Damaged the same

Leave those words where they land.
Bury them in time and walk across the snow.
The stretched out ghost that hangs in the air.
In our lungs.
All fog and white, fading into a nothing.
How precious was that moment?
When the blood began to shed.
And the tears you bled, from another wound.
We come in pieces, all broken and jumbled.
Your religion tells us we are perfect, but still must change.
We are damaged the same.
Scuffed knees and dormant psychoses.
Jesus in a black bag.
Satan in a veil.
We are tripping over the rug of this world.
Spilling tea on the soul of saints.
Watching the cracks creak a little wider.
Filling the voids with gold.
But not lost souls, just painfully aware we are human.
Trying to return to paradise.
Following maps that are written in tears.

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RED #4: A methemoglobin state of prayer

A half-light silently wanders into sight.
It’s the beating throb of the world.
Now masked in shadows which crept out of us while we slept.
When the ghosts departed.
A dying embrace of an old lover.
The bottled words of a mother who told us to keep out of the road.
While we played, with such abandon, in the town.
On the steps of a church whose windows we’d smashed.
This lumbering giant of trouble, draws our blood.
While we stretch out our hands now in prayer.
To a god no longer there.
All in the shadows of broken mosques and beloved vampires.
Which we willingly idolize.
These empty hands reach for a comfort.
Waking up in pain.
Bruised and bloodied like knees of school kids.
Us in our youth, climbing the tree that hung over the stream.
Dripping the merlot drops into that crystal clear water.
Blurring our own reflections.

Red #3: Red like my heart

If I cut myself, will I find you?
Red, like my blood.
Swimming in ecstasy.
When the darkness prevails, you abandon us.
Leaving me alone with such lonely beats.
Of a heart struggling.
Like a clock unwinding.
You think this heart naïve?
It knows, but is unready to act like you wish.
To thump and rise, as you bang then blame.
Or tell it to stop completely.
Naivety makes way for inability.
Of acting against this sabotage.
Yet you are beyond such human fragility.
If I cut you, do you even bleed?
Would you leak a love all over me?
Flooding this space with such sweet honey.
Or should I let you fly.
And find you only in those heartbeats.
That synthesise a disappearing.
A pattern of a death so complete.
That it stains the world forever.
And heard across your universe.

Some kind of stranger

There were stories of course.
Bad childhoods and frequent trauma.
Violence was like the rain, blown in like a storm.
But she did not live in the past too much.
Her story was colliding forever into tomorrow.
Wiping off the fever that electrified each night.
She had been beaten and adorned.
Wrapped both pearls and handcuffs around her arms.
Flesh was to be devoured.
Ghastly and exciting, making a mess in her soul.
She wiped away the blood drool.
What lay between her lips, her soul, her hips.
Was given by her own decision.
A consensual barging, for being alive.
For being a creature so prone to movement.
The survival of the imagination.
Her look that cuts the room.
The heart pierced by gloom.
Made her a provocateur for a classless age.
You would smell her on your sheets.
Crave the wet drip that smouldered still on your tongue.
But she would be gone.
Side stepping a fall from a grace she named herself.
Wearing her own crown, made of tinfoil and treasure.
But it will not always be that way.
The legs that part make way for opportunity.
Which always finds its mark, if ready or awash with indecision.
She was the girl that left too soon.
She was the guy who bought the moon.
And sold stars instead.
He is not one to remember fondly, his past indiscretions.
But shame had no place in his beautiful heart.
And his story starts, not with a departure.
But a glorious homecoming.

Violent Psalms

Hallelujah.
The stars inhaled.
A waking darkness crashes into these eyes.
I hear the havoc in this hymn.
And see the shapeless violence crawl forth.
Please, swear now to god and offer forgiveness.
Excuse the trauma that rages out of heaven.
It rained down like this before.
I saw London swallow whole the eternal demise.
It never exhaled this life, this evening, this being.
God left beauty for the angels.
The ugliness of change clings to his fingertips.
Such violence.
But sit, crouch, cry out into the nothingness that now stretches endlessly.
And pull apart that blackened struggling heart.
Which heaves with knowledge and remembering.
Then wash it out with diamonds and blood from those who cared.
Smile towards heaven and forgive those there.
Redemption bears down on all.
Then cry out black tears which curdle in the air.
While the world wipes clean and shudders into tomorrow.

