A new world,
A freer place closer to the Earth,
A place built around nature not on it,
And the ways of life that here have been forgotten.

A world of choice,
Where boundaries are wide and blurred,
Where my decision is mine alone - unquestioned,
And there's enough space to be myself.

Many hundreds of children
Forming their impression of the world
As I sit, bitter, but hopeful,
With a face that forgot how to smile
And eyes that learned to be shallow
Or shallow enough
That the truth could only be found
By one who searched for it
Their tears are ended
By simple joys I no longer know
Perhaps they will not need the fears I grew
Perhaps they will need more
But for now they do not know

In silence motionless,
But dancing with his laughs,
Rising with his spirits,
Falling with his heart,
Each wrapped around his soul,
One a hint of his truth,
The perverse meaning behind his words,
The other joining the first as his laughter shakes his smile.

Sometimes inaction,
Does more good,
Than rushed,
Illogical decisions,
With no respect,
For truth.

Her eyes put galaxies to shame
Her words like starlight
glistening gently in the dark
She is more beautiful than all the heavens
Brighter than even the fullest moon
That I could even think to touch her heart
Is no less than a blessing I don't deserve

She places smiles upon my lips
And warmth in my soul
From those smiles spill words
And from my soul songs pour
In my heart's heady desperation to repay
the love with which she has drowned
the very fabric of my mind

So it's time to hide again,
Behind a broken figurehead,
Dust off the mask and wear it
Not proud, ashamed,
But not allowed to show it,
So I'll let the mask hold my tears,
And shed them at home.

The most beautiful season?
I think so,
Though others yearn
For crisp sheets of white
Remembering our footsteps
Or for the relief
Of clear skies and dry heat
Or for a shallow promise
Of new life that never quite
Lived up to its reputation.
Yes, who can fault the brilliance
Of fire-tinted trees?
Or the taste in the air
With that comforting bite?
And the way the sun sets
Taking its time to blaze the clouds
Into mellow haze.
Autumn, with her chill and dying,
Still glistens in my eyes.

How dare they keep the camera's eyes on her face?
That's not what 'everyone' wants to see!
What purpose does she serve but to be ogled,
Or give Him something to live for?
And what is it with films these days,
Handing out female leads?
How am I supposed to immerse myself
In a body so weak and vulnerable to attack
From people like Me?
And how dare they let her save the day,
When she's supposed to be rescued?
How can I feel important if I can't be the one
Protecting her with the muscles I earned by being
Born one way, not the other?
And why isn't she falling apart and crying?
It's so unrealistic that she'd be able to keep
her fragile emotions under control,
Shouldn't she be scared at the sight of danger?
How is He supposed to comfort her
If she doesn't need it?!

How is she supposed to believe in herself,
If every time someone tells her she's capable,
You're** there to prove her wrong?

The smoothest screams carve faces in these cliffs,
And wrinkles as they age,
Become cracks and gaping holes,
That before long collapse in on themselves,
Until those eyes of rock and dirt,
Cry from hollow shells.

A rush, panic
nothing calm or sure
as if we hadn't done this ten,
twenty, thirty times before and
now a prop's missing
a line's dropped
but no-one let on,
the show musn't stop
for our touch-ups of makeup to
make us look worn
a fake limp - a real one,
a tired shirt torn,
coins on the table,
ribbon in my hair,
waistcoat, tie, jacket and
a deadly stare - there's
no time to wallow
in success or mistake
the stage is a world
and we only get one take.

Perhaps once I thought sadness,
Was an option,
No,
The option.
And that smiling was just,
An afterthought,
Or,
Replaceable.
But I know now that the real choice,
Is in my hands,
And,
My heart.

I just have to choose right.

Such a sad world
The sky weeps
The earth screams
Where such a marriage
Of shackles and the blind
Seep into the air
Only whispers remain
Of days before hearts froze
Of time before the bind
In destined ruin
Forgone fates cry out
Empty voices in the dark
Insistence pours into
Virtue cracked and crumbled
Upon Agony's altar

And she never said a word
Without the sound of music in her head
She never gave her heart
Until she knew her blood was red
She tried to open up
But couldn't give enough
Until she found herself on the keys.

