taunting, twisting
laughing from the shadows
mocking, visiting
me in my worst hours
they’re toxic and dangerous
showing happiness in times there’s not
addictive and scandalous
give me more of what i haven’t got
send me hoping and praying
reality will give me those moments again
hopeless and replaying
better pasts disappearing away
i warp them, manipulate them
worship them, mutilate them
make it hurt less to cope
as they taunt and mock and twist
the knife further into fragile hope
cruel puppet strings they are
playing with a vulnerable mind
all the better to forget
wishing this will be the last time

the imagination can be the cruelest thing
because it's not reality that hurts the most
it's the wanting of a new one
and realising
that you cannot have it.

when i catch myself dreaming
i pay attention and listen
to your heartbeat that's found
in my own when it's missing

I like the world at 3 pm,
where the lights are out and the streets are silent,
raindrops tiptoeing on the glass
giving me comfort in the lonely space,
the house settles for sleep in a softening hum.
My mind bursts to life in swirling colours;
I could open the front door and run out,
lie down on the road and count the stars,
watching them dance and spin in glitter and glam.
I could escape on an empty train
and watch the world fly past in a blurred daze,
still and unmoving and dreaming,
taking its residents amongst flights of desire,
of higher planes and greater distances
while lying motionless in their bed, warm
and for a second, at peace.
I can wish the world away and retreat
to the playful corners and trick mirrors of my mind,
open my soul with hidden keys and unlimited time,
but for now the universe drifts amongst the sky
with an welcoming invitation to its home,
and I watch with wonder and awe,
floating within the galaxy's embracing arms,
letting it open my doors for me
and opening its own in return.

I could
kiss you without meaning,
touch you without feeling,
let thoughts of you fade in with shadows of my mind
passing and unimportant and
fleeting.

I could
pull such empty phrases,
empty my heart of lonely senses
let thoughts of you run wild only with
your skin to mine burning with desire.

But I can't
get back to the past,
there's no point in denying
late at night I find myself thinking
of you more often,
late at night my heart isn't lying.
I can't feel
soft hands and warm arms I want back,
secret notes of wind chime laughs
even though I can't stop myself
from trying.

I could
stop myself
from sinking into the memories
but there's no point in denying
maybe I'm missing you more often.
Maybe that would explain the crying.

what a foolish thing to do
to think of you,
and so late and quiet in the night too.
if you were here
and together were we
i couldn't keep from being a fool to you.
confide in you, so close beside you
and forget my lessons from before.
the past happened to show me
i can't be a fool for you no more.

I thought of you again last night.
Dooming myself to repeat the mistake
of revising the memory of a muted light,
our quickened breaths, our hearts on fire.
I visioned a fantasy of you last night,
where my house is empty and silent,
and the heat tells the truth of what I really want to do,
taste the lips that once belonged to me so violent.
I hated you again last night
for how you make me so vulnerable to miss
a body to hold next to me in bed
the countless times you gave me bliss.
The times when the aching of my heart only meant
I had too much love to share,
and not the selfish need of wanting to feed,
to lust and touch and cast away cares.
I thought of how late in the night
our new year's day dance is not all I want back,
I want the comfort of your smile as you so confidently say
you love me like you did on a now distant day.
But I thought of you again last night
in the only way I know how to,
shedding the meaning of my lonely pain
for a momentary passionate touch of you.
I thought of you again last night
and promised myself this time was the last,
for I cannot spend the night longing for a kiss
I know I will never get back.