i write from the 1st of october. i write from cold air and turning seasons. from hazy days and lazy days and 'maybe things will be okay's. i write from stale bread and cold tea cause id made it at half past three, and the wind is blowing.
and i want to wear my dads big old fairisle jumper because somehow, it always smells of him. and the wind is blowing.
i write from the 1st of october. i write from endless evenings and too many cigarettes and a craving for my mothers supermarket box wine. i write from tired eyes and floaty songs and i write because im feeling fine. and time is passing before my eyes and it makes me feel uneasy because these are the years i want to remember. the 1st of octobers and 6th of februraries and 27th of mays. and all the other days.
i write from the 1st of october. i write from awful poetry and laddered tights and dreams about boys that got lost in the city. in more ways than one.
i write from the 1st of october, and the wind is blowing.

once more unto the breach dear friends
of sharing all my words
i dont percieve it as means to an end
just a way for me to learn

i'll make waterfalls with  syllables
and streams with every line
and once you reach the end,
you'll be in an ocean thats all mine

you'll lap across my sandy shores
and wash up on my bay,
and when you think you're ready,
i will come to you and say

hello my friend, and how are you
i heard the news, now is it true?
i hope you'll have a lovely stay
on sandy shores upon my bay

impress your fellow flawed
dress your body's doors
lock them with the key
of innocence and pity
flee to the beginning
then run towards the end
make yourself a burden
be true, or false; pretend.
enforce a fake persona
imply the things you arent
dont offer any shoulders
you arent 'agony aunt'
be selfish and be brittle
remember to be blunt
dont hum or sing or whistle
*** u lol ur a ****

once there was a time
when you looked at me from far
our eyes would meet from across the room , and we both felt it.
i admired everything you showed me, said to me , told me;you inspired me.
you inspire me.
i would often want to touch you , not for lust , but to feel the heat from your body , the soft of your skin , just something to remind me that you are still human , like me,and her,and him.
i would wrap myself in the idea of you ,  become the things you liked, talk to you about things nobody else did. i wasn't falling in love with you , but it was similar.
you told me that you really cared about me , that you thought i was different, cool - the only person you made an effort with . it made me happy.
you made me happy.
it felt like the spirits in our bodies had  mixed, you were half of me and i was half of you. however this feeling was not romantic . i didnt want you to notice me , although i knew you did . i didnt want you to look at me and tell me that you think i'm beautiful, i knew you didnt . i didnt want to be your girlfriend , or hold your hand and flirt with you . this feeling was neither love, nor lust , and it didnt even feel like friendship . the only way i could try to describe it is merely a connection.

but it's gone now,
along with our stability.

things
         like


  the colour of your eyes


           the way you laugh
  

                    the music you like


                              the time you sleep
  




are very important
      to those


                        who fall in love with you

the trees that root in this sinful ground
are obvious and just
the churches in this run down town
are shelter for the lust;
the lust of greed , and lust of life
where a girl becomes a wife
these buildings are so holy,
yet full of nothing but evil
and still the trees are victims
to this bitter and great society
the lunatics call religion

i crave his body and his thoughts ,
the way he looks at me
i crave his kisses and his touch,
things that i value oh so much

and there are many miles between us
and many miles are so,
but there are trains and there's a bus
that take away my woe

to not see him is to be lone
upon this spinning ball
but he is what i want and need
when with him, i'm home

i kissed you in the sunlight
you held me in the rain
i talked to you at midnight
you said i was to blame
i hurt you in september
you cried and were in pain
i think you're getting better
you  should forget my name

i looked through my old poetry
and words began to sink
into my mind , the wall id built;
had obstructed what i think
it took me back to the place i was
some 3 or 4 months back
and now i wonder to myself
my way with words is black

i am the reverb
i am the plague
im the bad word ;
the misbehave
i am lust
and I am mud
and I am greed
and I am thud
i am the pain
and the knife
im not the mother;
im not the wife
i am the greed of the hungry
the need of distrust
god, you indulge me
resisting the lust
you are tall
And you are kind
but to me yet , you're not inclined
but I persevere , i carry on
like the verse into a song
what I want ,is your attention
what you give is not enough
i want you now., i want you gentle
i want you now, i want your lust

I found myself once again
In amidst the autumn leaves
The crunching and the early starts
The scars on muddy knees

The daylight lasted longer
In the sleeping summer sun
But September bought me hunger;
Fatigue , hunger and fun.

