I am no word-smith I am the anvil Beaten with a hard And heated hammer Scolded by others’
From the tram to the train I’d sc… from shuttle to shuttle with only the speakers for company and then Sorry, can I just. I. Sorry
On the cold mornings Or days when washing hangs in my r… My window glazes and there are thr… I don’t clear them I wonder if the larger are mine, a…
Flickering uncertainly but still certainly flickering our candle dripped we had trays of wax time and trauma saw to that
Never judge a book by it’s cover? Want me to bow to your proverbial… Keep spitting your self satisfied… I’ll judge a book by it’s cover I’ll gaze at the wrinkled spine
Soaked pebbles and tip toeing pede… Train stations, cold bricks and co… standing in the platform Smiling at beauty sometimes smilin… I’d read Nietzsche and Kafka and…
Dulce et decorum est mori est Because at least that way it’s don… scattered ashes in the wind lodged in the soil, waving at worm… I couldn’t give a shit
I drink far less water than I sho… And usually when I do I am breaking for breath Or singing too hard Nothing is better though
The glint on your braces as the su… Them was not enough to make me fro… Gladly I’d sear my corneas to see… I didn’t even mind when my lips go… And when they did and they bled I…
In truth, There is no 'you’ You are but a lie, a clue You flatter yourself thinking, That my entire thought unceasing Is but on one individual,
The flower in your hair Was a bit worse for wear the petals that remained Looked rather drained. Even the stalk was crushed.
Time passes, And our each allocated space and s… relative to the rhythm of lives being lived alongside ours. Strength and sinews fade with sick…
I’m going nowhere but So what? I’m in no hurry But God I wish I was I push so hard for love
Seemed I danced To a short fuse And lit another And now it’s all gone Blown sky high
Its almost too cliché a broken heart shaped necklace shattered glass in the corner with a naked wire frame But I can imagine