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Phillip Knight Jan 2017
I caught a solar flare

It tore somewhere between your words
And my impending despair

You see I was taught to watch the world in three dimensions
To view life in bold colour

Yet sometimes
All I need are your black and white letters upon a flat page

I was the only challenge I really needed
It was you who told me;
I didn't have to be what they want.

I saw a star burst behind that flare,
Its silent explosion was beautiful within its destruction
And I questioned whether life ended there;
Or whether it was creation.

It turns out that I am lost without you.

There was an astronaut
...I believe
Caught between the flare and his own implosion on the outskirts of the explosion.
I watched him disintegrate,
His dust formed its own miniature universe
And when everything settled down
He was still there.

I thought about you
As the stardust in my eyes

As the droplets of ink

As the correlation of all the far reaches

We are three dimensional.
We are colour
Riding the cusp of a solar flare
On the verge of destruction
At the birth of creation.

We are the stardust that lingers in the eyes of life.

I fail to see any other reality than us.
Phillip Knight Oct 2016
Hovering finger
Unsteady upon its own button.

The shake of daily grind
Brings it closer.

No more steadying sensibilities
The last voice has filled an overcrowded head

And with a final sigh

We hit self destruct
Phillip Knight Oct 2016
I thought;
….. In moments of hope
There was something special in the root of my psyche.
(There was no inspiration left)
When eyes closed and hearts shut down
And my body became lost to the wrap of choking scarves
For migration into blank canvas months
I ceased to exist.

I was the death of character
A beautiful flower deserted in a dead field
I became.
For was my desolation the finding of my solace?
Or merely the comfort of my own depression
No more need for niceties.

Chained to a vinyl that spun with a process of blurred vision
Beaten skin
Bruised ego
Was the last verse of the last song written solely for me
If I play it backwards
Would I hear my name

I thought there was something special in my psyche
The ability to help
The strength for others.

Yet as my head hangs low
I see only my silent soul
Phillip Knight Oct 2016
I stood in the night
Single cigarette sizzling towards the tremble of my fingers

I miss you.

Stars dance in the haze of teared eyes
As the moth flirts in the amber hum of a distant street light.

I focus on its centralised nebula
Its burst of heated shades, its distant sun beams.

Looking down upon the single star in my hand.

This is where I would pass to you, for the final breath.
Yet you are only in the stars.  
Within a sky we have prayed towards so many times.

I love you.
For even without you,
You are forever within me.
My third attempt at writing straight to the page, without pre plan or edit. Acting upon the emotion I feel at this moment
Phillip Knight Oct 2016
Scattered cracked black pepper
The Remnants of a final meal
Lie as ashen memories of taste
Lurking reminders of that which has been
Transferred from cheep china to the lips of a lover
Upon the cusp of a final goodbye
The lingering heat left only to serve as a slate to clean.
How every bite savoured a crunch of hope
Leaving room only for reality
A dessert that cannot be stomached
falsified sweetness to not be considered 'the finer things'
When taste has changed to exotic flavouring
Fork etchings and caveman paintings in sweet chilli;
Timeline a love that can not be erased
It seeps into the cracks of tomorrow's aftertaste
Surrounding the words upon which exhaled breath proclaims
I miss you.
In silence as the sound of a solitary bowl creates no further filling nor satisfaction
Last nights plates remain within the cupboard
The flavour of every meal they have ever seen remain
It is their history
Whatever the future may be
Phillip Knight Oct 2016
As the last flick switches electric hum in to silence
Stealing light from the darkened day
I lie blinded and deafened to my own excuse for escape

Under a barren blanket
I see only a singular image
A solitary thought
You, and the repeating words

I miss you, I love you
I miss you, I love you

Wherever you go
You never leave my head
Phillip Knight Sep 2016
We were the cusp of devastation
The bellicose swell of encroaching emotional tides
The slaves bound by opposing grip
Sealed within our very silence
With screaming eyes
Layered in film ripples, reflected responses
walking in reverse to the natural pull of the tilting magnetism
The earth turning in anti-advancement
As history repeats to a murmur of distant hope.

I stripped to the bone for you
Tore shackles and shame from its death grip
Left to choke within a brooding storm of love
It was reckless abandonment
Orphaning myself from the last leap of faith
As I laid waste to unresolved anti-satisfaction
As we clashed
As we ripped at each other
As we broke the final glass ceiling with our thrown stones
Jagged words sharpened into hidden shivs

The destruction was beautiful
It was the meteorites that fell from the fire sky
It was the crackle of simmering embers in the morning
A reminder that there was still a spark left
That within the gentle curls of smoke
There was oxygen that breathed, even when I stopped


I was lying
Lying for the sake of memory
Lying to myself
And lying to you.

I was the pressure pit of a filling gas canister
And you were the loose connection
Bound to my poison
Powerful upon your weakened state
And presidential within your collapsing city walls
You needed me
Because I told you so
I needed no one
That is why I both loved you
And loathed you
The reminder of my broken home
I as the shadow of my father
Looming over you
Puppeteering my wrist
Striking you as the wash against cliff face
Cleansing my history within its repeat

The devastation was beautiful
You were beautiful
Until I destroyed you
And punished you for letting me.
There's never been a moment
That I haven't looked upon you with sympathy
And somewhere
Somewhere inside
I know I shall eventually let you breathe
When the ocean calms
And the rocks are nothing more than sand
When the fresh footing of another feels you between their fingers
When your castle walls are built in firmer moulds
When the moon pulls me away
When the magnetism of emulation no longer holds me within its anger

Maybe I will say sorry
Maybe nothing at all.
Just watch you
Watch you walk away.
The day I realise I will always love you;
It will be the reason I set you free.
I would like to note that this is not a biographical piece. However its themes are not fiction and came from a relationship I saw from a distance. The piece is linked to a poem I posted a few days ago called constant carpet burn, and tells the other side of this story.
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