New starts are just perceptions
Of things you had before
Looked at in a new way
Something less ( or more)

oh holden,
you  despise the  phony things
oh holden,
your demise is challenging
oh holden,
you appear selfish, but you know you're not
oh holden,
you prevent others from the rot
oh holden,
the bitter rot you know too well
oh holden,
the rot you always felt
oh holden,
how i hope you're fine
oh holden,
the catcher in the rye

oh how the strings of the willow leaves
dangle , delicately from the strong and majestic branches
oh,how the beauty of willow trees
is soaked up in the array of quick glances
the glances, made by a stranger
when perhaps keeping children from danger
or perhaps in a dream, when sleeping
why is the willow still weeping?

the bright side
of the moon
is something seen quite rarely
the bright side
of the moon
is percieved as never scary
but let me tell you, dearest foe,
brightness is riddled with woe
happiness is just a myth
and being sane just lasts a blip
when you're stuck inside a mind
where all your thoughts are crude; unkind
wanting to escape this pit
isn't frequent, never a hit
i like being here;
the dark side of the moon
( in fact i'm in my house, trapped in my room )

I'm smitten
I'm in love
Track listings written
Hounds of love

.

~~~~psychedelic mania ~~~~

Bless me with the bullet
Please me with the knife
Charm me with the tablets
I want you to end my life
Drown me in the ocean
Take me out to sea
Save me from my beating corpse
Let my soul be free
Burn in me in the fires
Melt me in the flames
Erase me from your memory
Ever forget my name
Lock me in the cellar
Don't let me escape
Til I'm weak and thin
And my pulse no longer shakes
I want you to send me six feet under
**** me in the rain and thunder
I am mentally unwell
And I think living life is hell

Bless me with the bullet
Please me with the knife
Charm me with the tablets
I want you to end my life
Drown me in the ocean
Take me out to sea
Save me from my beating corpse
Let my soul be free
Burn in me in the fires
Melt me in the flames
Erase me from your memory
Ever forget my name
Lock me in the cellar
Don't let me escape
Til I'm weak and thin
And my pulse no longer shakes
I want you to send me six feet under
**** me in the rain and thunder
I am mentally unwell
And I think living life is hell

Watch me
But don't look at me
Talk to me
But don't speak to me
Touch me
But don't feel me

I desire to be noticed
And I want to be seen
Yet I'm frightened of social interaction
And beckoning from behind the screen

I'm a bit content
A bit
I'm a bit happy
A bit
I'm not overjoyed
I'm not beaming
But I'm a bit content
A bit

Never have I ever
Resisted a relapse
As much as I am
Right now

I would rather have my heart broken
A thousand times over
Than be the one
Breaking the heart

I really hate my body
It's actually grotesque
Why can't I be skinny?
And smaller like the rest
I really hate my body
It's big and tall and fat
I wish I was pretty
And had hair that was more flat
I really hate my body
Nobody will love me
How on earth could they
When I'm this ******* ugly?

Again
They unite
Joining forces
As if some kind of army
I am expected to partake
In this family unity
But I feel too intellectually superior
To converse with them
And their simple minds

i was going to write a poem about you
but i decided
you're not worth it

**** me slowly
take my breath
make me unholy
cause my death
delve into my lungs
let me choke
between my finger and thumb
i inhale the smoke
make my thoughts
a dullened cloud
make my parents
be unproud
fill my brain
and make me sick
but let it rain
and make it quick

little marks little marks little marks
memoirs of before
broken hearts broken hearts broken hearts
feelings ; shred and tore

he has
blue eyes
and fluffy hair
and stands stiff
in the town square

he gives money to buskers
and smiles at people who pass
he buys me coffee
and looks into my eyes to see my past
he knows what i am
and he knows what ive done
but he said that i
am his only one

i am interested in people
of a certain type
not the sorts of people
with t-shirts that say 'hype'
not the sort of people
who only think about themselves,
no,
i like the types of people
searching the bookshelves

here i am again
hopelessly alone
sitting nervously
waiting by the phone
nobody will ring
and nobody will know
because i haven't said a thing
about that place i often go
it's very, very dark there
and there isn't any light
usually i get there
3.23 at night