Coloured shards
Now nothing but the ashes
Of the beauty they once held
Burnt in an instant by
Stupidity's servants'
Brutish hands.

Step back,
Into the shadows,
And hide,
Or pay.

Kneel down,
Under the radar,
And hide,
Or pay.

Mouth shut,
Keep your secrets,
And hide,
Or pay.

Be anything you want,
Just don't be different.

I can feel it still,
Where the blow should have hit,
Where the marks on my wrist from the rope should have been.

I can taste it still,
Where the fire should have been,
Where the blood in my veins should have choked and died.

I can hear it still,
Where the screams should have called,
Where the ring of metal should have ended it all.

But I can breathe it still,
When the air fills my lungs,
And heart can beat and race and fall just as it always did

There are few eyes,
Which catch mine as yours,
Call my gaze.

There are few hands,
Which lift me as yours,
From the shade.

There are few smiles,
Which warm me as yours,
Lights a blaze.

There is no heart,
I could love but yours,
Keeps me alive.

Dreaming,
In sun-kissed haze
of calmer days,
Back when grey skies meant
no more than a brighter time ahead.

Sleeping,
At the first burning sky
of the third sunset of spring,
Waiting for seasons to change
and making them whisper by more quickly.

Thinking,
On the things that never
Mattered to anyone else,
While all else hurry past
hoping for another normal day,
I stay still,
Waiting for summer.

An epic battle
Of numbers against paper
Of ideas versus plans
A determination to defy
The rules the world is governed by
And bring inconceivable to life

Allow yourself to lay aside
Critical eyes and embrace
An imperfect truth
Another ending that might not have been
But was anyway.

Allow yourself a moment
To forget to question
And instead go with it
Run with it, ignore your legs screaming
And chase fantasy.

Allow yourself to see
Through naïve eyes
And glimpse the radiance
That only undoubting innocence can
Bless us with.

Allow yourself a brighter world,
A lighter narrative, an uplifting song,
And let it live in your heart.

This stolen-or-found pencil writes
Far more smoothly than any keyboard
Or any pen of my own
So sterile
With no past
No stories to tell but
This...
This lead is filled
With memories
With sights and sounds
Of journeys
Of places I've never seen
Inspiration beyond any truth
From imagination moments

Squinting between the rushing bodies,
for some way to go,
some place I know.
But still I'm alone,
afraid, breathing
too fast, my
heart beating,
too fast, the
crowds moving,
too fast, and
pushing too
hard. I don't -
I don't know where I am. I -
I don't know where I'm going. I just -
I want to go home now but I don't know -
I don't know how to get there. Please won't
someone help me?
Anyone?
Please.
No use.

Where are you?
I need you now,
Fill my senses with concepts,
Engulf me in ideas,
Bless me with the words,
That often flow easily,
But today,
Less,
Freely,
What price,
Do you demand?
Simply for a word?
Or a string of thought?

There's something at the window,
Something waking in the night,
Something in the kitchen,
Something's turning out the light,
Something's foot on the floorboards,
Something's hand on the door,
Something getting closer,
Something louder, something more
than just something in my eye,
Or something made up in my head,
Not just something I imagined,
I can hear the something's breath,
Now there's something on my shoulder,
Something cold in my side -

And now it doesn't matter,
Something hurt me and I died.

Floating off into summer dreams,
That mean more than just days,
And not just an escape.

Not a moment to smile,
Or bask in the haze,
That I made in my head.

Instead a release, not joy,
But hot salt trickles down my cheek,
And I cry without restraint.

And I allow myself to feel,
To be sad, for once, and weak,
To let emotion out and, in turn,
Allow happiness in.

It seems we're slipping backwards,
Losing ground, footing, power,
And all the voices, all the opinions,
All the beliefs that shout the loudest
Keep shouting over us
Keep snapping back at us
Keep their hands on our mouths.

