I.

Eclectic birth rage

Lashing at the sun
For speaking too loudly

In those moments

When i find my fingers scraping ice from my eyelids.


Feelings are like lapsing arrows ;
Follow through, with warm blankets and a cup of tea.


Ii.

How
I walk, sundry, towards a bridge in the distance;

It’s hidden by fog, barley perceptible traces of an outline -

Some english village in the snow.

Climbing mountains on all fours.

cobblestones . broken glass in the doors of charity shops;  

I’m so gullible for stories where i live soley in the future.

It’s pathological; the relapse of tense,

Place yourself in the moment
Arden.

For the sake of your spirit.


III.

Apotheiosis is calling me ;
I can hear it talking in
Heaving sonorities.

Black bird dashed against the glass panes
Of my skull.
Crow lies battered on the pavement.


IV.

There is a rush of blood
From time to time, when i remember
The sudden outline

Of energy lived ecsatically;

All these, people - stuck in their tiny boxes,
Paying rent, content with survival mode
And quickly forgetting all the dreams they shared

With their younger selves


I used to
Dream
Of being a poet ; of being in love.

But now I buy food;
I pay rent,

I live to keep walls around me.


V.

I’m scared to break through the muted white
Of rented walls;

It makes me
Sick

To think i’m not chasing something better.