing through a station
a small gust, then a deafening roar
then nothing

I disguised the shaking in my hand
as I ran it through my hair
"I'm just tired, I'm gonna leave"
my voice cracked on the word "leave"
I wasn't sure if she'd heard but I'd already turned away

The hands had clawed at the ice relentlessly
and now they'd broken through

disappointment fell like snow, and rested against tacky coloured lights
why do I always sit on my own at parties?

I hear the people I call my friends all around me
laughing hollow laughs
for jokes which I didn't hear

too quiet to shout over the terrible music
I just sit and wait
for something that never comes

I imagine a nearby bar
where a local musician plays guitar
or the hill behind me
overlooking a thousand winking street lights
I open my eyes and I'm here

just sitting

drips fell from the inky sky and splashed the sea into a crinkled sheet

rain again

there's something different about the rain at night
something a whole lot more sinister

in the drizzle we shiver and throw stones through the watery mist
each one smashes the surface
like enormous raindrops which
crash into the black water

how can something so violent feel so peaceful?
don't try to define it
just at this moment it feels perfect

the waves break onto the stones
and with each one we throw
the stones break back onto the waves

life's old force drags me
and I wake up from my dream
at four in the morning

shouting from outside
shakes the blue dark
in dampened mist

breaking the quiet
like the first footstep on morning snow
and rattling dew off the grass

silent against a sleepless night
I roll over again
eyes wide open

growing older feels
like a sleepless night
at four in the morning

I started dancing just to be around you
but if you knew
how much I hated dancing
would you care?
or would you wish I wasn't there?

I changed how I stand
my hearing
has been bad since I was young
my neck hurts
from leaning in to hear your words

I stopped my rambling
used to talk
now I feel quiet
can you hear
my speech against deaf ears

and now you say
you feel unkind
I changed my ways
you changed your mind

forgotten plans
fade to non existence

we got the night bus back together
but we left on our own
and you never gave me a second glance

through the mud I trek
the long walk back
to my single bed

Life is a suit of armour
leaving me weighted down,
grounded, as if wearing diving boots

sits at the back of my mind
like my silent resentment,
it plagues me

a thousand black flies
in a swarm above me
each one whispers those same old words

nothing will ever
be alright in the end

A smudged grainy ring against blue lines
it cuts through his handwriting like a breadknife

the blue ink ripples with the water-damaged paper
reassuringly human amidst the bleached whiteness

after the initial shock of jumping into ice cold water
the human body is soon numb, and stops sensing the temperature

just like this, I slowly fell into the deep end
so unimaginably deep beneath frantic kicking feet

but now my saddened numbness has changed
I've stopped panicking and thrashing about
and now I tread water

I don't cry at night any more
I don't thrash about, or wish for the energy to scream
now I don't shiver
I tread water

the sun moves cautiously, fading sooner as winter draws in
my sleeping pattern is a dull memory of routine
a sick joke from a different time zone

the taste of my untimely breakfast is indistinguishable
from the cardboard box it comes from
as each spoonful reaches my lips I wonder what I should have done
with every morning I let slip away

muted, I broke eye contact for the sixth time that sentence
the time is 2am, and she sits beside me telling me I'm wonderful

crippled in shyness I say nothing
I want to wrap her up in my soul for the warmth she gives me
but I say nothing

and to her, I'm white with icy numbness
as if I feel nothing

untamed but given
a new life of the same grey
seen to be seen
known to grow withered
of grief-stricken faded memory mist
missed, that ceases to exist
lifted to float of drying drift
which rips at the seams
at falls apart