Thursday, 21 January 2016


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

Tuesday, 12 January 2016


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.