But we have marched before,
We will march again,
And our numbers only grow.

It seems we're at the mercy,
Of the polls, or the pundits,
Or the column writers
Or the political correspondents
Whose platforms give them high ground
From which to stamp at our climbing hands.

But we have marched before,
We will march again,
And our numbers only grow.

It seems we're fading away,
Like we were no more than
Dust blown off an old view
An old way of doing things
But we will not settle,
We cannot settle,
For our duty is worth more
Than a few pence a month.

We have marched before,
We will march again,
And keep marching,
Until we are unstoppable.

So many options hurtle through my mind
Latching themselves to logic for no more than pit stops
Ideas dive through chicanes
And screech around hairpins
And always returning to the same place:
Panic.

As each passes I try to leap aboard
To cling on to speeding concepts
But I am either knocked to the ground
Or flung to the side
And crumple into a rag-doll of
Confusion.

But lying here, wrecked, I lose sight of the race
For a while, the sky, the grass, the air all stand still,
My vision returns, filled now with clarity
Colours contrast and no longer fade
And simply, in the midst of my mistake:
Peace.

Snapping across,
My window,
Cold bites of clouds,
The teeth of gales,
Strike the glass.

Screaming against,
My window,
Howls of the air,
Frozen by winter,
Rushing inside.

Pounding at,
My window,
The fist of broken limbs,
From war-torn ancient,
Giants of bark.

But the thin pane,
Protects me and,
Keeps
me
sane

Internal conflict, they call it,
I call it a siege,
A staring contest decorated with cannonballs.

Two sides,
Uncompromising,
No negotiation, just fruitless patience.

Both reason and bargain,
But neither side is listening,
And in the end it comes down to the walls.

How well did each side,
Hide itself away?
And what will it take to bring them out?

Sometimes smiles come for no reason,
Sometimes tears fall and you don't know why,
Sometimes truth pours out too early,
Sometimes patience deserts for too long.

Somewhere mistakes that were made did not linger,
Somewhere decisions were taken with more care,
Somewhere honesty was taken in measure,
Somewhere thoughts calmed the beating of hearts.

Somehow nothing ever seems to matter,
Somehow losing never seems to hurt,
Somehow knowing it's hopeless is a reason,
To keep going.

So I become the air: constant but turbulent at times,
And I keep wings from falling limp to the ground,
Eagles can't fly forever,
But the air will not let them down.

Lord you are the queen of my heart,
I am your daughter,
Invited into your royal house,
A place I don't deserve,
And invited to share my place
To share a wondrous gift
Allow those I love to be loved
More than I could ever love them
Alone

Hopeful,
Right there,
So close,
Then vibrations,
No control,
Broken,
Helpless,
Dead straight,
Towards the wall,
Screaming engines,
White smoke obscures,
Crunching gravel,
Then impact,
Black.

The longing burns in
The very fabric of skin -
Armour, yet torture.

Those eyes look back at me,
Softer than I remember,
Brighter than I thought.

That slight smile I've wanted for so long,
Smiles back at me,
Lips shining where the light catches them.

My skin looks just smooth enough,
My jaw not so harsh,
My cheeks pale.

My head tilted at just the right angle,
My hand in just the right place,
And for that moment I can truly believe:
I am pretty.

Was he afraid to acknowledge end?
Or did he greet Death as a friend?

Did he accept?
Or refuse protest?
Did he step softly in silent submission?
And slip slowly away by own decision?
Or perhaps he struggled and fought his fate?
In disbelief? But all too late.
Did terminal claws ***** his skin?
Hold firm and drag him kicking in?

Was his killer known?
Did he die alone?
Were his last words self-pitiful lies?
Or pleading for mercy in desperate cries?

And was it wrong for him to die?
Then, still with youthful eyes?
Or did his cruel mistress Destiny decide,
That old age would not worry his mind?
That all he'd need were brief, fleeting glances,
To longingly watch Eternity's dances?

