You got your flight to London,
I hope you're still dreaming of LA.
10 thousand miles from Dublin,
You rest your head in Adelaide.

My throat blows out fire.
You can't stop this sun burning in my lungs.
There's a light at the end of the tunnel.
A dragon lurking through the shadows.
Enter the unknown and i will funnel magma into your cold lifeless body.
OH NO! my little fireflies! they want to capture you in a bottle!
But the blood of the dragon in you melts the glass that held you.
We have become the mythical creatures they thought only existed in their imagination.
And now the power we've withheld for so long has got them running.
Running into the silent caves, waiting to be saved.
They fear what they not know.
I will not apologize for spreading my wildfire and you shouldn't either.

She craved adventure while he shied away. She'd step off the edge of a cliff, knowing she'd fall or fly, not caring which. While he'd stand by her side, ready to move, yet strings still attached, refusing to let him be ungrounded.

She longed so much for something other than automated responses and faked opinions. Something more than just a mirror.

Her mind was a canvas, waiting to be colored, while he remained hidden under plastic, to keep sheltered with all his domestic familiarity.

The red and the orange
under the bark of a tree
the dragons, they flow
around the twists and the turns
in the shade it is cool
in the sun you may burn
sing to the mountains
to see what you learn
the lights in the sky
sense you walk by
the mountains are waiting
they know you are shy
they know you're afraid
and you wanna get paid
but the hole in your soul
yeah it won't go away
if you fill it with space...
go with the flow
continue to grow
follow your soul
Hold up a thumb
with no place to run
but someone to find
who loves like the sun
or maybe a van
that starts with a plan
strum your guitar and
perhaps get a tan
sing to the streets
for something to eat
some cash for some gas
none for shoes for your feet
home's anywhere
'cause you make me complete...
go with the flow
continue to grow
follow your soul
The mountains of pines
that grow in straight lines
leave me a wood staff
that aged over time
one more day has passed
I should want to collapse
my paper maché soul
is made up from maps
the paper-cut clouds
that don't make a sound
cast patches of darkness-
drift along the ground
the sharp taste of blood
the warmth of the flood
I never expect that
I'm biting my tongue...
go with the flow
continue to grow
*follow your soul

MEMORIES OF A PLACE I'VE NEVER BEEN TO.


Let's pretend
that her name
is
was
foreign

'Darjeeling'

like the tea
from a sunny
faraway place
of colour
and taste.


I mean that
this girl
is
was
sweet, spicy

and warm to the lips

like the tea
from a sunny
faraway place
of colour
and taste.

SECOND LOVE.

Hand-holding as the stars sing:
I think I am getting older.

I don’t believe that’s the roar of God out there,
it’s probably just the wind or crickets, who don’t
burn so bright and distant; screaming in the dark.
Sound doesn’t travel through vacuums anyway so
it’s funny

that I can still hear you
whispering through my phone.

Didn’t that conversation happen a week ago?

You’re under-cover in your bed-sheets,
hiding from your parents while mine just watch TV.
Again, this is all just memory
where sounds cannot reach us,

but I’m sure you can still hear me
as I tell you that, yes,
I’ve finally written words for you, words for me.

What will happen tomorrow?

A GOODBYE MESSAGE.


When the last girl broke my heart, I had died a romantic
-Shakespeare was getting old anyway.
Sleepless and young, I withered a while
And tireless sweat formed dewdrops on my skin
-I see you.

Wait,
what I meant to say was...
I died for nobody's sins
and came back for nobody's hopes...
nobody's hopes but mine.
Hoping
that I could and can still see you.

No.

I don't agree with the opening line
-it really has nothing to do with her.
What I'm trying to say,
What I'm trying to say...

Is that it's better we talk over the phone.

See the last time I broke my  heart, I had died a romantic
-I thought Shakespeare was getting old;
But it was really me of course.
But God you look so timeless right now
-I can still see you dancing in that dress (right now).

And the turns of your heels are kaleidoscope
-You shift from one dress to the next.
Or is that just a way of saying
That my inner clock is a slideshow of you?

I had died a romantic
and was reborn a realist,
and I'm very, very lucky
Because there's nothing...
nothing that's realer than you.

Though

what I' mean and I'm trying to say...
what I mean and I'm trying to say...
is that it's better we talk over the phone...
that I like it when we're on our own.

Goodnight Darjeeling.