for this is the time
when the monsters come back out
for this is the place
where the numbing is of now
i'm stuck here in this pit
and there is no escape
oh, how i wish
i will never wake

the friendships i had
a month ago
have perished
to the backs of our minds
yet i do not feel glum
and i am ebullient towards the beckoning future
that so many others anxiously fear
i am incredibly lucky
to have someone
like you
and without you
i dont think
i would be
     ......

you told me
you would love me
in the dawn
in the dusk
in the twilight
and i believe you

pondering against
the complexity
of depression
and boredom
and wisdom
is something
i like to spend my wasted time
doing

i am a hypocrite
but who is not?
irony irony irony
i can't wait to rot

sometimes
things can happen
and the things that happen
make you smile
but often
these things that happen
are things that make you
regret them
after a while

please dont ask me
to be yours
please dont call me
beautiful
please dont look at me
in that way
please dont say
you brighten my day
i like you lots,
really, i do
but i dont know what
i want from you

she liked it
when they looked at her
she didnt feel as though they were noticing her flaws
as many others do
she gave herself to them
innocently, devilishly;
a promiscuous shadow of her sober self

if i had been alone
when sat upon the swing
would you have come and talked?
about so many things?
you play that **** guitar
and sing those ****** songs
yet still you seem so far
and i am always wrong
you give an odd impression;
you're complex but black and white
the happiest depression
the daytime of the night
yet the girl who holds your heart
is small and tanned and right
you know i love your art
i hope you know i write
i wish you all the best
you idiotic prince
maybe i'll see you next
quivering on the sink

you were sheltered in your ways
and looked at me intently
you were kind and you were cute
and treated me so gently
you held me in your arms
and showed obvious respect
you kept me safe from harm
and lightly kissed my neck
i was yours for a short while
in return, you mine
to you i was not a child
and you gave me all your time
thankyou for making me smile again
you really cheered me up
this time i'll try to smile, and when
you want, i'll pucker up

ive decided you are common
and rather up yourself
so dont feel the need to talk to me
i'll see you down in hell

you are very strange
and not in a good manner
id like to see you change
and be a little thinner

you are not very clever
you're clumbsy with your words
'you wont get into heaven
if you're head's stuck in the world'

for these words do repulse you
and obviously , no
you are not hating truth
just dont know where to go

you like to think you're different
and peculiar in ways
that make you seem sufficient
and clever on some days
but darling you are normal
you dont have a broken heart
you just like to be informal
and wait for life to start

once there was a girl
who thought an awful lot
once there was a way
to be the things you're not
twice there was a time
the night stood still
the clock , it didnt chime
and all the while, she chilled

i feel a raging fire
inside my bitter soul
i feel a burning desire
inside this hollow hole

what i want and crave
is not what i possess
yet still i do behave
in a manner of address
to those i detest
and make myself feel blessed


people in the sky
going somewhere new
they will never know
who  i am
or why i'm blue

they fly further away
each with their own problems
individual mistakes
the then the plane hits the breaks
and they fall
descending to the earth
what some of them deserve

the things you said
at 1am
were the things i kept
at the times when
i desired to die
and i conspired to cry
and i wanted to be thin
and i cut my skin

the times you looked
into my eyes
were the times i kept
when i saw the lies

the times you whispered
and made me smile
were what i remembered
when i needed to hide*
                        
                                          then came the times
                                          where you were unkind
                                          and i did not keep those
                                         for they kept mine

still the words
do pierce my soul
and make me feel
unbeautiful

still the looks
do come my way
and make me feel
that i shouldn't stay

'why don't you come?'
the people ask
' we will have fun,
we'll have a laugh'
if only they knew
the reason why
sometimes people
will make me cry