Did God decree?
That all he'd see,
Would be untouchable by his hand?
Was every drop of fresh pain planned?

When his body froze with sharpened chill,
Did corrupted shouts of anger still,
Provide his soul with empty reason,
To rebel against is heart with treason?

And was that why?
At his last sigh,
He finally lost his mind?
Or made himself blind,
To his past?
At last.

Yet despite it all,
He still recalls,
Himself in vain memorial.

Be safe,
On foreign ground,
Don't venture too far,
Away from home,
And if you hear me calling,
Please reply,
And let me know you're okay,
Then come home safe,
As soon as you can.

We sat across, hands held
And told each other our past
And I admitted to myself
My failings, my fear,
And cried in her arms,
Releasing the panic,
Letting her voice soothe me,
Her closeness ease the trembling
That takes over me so quickly,
She says I can love,
She says I must love myself,
That I matter,
And then I knew for sure,
Where my shattered heart lies.

I am not afraid to own up to the fact,
That I have ****** things up enough,
For a thousand lifetimes.

And I am not afraid to accept the fact,
That the **** I've done,
Has hurt enough people,
And shed enough blood,
To send me straight to hell.

And I am not afraid to admit to the fact,
That no matter how many times I try to make up for it,
My soul is ******,
My mind is ******,
And my heart is ******.

But if a ****** up ******* like me,
Is still able to accept that some people are different,
And is still able to love them for who they are,
And doesn't judge people for where they came from or who they love,
Then why can't you?

Through branches of shaking trees
Clinging on to their long-dead leaves
Lights glare in my tear-stained lenses
And flicker between breaths

Those bark-coated fingers
Reach out with shadows
On moss-stained fences
Tired, unable to stand

And in these fading hours
I see only where the dark touches
And smile only at dead and dying
Broken and falling.

Those glinting lights...
Needles in my eyes

Shaking hands,
Shaky heart,
Shaken mind,
Will not stop me,
From smiling again,
Dancing again,
Laughing again,
Even when things aren't,
Easy to deal with,
Simple to cope with,
Painless to live with,
Because I am stronger,
Than my mistakes,
Than bitter stabs,
And hateful words.

A spider's web:
Invisible when the clouds come,
But when the golden streaks of light make their way,
Through some pathway of nature's design,
A pattern of perfect engineering,
Shows itself for a shy moment,
until it fades back to the safety of disguise.

Could we go somewhere?
Would it be running from life?
Should that be the way?

The clouds seem to dimple in a grid
As if poured over an egg box
And left to set in the sky
Further along the grid sharpens
Now rows of white cut into the sky
And between them blue stripes
(too bright for so late)
Sweep down to the distance
And stretch past the corners of my vision

If I chose to leave it,
Just give up now and live,
Just as expected by others,
Then it would be easier.

That's what I'm told,
That's why people ask "Why?"
Because they honestly believe,
It would be easier.

But they don't understand that,
In reality it would be easier,
But only for everyone else,
It wouldn't be easier,

For me.
It would fill me with self-hatred,
And dissatisfaction with,
Who I am pretending to be.

There is no choice,
There is no easy way out,
This is me,
And I'm not going to change,
Unless I want to.

I do not have an empty mind,
It's just filled with pointless things:

Beauty, music, the smell of the air,
The shades of blossom and grass,
Romantic feelings, laughter and smiles,
The sound the birds make in spring,
Flowers and words to describe them,
Hope, ambition, inspiration,
The way sunlight glints on leaves,
How I feel, how I wish I felt,
What I want to do with my life,
Who I am.

Pointless.

In the heart of the evening,
Alone but for the passive hum of the fridge,
Waiting for the creeping force of fatigue
To press down upon my eyes.

He comes each night to interrupt,
To steal away my hours that march on unwavered,
And pass by without interest
In a solitary sleeping girl.

And from Him, She takes my limp body,
To sweeten the inescapable emptiness,
With promises, tales and memories
Crafted from my own