My love! How sweet, how prosperous!
        He lives within my heart~!
Nurtures, Oh, He cherishes –
        Oh, never shall we part!

Though I may beauty and elegance lack,
        My heart strung with sorrow’s strings,
My love, His soul does sing for me –
        In perfect melody~!

And I do love, with all my heart,
        With fiber, mind, and soul,
My perfect man, Oh, man of dreams –
        My sweetest dreams unfold.

His flaws are seamless, seams are flawless –
        Imperfections perfect –
My darkness His light, His bright my sun –
        My blight, His love confesses none –

All this, except for only one.
        A single state which rattles my commitment,
A flaw which overlooking may not come.
        Bastardly, it prevents my love’s fulfilment.

Though He should love me in all my ignorance –
        My shame, and clumsy arrogance –
That I should question Him is deplorable –
        Yet, Oh, this flaw, it’s un-ignorable!

For He is a dream, Oh, not to be!
        In my mind it’s Him I see, but –
Among the living, out in the world,
        He does not exist but in my words.

What sorrow indeed, sweet imaginings bring!
        His rose-petal scent – His eyes blue and green –
His mystical magical magnificence –
        A figment of my imagination.

In what cruel world do I live where no one accepts?
        His love so extensive, mine potent, and yet –
Because He is fake, in only my mind,
        My love is doomed, empty, lonely, and blind?
My love feels so real; I weep and I laugh,
        My emotions run rampant for Him, and still yet –
Is it not real? Only a lie?
        A lie which is felt – but still not alive?

My love, it is real, but fake just alike.

Today, today it is always today.
Never leaving my side nor allowing
my lids to rest their tension.
To hide from the always now,
the unrequited  thoughts.
Beliefs I never knew I had.
Within the seasons of the self,
standing in the shadow of my mind.

Away, away, please do not stay.
Give me tomorrow or yesterday,
Images and dreams of greater or new.
Visions of joy, structures of wax.
To follow the mind of the season.
Give me fact-free fantasy's
folly and fancies.

But:
today,today it's always today!
Always here to keep tomorrow away.

There's something swimming down there.
Unseen, subcutaneous under layer and layer.
Malice in that silence,
venom in that stare.
laying in wait, to strike, break,split tear.

Peace as a siloullusion of the swelling act.
Waiting on reality's organic nascent,
unresolved affair.

Whatever it is that swims waiting for a chance,
in your terror askance.
Will soon break on out, too real for fiction:
to swallow you whole in it's gruesome glory.

What if my sight deludes my brain
And shows me things that cannot be?
What if my brain deludes my sight
With shapes and colours distorting light?
What if a chair is not a chair,
A sky not a sky?
What if my body belongs
Outside of time, in ridges, in riffs, in kaleidoscopes,
Pinging around or forever mute?
What if I die, but am not dead,
Having never been alive
That what was breathe was CGI
That what was a heartbeat merely
A mythological god slamming against a drum?
What if my words are not my words
But belong to speakers in the past
My thoughts not mine, nor yours,
But passing adverts in the electrified air?
What if existence is without shape,
Unseeable, unmeasurable,
A perishable vapour already dissipating
Unable to form and never formable?
What if none of these words were written
None of these words were read,
Nothing appeared here-
Nothing has happened, or ever does,
Except in your unquiet head?

I want to melt a wax Viking,
with a piece of sword shaped kindling.
Watch the face drip, sag run into a
droopy frown of fluid features.

To saw the head from a celebrity mannequin.
Watch fall it to the floor,
with it's perfect teeth and face;
plastic smooth skin.
Almost as plastic and smooth as the “real” thing.

To tear the words from the mouth
of a liar, cheat, chancer and con-man.
Rearrange the words to spell out the truth.
watch the eyes and puffy face spasm,
as if possessed by a phantasm.

there is this pithless entity

circling round my gut

waxing and waning

folding in infinite measures

like stiff cloth finding creases

that fit



and I caress this part

inside which has no fold

or definite pattern



but there is this power

and it increases as the light

of lesser days burn into night



brightly devouring

all lesser fabrications

willing them to speak

in hushed whispers

bathed by blackness



completely surrounded am I

a vagrant soul departed

yearning for this star of gasses

to not combust but

slowly awaken



and you spark that within me

heavy and unaware

a messy cloth of vibrance

washed and wrung and folded gently

with shaking hands and thumping breath



the atmosphere surrounding

all that is real



enveloping my body as it speaks

of glorious wonders

operating deep

within the cosmos



where air is sealed tight

like a vacuum and



I can't help but breathe in

even though

I know

I'll suffocate

I awoke each morning, without warning
They came from the front door,
And at night the candles were barely well lit,
They were silent and yet I couldn't
Ignore, this is...what is this?
A vile voice and angry specter
Filling my night with gloom,
Now all that was left, my empty space,
For horrors I would brace ,
I couldn't get them out of my face.
This each night they came again,
Banging cupboards while I slept,
Spinning sofas, shooting rubber bands.
They kept invading my dreams,
Upon my shoulder I saw a hand,
A reflection in a portrait of skulls,
A face of an old graying man...*
All of this and more. All of this sent me off my rocker,
I lost my nerve but couldn't settle the score,
I had no idea what they wanted. I was scared
Within inches of my life they were everywhere,
Like the scattering tiny feet of mice.
And a small little puppet twists his face up
Upon my bed, then a native over the same area
With Tomahawk ready, swinging over his head,
Huge spiders appeared upon the ceiling overhead,
And still I was somehow not aware at that,
But they drove me over the edge.
Her feet in the air while lying on the sofa, long hair,
A glaze in her eyes, hate behind the dark disguise,
It's sad to say I had no idea what I'd seen back then,
But it kept going on and on and on.
Close they always followed, they wouldn't let me be,
But I tell you for once a real haunting thing or three,
All I really know is they just wouldn't let me be free...
No matter what I know, no matter what I dream,
Every now and then something moves to scare me.
I know that it's weird and can't find proof or come close,
But all through the years it appears it was a "Gray Winged Ghost."

My body refuses to breathe,
I heard her words but they won't register
Instead I am left here without air.
I'm so sorry
No, this isn't real
My vision is turning black.
I know how much she meant to you
Why won't I breathe?
This is wrong.
But everyone has to leave at some point
I feel wrong
The funeral is tomorrow
She's gone.

Butane*

I swallowed knives,
coughed up blood,
your un-inked mistakes
entered my body
and you didn't feel
like love anymore,
you were mind-numbing,
a flame guzzler,
itching for someone
to love you
no matter how
fake you were.