same-person

Noble baby, Of my rightest hand. Born into this world, And what can I tell you? From the first instant you open your eyes, You're so beautiful. You will always be The apple of my eye. You could Spend all my money, Sell all my furniture, Burn my house to the ground, Kill my cat, Kill my dog, and crash my car. And as long as you were safe, We could find a better situation Somewhere Together. But you can never see it. You come to me, With your self-conscious jumpers, Unload them onto my washing pile, And I clean away the stains. You've never once believed what I tell you, That your life is glorious. That you're beautif

Soft, sloping cursive, Certain as a trademark. Contained within: A neat, starched letter With it's neat, starched content. Always such a way with words. I can see it now; The gentle dandelion clock Flexing on the slim, porcelain forearm And your pen, Sweeping across formal curves. The tug of an inside reference Deliberately inserted To woo and impress. Fingers subconsciously trace lips For the feathery kisses Long since evaporated. My Cinnamon Butterfly. You flew so high. Creating such heartache Before disappearing At the first sign of rain. So rare to find With such a short life expectancy. Dissolving b

Stuck for what to say. Absolutely nothing. My mind is a blank canvas, a literal expression of nothingness, or as much of nothing as there can be. So I think, and I dream. If only you could see the images I see. Such beauty in three tiny stars, comforting me as I stagger my way home from another night of hoping. Everyone else. The whole world, it seems. Order and precision in lives seemingly untouched by my hand as much as I imagine the stretch of my influence. I do and say. Follow as obedient as one of man's best friends. Work each command until I can dot the 't's and cross the 'i's, remembering every conversation like a duologu

The kind of day with no time of day. The skies are low and fruitless; without weather; without ripening, softening arches. Indifference, sticky and intolerable, leeching the skin in a dry sweat not even the most arid of people escape. Still. The tiniest finger, adorned, daren't reach to the heavens, the mother trunk confined. Algorithms. And it only takes one tempestuous break before everything snaps. Wild and raging the sun bursts forth, knives slicing the ground, flaring the brightest spectrum you've never seen. Flowers dance, limbs tearing, bodies trembling. Webs fly, conveying their Creators for miles as They cling to their life, thei

It's difficult, you know, Especially in those as young as me. We're not told, Of IT. "Only in fairytales". Handsome Princes, Glowing Deities, That fateful step on A thorn, A needle, A rose. "Destiny". A parasite.   Abstinence is the key, To a healthy heartbeat, To a wholesome soul. But then, We're complete with it. It fills us, Drowns us, Every song plays, us in mind, Every dance, poem, painting, Every taste, smell, touch, hold. The crime of association. With something that brings us such joy, Such unbounded, saccharine, Delight, Bliss, Elation, Some aren't worth as much, As others? Some, The quantity t

glue. Our secret place, not quite the woods, not quite the desert either. Our childish fervour, beyond exaggeration, bordering on infatuation (and all the other "-ion"'s anyone could have ever hope for). Dreaming of love, of loss, of feelings we comprehended, but didn't scrape the surface of, floating, falling, laughing, sobbing, bodies distended, bloated. We alighted on the border of innocence, feet light with cherub feathers, rosy cheeks, dreamed of 'never-never'. And without preposition, suggestion, even a caution slipped through our chubby, clutching fists, babes in a crib. We stumbled across the unfolding threshold, enve

Stroking the rim of the wine glass, over, over, over. Concentric circles, so satisfying and smooth, gather on my fingertip. I pick them up, gathering my breath, and blow, and they wilt, like feathering smoke rings, into the couch. I'm waiting, my dearest, fiddling Nero. I'm waiting on the marble chair with my Trojan horse seeded in my heart. The stitches never healed right, and I'm afraid the scar will have to last. As binding as a child, you're now a part of me, and I daren't let that go. I rest the wine glass on the transparent table, leaving it to levitate whilst I check the door for the thirtieth time. No, the thirty-first time. I hav

hexagrams. so many sides, a soliloquy of pattern. what's come is to stay, and what's lost is forever, because i don't know you anymore. like a tumble of matches in pick up sticks, you manipulative son of a bitch. why is being your plaything such a pliable possibility? i'm not a vagabond, your little rag doll. i swell up with black eyes and split lips and broken bones and twisted skin and cuts where the whip has hit too hard and welts where you didn't care to help me. i am perfection, i am the least of your worries. because your in the burning fat now. the police are coming, you can stop crying for me, tape recorder in hand like an answer pho

spires are crookedly brushing the pregnant snow clouds, gentle hands pressing against the kicking feet of the impatient free-fallers. flakes circle targets; a woman's styled hair, prim starched shirt collars, the icing freckling dark substances like ethereal dandruff. the city lies, asleep without the fear of a new-born sun glinting against the boundaries of a fresh day, the frozen drops of morning dew still against the grass. it waves like feathered hair, the crisping tips decaying a molten brown without the care of green-fingers to aid in the process. open stone, withered, old and putrid, embraces the dusting of snow like lead face powder

an old man. wrinkled, calloused. peeling. in a shaded, musty suit. not decaying. not brand new. eyes that endlessly stare, their lids suspended. open, bleeding white. staining cataracts. agape in shock, lips, jaws and cheeks alike. the bond, it broke. he caresses her cheek, gently, sweetly. lover to lover, sarcasm playing about his jesting eyes. smirking malevolence. she chokes. andsoshechokes-cho-she-kes-staringchokingchokingchoking