I found inside me an unbreakable pennance,

a sordid and sullied stuttering heartbeat,

and chose to find the beauty amongst the madness
adrift amongst the synapses of my mind.

We founded our lust on a smokey addiction
On an amity affliction
On the planes of the world we were yet to ponder

We based our feelings on a mutual agreement
A fleeting arrangement
Of live it don't feel it

We ripped our hearts from our sleeves
And left our clothes on the floor
And consummated a love that would never last

And as soon it left us
We lay stranded,
Tension averted
Replaced with anxiety crawling into our pores


Now we walk past eachother and smile innocently
Small talk and pleasantries
Pretend naively
That it was a one night thing

And that there isn't a hunger in our bellies
A thirst that needs quenching
I want you
But I don't know if you want me

I've found myself
Lying awake at nights
Looking for the stars

But my ceiling is off white
And the lighting isn't great in here.  
And the photos on the wall don't hide
The growing sense of unfamiliarity
Of the place I am now meant to call home

For a year.

There's a hole growing inside me.

I always knew it was there.
It was merely a dot but sometimes it consumed me
But for short periods only
And I found myself with a swollen belly
Unable to birth a growing sense of distaste twinned with despair
And the anxiety is driving me crazy.

Now
it's closer to a black hole

Over due and exhausting.

No man can fill it

No amount of own brand tea
Or *** noodles
Or substances can tame it.

I'm wondering if my wandering through the night
trying to get a quick fix
is getting me anywhere.

Because I search in the wrong places
And I don't look further than the brand of his jacket
Or the size of the baggie.

I keep looking to the sky
To provide me with some kind of guidance
Or a sign

But all I see are stars and pollution.
Dying nebulas
Or the energy saving lightbulbs
On the ceiling of my dorm room.

The pale morning will sing of our forgotten things,
Left in hostel rooms,
reservations made for 3.

We sat amongst the rooftops of Prague,
while the city reached for it's sky
and scraped the clouds
and strained it's structure,
built on top of itself,
overflowing with countless nameless people from it's brims.

And we sat amongst the rooftops.

Watching the sun change it's mood,
Watching as it tired from it's burning persistence,
Watching it paint the sky with it's own paradox,
Blue to pink to purple to dead.
The solar system above
reflecting the solar system of the city.
The way the warm nights allowed us to finally breathe.

And we sat amongst the rooftops.

Repairing the damage of the strain on our souls,
Too young to attempt to take on the world,
too old to walk the beaten hometown streets for yet another summer.

Starving,
exhilarated,
no cash in our pockets but feeling richer than queens.
We tracked the route on a torn map we stole and defaced from the school library,
on which we had planned our freedom,
running hand in hand from the chaos of our mundane
plotted out our new testiments, our own brand new stories,
our old lives could not see
or touch
or ruin this

for this was ours only.

And we sat amongst the rooftops.

Drowning in life.

And listened to this song.

Because nothing else would quite capture the moment as precisely
As an acoustic lions roar.

Alumni of 2015
Sit back and allow me to shed some light on life

Because while you were sitting in the back of lecture halls, I was sitting in the bow of a pipe getting a pHD in life.

Your existence has the potential to be nothing to the world.
we are but parasites,
The reality that pamphlets and professors ignore.

The whiplash of our adolescent enlightenment will hit us
and we too will be mere machines to corporate Britain
The tide of the premise you walked against in marches will soon be your every day mundane
9-5
Decent pay
Earn a wage
Live another day

But when we are old and lie in our death beds
Our last breaths will not be wasted on:
'Im so glad I paid off my student debt'
'Im so glad I got a masters in something I never used'
'Im so glad I got a job and married and had kids and a house in the suburbs'
'Im glad I was mediocre'

Our existence,
Minuscule as it may seem  
Will produce shock waves in the atmosphere of tomorrow and 20 years from now.
Our existence is a miracle in the sense that your genetics coded you perfectly,
doubting your own greatness is to refuse to pay homage to the mosaic of DNA that connects us to the earth we were born from.

Failure? Fear not .

We are the generation of **** ups, back wash of a dumbed down society,
Fed narcotic lies of fame and fortune.

Van Gough and Piccasso died vagabonds
Anne frank in torture
Cobain, Gandhi and MLK with a bullet
Hendrix with bile

The greatest die in the most foul ways
And this is how you must strive to end
I beg,
No
I implore you to seek the most outright yet not immediate destruction your perfect heartbeat can manage,
Only then will the  memories you bring to your deathbed be stories worth telling.

They will of course will be tainted by the impure things that you did *
No other experience will suffice
Filth and glory and gore and ***** and endless **** will be your legacy. Calling your side man for a ride home,
Travelling the world with your whole life stuffed messily in your back pack
The men and women who wrote sonnets in your skin with their eyes alone,
Getting a one way ticket to a place you have never been before and watch your gold skin become tinted orange in street lamp sunlight,
Couch surfing and trainhopping your way through consciousness

This will stand as your testimony of existence.

And you will pass on this following message,
Be it to the family and friends you have acquired,
Be it to the nurse who's not paid enough to listen to your ramblings,
Sing it to the grim reaper himself:

You will say:
'This is your enlightenment:

Stop trying to live

And learn to be alive'

I lost and found myself that day,
when the world came crashing down.
A time planned for happier endeavours.

It was as if my fate caught up to me like a fever on the coldest of nights and I was left stranded,
bobbing in a sea of uncertainty,
lost in a world familiar,
but unattached to any aesthetic.

My bed became a life boat,
and the floor was riddled with sharks and broken glass,
walls whispered me back to the the darkest corners of my mind and I tried to get out of bed I promise.  

The curtains were pulled on my ruin for days
and I lingered in the kind of sadness you feel you will never recover from.


Now
I sit in the earth
amongst the lungs of the world,  thinking of how we became degenerate beauty queens.
Constantly reverting back to how we moulded our antics from the atmosphere and dirt.
Recovering from watching you brim with adolescence in the city,
marvelling at the women we have become.

Because these are the good old times.

the lightness of living in a world revolving too near a black hole.

learning to live
again.

The one who taught me to love the hardest had an anchor for a heart herself.

It was as if the ghosts of the people she ceased to know ran riot on her skin in the form of bruises or scars or the in shadows under her eyes.

It was in those times, when she
couldn't keep her demons down, and we when greeted them again like old friends, that we learned to smile with everything left in our souls and pack overnight bags faster than her frantic heart beat.

And we learned to keep secrets, even when the world was quiet enough to hear the rivers running underneath the streets
as they were waiting with baited breath for explanations.

We all knew she meant well, if only she was well.

We kept more secrets than we had taken breaths and yet their burden didn't take hold until days or weeks afterwards and we could barely comprehend reality outside of our twisted youthful minds.

None of us dared to take a breath out of time,
Speak a word or a line out of line with the lies that we were taught to regurgitate from our fire bellies, perfect diamond fallacies,
Galaxies on our tongues.

And so we conclude with the honesty spilled onto pavements during the walk home, like the spirits I spilled on your blouse,
And recount the time I heard someone say that the most beautiful smiles were paired with the saddest eyes.

I see that now.