And yesterday still knocks me down.

Thread bare tendons snapping back and forth like a can to can phone line in a tug of war.
I’m trying to get through to you by tip toeing on this unsteady connection.
Put away your shuffling dancing feet so I can talk to you for a moment.
Why must you insist on existing past me;
Rain dancing to the drums of a forgotten chest beat.
Heart beating so fast and full that it nearly shattered my rib cage.
Your dance brought my tears and my tears brought the flood.
Yesterday’s wounds weren’t properly scabbed over though I’m on the mend.
You still look at the words “I love you”, distrustfully, holding them in your hands awkwardly like they would poison you if they broke or as if to ask “What am I to do with this?”.
If I had to write a manual to accompany them, it would read “Love me back”…
Learn to advance your sense of worry, anxiety is only rational because she’ll say goodbye soon.


How Heavy are your thoughts

How much do your thoughts weigh?
Do they have your head hanging chin to chest
or do they have you walking on clouds like your brains made of hot helium
Do they sink you when you swim
Or can we use your head as a flotation device
Does your neck strain to keep your head up
or are they so light that they can’t help but pull your lips up with them

Regrets are useless paper weights, keeping you from rising
When you look outside your dark black stain glass tinted eyes, you start to see
You spent so much time looking down that you thought the world was made out of shoes, feet and ground
Let go off your thoughts and watch them float off
Listen to the shouts turn into whispers
Let the negativity whimper
They say you have a stick up your ass, but you’re just thinking feather-light
When I ask you how heavy your thoughts are, you respond “Not heavy at all”

Writing Forever

I’m writing forever into my notebook,

using the letters of eterny;

crunching down on the keys of ever more,

I’m trying to picture it from shut eyes

but all I can see is a red blocked out version of daylight

This is not a smile, it’s a grimace,

I’m trying to hold the tears back

because I’m trying to illustrate forever from the fibre of my broken paint brush

But I can’t tame these hands,

Only if I could tame these hands

They wouldn’t shake every time the clock struck now

Only if I could stop ticking along to the second hand

but on second thought,

doesn’t the whole world revolve around second hand thoughts?

don’t we switch at a pendulum swing?

between the minute made smiles

and the hours you spend isolated underneath the islands of your eyelids

You could picture forever when you were alone but it felt so tedious

You could give its likeness to a police sketch artist

But all you’d eventually come up with is a blank page,

all negative space

because forever paints self portraits

And writes it’s own stories with us as supporting characters

While we’re too busy observing to live

We draw ourselves, drawing ourselves and call it life

Where do you hang yourself when the day strikes over?

All days spent on ruminating on failures and other sobering thoughts,
No more energy to fake normalcy
Just for emptying out the luggage that I carry with me,
But where do I hang it all when the day gives up?

They’ll hold your hunger against you and call it greed
When all they’ve ever fed you was the middle finger
They’ve armed you with an emergency number for when you need help
But they’re the ones who have burned down your farm just to sell you corn
So how low do you hang your head when the day loses form

Hope, you’re an eyesore
and I was so isolated
When I saw us
standing across each other in equal lengths like the sides of an isosceles
and what I wanted took shape in front me
but what fixture do I hang this light bulb from

You’re a half healed memory
Buried beneath a pendulous personality enamoured by it own purpose,
caught between pensive and laughing
Undecided even when you’re completely certain
So the pinky swears and cross my heart promises are useless
No matter how much you mean them when you make them
How can I hang on to your every word when I know they’re just lies (And if I did, I know that I’d be killing myself)

An thou shall have no others Gods before me
but the Gods in your head that you refer to as regrets
Keeping you up and feeding your insecurities like pets
Is that political propaganda disguised as religious literature
Trade your current situation for a little providence
Don’t mind the agnostics, they’re just convicts of common sense
Humpty Dumpty fell over while straddling the fence
So carefully choose which corner you want to hang your hat from

I want you to know this before the sunlight dresses the moon tonight
I know I’m too pretty to frown but weeds don’t need fertile soil to grow
So plant your seeds to feed the crows
Put pressure on the wound till the bleeding slows
While you stumble through my mind like a lame man walking on uneven snow
We’re so vain, trying to draw two parallels between beauty and worth
Trying to find evidence in our own existence by how many people stare
Whether they look down or up, it doesn’t matter cause they’re looking at us
When they see how much we shine, all they can do is hang their lips in disbelief.

