I regularly ask myself what have I achieved in a year
and no thoughts come near
to the ones I should tell myself,
like where did my grace go?
how did I get here?
was that house right to rent?
wasted money that got spent on what?

Existence is tiring,
though it's all we've got and nothing more,
ideas yet to be printed, screenplays
yet to be tested,
theory's waiting to be put to the test and laid to rest in a textbook
in a classroom, in a school.

We'll end up in creases and creaks in
the chair at ten to 2 with misty eyes,
tired though they’ve seen shadows turn
to nights, streets to lamplight,
socks to feet at the bottom of bed sheets.

*I'm from red bricks and Hulme backstreet corners; Manchester born and Wakefield bound, stuck somewhere in between.

I fell in love with a sadness that poured
quietly down around me like
a cold, yet peaceful rain
It burned my aching wounds,
Reminded me of their existence,
Forced me to feel the sting of them
all over again
Like the eerie hum of a depressing song,
to hurry your tears when you're on the
verge of breaking
I felt clean and honest for the first
time since I got those scars
I was exposed and shaking,
Yet comfortable
So comfortable that I lied in pain
beneath the sky's cry for six years
Hardly living
I think I needed the rain to wash the
blood from my skin but once the crimson
trickled down through the
gutter, I should've risen
And for way too long I just... didn't
Now I'm too calm
It's too easy to be here;
Just waiting on the sunshine
Listening to the wrong songs
Face down in wet grass
I know that the world turns
I know that our lives change
That nothing stays the same
Well when does the storm break?
Cause I'm weak
And I'm exhausted
And I'm ready for a change
In this weather pattern
Yeah,
I'm ready for a change
*I'm ready to change