Friday, 7 October 2016


Hi, my hands are cold
Your trophy of my smile
May never touch my pupils
I shine the crystals on my
Chandelier with your heartbreak.
Hi, I almost needed you
A man of twisted valor
A mammoth heart of icicles
To need me desperately.

Then the sun came out.

And we were expected to
Look like we just found love
And pose for the cameras
And other cringe worthy things

My castle is melting.

Hi, darling, you are mistaken.
You wish I were your princess
You dream of an invincible sun
You dream of the British empire
Hi,I want to rebuild my home
I want to change you forever
Now will thaw out your ice
And lather my dripping walls.

You are now human
Congratulations.
And I?
I am Ice queen.

Saturday, 13 February 2016

V day whateva

You cripple my fingers
The minute I pick up my pen
Determined that today, today
I will fuckin write that
Masterpiece
Worthy of you

Your voice, your presence, your irrationality.
You're a fuckin artist.

The art that is your voice
A cure for finer ailments.
The art that is your presence
A cellar for my finest wines.
The art that is your irrationality
A spanking that I crave unawares.

You're a fuckin artist with your beautiful brain and excitable tongue and the days you fuckin said you hated me but adored me and I said I hated you but fuckin adored you. 

No eloquence will do, all those
Timeless pretentious verses
Those songs we were taught to believe in
Those fuckin declarations
Of undying love with fuckin
Dying flowers - yeah, none of that will do.

Only a terrible poem
Positively ghastly poem
I will offer You
Just a gesture to say
I fuckin love you.

Thursday, 21 January 2016

Cruel

I wish you were
The stupid milk toothed child
That played knots n crosses
On the last page of an innocent notebook.
I wish you wore
The morals of a superhero
That we all adored in days
Of simple troubles and nights of psychedelic sleep.
I wish you laughed
With me at our common enemies
That made me cry or made you
Cry and we gently  promised
We would rip their guts.
I wish you didn't mean it
With your eyes and your veins
And a twisted lip
That you hate me so purely
Murderous, venomous
Torturous
Hate.

Tuesday, 12 January 2016

Awaiting

growing old
My hair cries
Bountiful like salty waterfalls
With dark strands of incoherent fears.

growing old
My voice lies
Charred like a forgotten roast
With copious amounts of mediocrity

growing old
My heart flies
Blown away like crescent sand dunes
With the parchedness of old dreams

I just feel a little sad tonight
The fires have died and there are things
We haven't crossed out from our to-do list.