Lastly, I didn’t mean to harm her
I’m a mistake farmer planting the future seeds of regret.
There must be a special hell for people like me
Who sever angel wings for fun and parade nephillim naked
But somewhere along the line, those bible pages became thinner than 1 ply toilet paper
I’m half man, half rusting scrap
I’d die but I don’t think that the void would take me back.
It’s funny how a person who was once your inbox, becomes your spam mail
but one man’s junk mail is another ones Russian bride
At least I know where to hang this noose when I get tired.


The Tunnel

It’s called time, the measuring scale standing between I will and I didn’t

And it’s all a matter of time till I convert promises into regrets

like a jet lagged traveller stuck between date lines and time zones;

I cant be sure that I left those moments behind like a hit and run with no witnesses

Is that why I try to forget more than I try to remember,

I can’t remember what I need to but I remember each moment I fall like I need to…

Time becomes a draw bridge slowly opening and thinning it’s planks into a sheet of paper

so thin that it’s transparent but this moment’s text will forever be recorded onto it

and folded to be tucked underneath my pillow as fodder for my nightmares,

even in my daydreams; my recollection is so vivid that I don’t call it remembering;

I call it time travel and I time travel so often there no longer is a now

just past moments that I’ve experienced much too late,

social cues that have reached their expiry dates.

I wish I could time travel back to the moments where the promises were still fresh

Not even now could pull me back from your smile

Where I am now get’s harder to reconcile

But I know there will be a place there for me to spend a while




The bloody edges of a jigsaw puzzle AKA Fuck this shit, Im going home.

I set my feet on mars to discover that it was empty..

This time, there is no healing that time can provide
No story that it can clearly articulate,
This time ,Time will stutter when it tells
Because in our lives things that shouldn’t speak have become our spokespeople and representatives
We gave mouths and wings to abstract ideas..
Here money talks and time flies
But we did not realize that money talks in riddles and white lies
But this time, you need not shy from bite but fight back
Because some of us take pride in well worn road while some abide by bypath
This is it, church of mouth where gullet clashes against pallet
to vibrate in mantras that stand themselves up as hymnals
Hear my heart erupt out in praise,
fighting out against its four walled cage

My tears ran down my face to muddy the red hot soil, clinging to my boots…

Every breath is an act of faith
Because I stand scattered
I fail to be seen, I fail to even matter
So I breathe in like every exhale would leave me shattered
When the positivity runs out long before your stomach succumbs to debt
While Staring at your blue lined paper plate and nothing but crumbs are left
And your feet cannot be summoned to step
Can you blame me for being a wallweed, unable to dance
Cant move the frozen gears, they’ll creek awake when the sunlight creeps away
They are shy
Nothing can overcome their desire to stay silent and hide
That’s why I feel like an outsider inside
I can no longer care when my efforts go ignored or when they are denied a reply..

Can I even move against the dust…

Why so soulless
Why is your face plastered with hopeless frown
You should really learn how to dance in something either than half steps and procrastination
Even if we look like hung corpses flapping in the wind while we’re doing it
We’ll epileptically seizure our way out of the pain
This dance will never ever be called unsure again.
If not we’ll just learn to die on command
We’ll learn how to die where we stand
Because 1 million coffins are clapping closed like a studio audience in applause
in the news and in movies our obituaries will all be written in closed caption
And overworked and underpaid, death will be caught gasping
but we’ll dance like this dance has all the answers
Rain dance till we flood the earth and drown ourselves

I set my feet on mars to discover that it was empty and I was happy.

Water marks

Plastic plant life ,
Signals no longer being sent on account of too tired neuro-molecular dendrites
You only feel human when you talk to a computer screen
To own and be owned – the modern consumer dream
Trying so hard to be important, to be weighed and compared
Ready to meet tomorrow? Beware, you’re unprepared
Sun starved, paper skin rejoices in the light
Blue veins become lines, margined between the scars
Human life is a satire to existence
A vain universe invented us to observe it
Too bad it made us in its own image, now we invent to be observed
Earth life marches along to the stars
Too much time spent in the night, makes it harder to discern the light from the dark
The machine is intoxicated on its own oil,
Finally coming face to face with its own thought
Gears spinning like propellers , it says –

Listen, I left water marks from the tears I’ve puddled and pooled
, dripping and seeping through the wool you’ve pulled over my eyes,
And when I die you can keep the stained furniture
After I’ve loosened up this noose like neck tie, keeping me afloat
I’ll hang myself by the 6th string of my guitar and vibrate to the note of E-ternity through its fretboard as I pendulum as part of the music and mechanism that moves the hands of time
The mechanism that some how keeps all alive
I need to die to prove that I once was alive
That I was once more than a drunk machine spitting out feathers.
Maybe I said something that resonated with you
and reminded you that you were more than a drunk machine spitting out feathers