Lacerate

The sound of war orchestrally sings.
A symphony that echoes.
You clench your fist, and raise you wings.
The madman in you bellows.
And to that door, my eyes now move.
All exits, in thought retreating.
To leave you be, consuming me.
Your sacrifice now fleeting.
For every time you raise your voice.
And swear and shake anew.
I cannot see, or understand that choice.
In biting the hand that feeds you.

Blood is thicker

The red lights blur inside my skin.
Casting reflection on the mood I’m in.
A soured feeling of discontent.
The angry ebb of self-descent.
Yet neon blood flows inside my veins.
A pumping pressure which starts to gain.
That travels north from my deep south.
And splatters the truth from out my mouth.
Though shock is not my best intention.
Or to hurt, out this invention.
But to state boldly and from love.
That the only thing we share is blood.

Lifting

Vanishing points appeared on the ceiling.
Little holes in my veins.
These little deer that course through the bloodstream.
Looking for the forest from the trees.
You force me to close my eyes to a world so hung in regret.
Precarious, like a spun sugared spider web.
Catching daydreams and ideas of escape.
That lifting.
Yet submerged in a dream where the walls crumble like chalk.
A hallucinatory step into monumental design.
Copying my name into the book of the dead.
That book that I read, where fate can be altered.
And we can change the path of time.
Which now forever ticks in my head, as I swallow each new morning.
Choking on the aftertaste of yesterday.
Lifting into a dream.

Pieces

Pieces float in the blood.
A crimson river, drawing up to space.
Flowers smashed into oblivion.
Only to remain. As particles of dust.
Floating inside you.
Dusting your eyelids and tainting your tongue.
Lilies and lilacs lifting into a dream.
Lifting in the pulse and throb of the heart.
Blooming in particles while they orbit your organ.
That heaves and struggles to understand.
The demise of such beauty.

Desert eyes

To walk the sands of time, to find the doorway to heaven.
Leaves me breathless.
You put your hands on this skin, and I succumb.
Unabated astral movements behind my eyes.
To know you from somewhere, is to feel you under my skin.
As my blood crashes down the sand dunes on the walls of my heart.
I left you, and found you there.
Waiting for me where the moon sinks and threatens never to return.
With honey wine still on your kiss, I will not function.
I slip into another consciousness.
Walking in a dream that quivers on god’s fingers.
Kiss me from dying, and wake me once more.
Let me disappear into your arms that comfort me like a blanket against desert cold.
And I will wash these tears away in the pools of your eyes.
That offer such sweet safety swims, to the desert floor.

Drive

You wanted to make me believe in love.
Taking my hand and leading me down the highway.
Past the car crashes of former entanglements.
The scars ever present on my mind.
The road stretches ahead, but I’m caught in the pull.
Of trying to glimpse at the dead.
You’re trying to make me believe again.
Showing me peace on the horizon.
But my palm is sweaty, and the fuel is empty.
I wonder if we’ll make it.
But I push my foot onto yours.
And I climb inside your soul.
The pedal pushes and we fly, deep into the night.
Down the road of good intentions.

Vermilion

In the struggles of my bones.
Sweet blood running free. Down to the edge of the world.
You didn’t ask me what I thought.
Which is why you left me there.
Predisposed to hope. As the world tipped over.
The oceans emptied into my soul, and I began to float.
Pulled by the moon in a turmoil tide.
The blood lapping at my mind.
Under such tearaway skin, your rivers run the same.
A scarlet surge of pain.
Inside, both still wet.
I want to carve you out of stone.
But your bones won’t allow it.
It keeps me touching your sweet face.
Feeling your heartbeat vibrate the sails that take you further away.
Off into that isolated horizon.
But upon these salty sands, carried by the red river.
I find your message, bottled up and ready to explode.
This doesn’t feel like an apology.
Only a declaration of freedom.
Signed in vermilion.

Engulfed

Coming up for air, and stealing the sun.
How long can I live underwater?
Pushed to drowning by the weight of your departure.
Collapsing like time.
Peeling the skin off my life like the rind off an orange.
Covered in mess. Bloody and sticky.
Yet nothing washes away.
Nothing drifts, except the pain into tomorrow.
And once again I’m fighting for air.
Alone, battling the waves.

You won’t, but you might

Please don’t hurt me, you don’t understand.
It’s my heart that is beating, bleeding there in your hand.
And forgive this emotion and whispering plea.
But it longs to be loved, not stamped and set free.

As it’s nearing the end, the potential is high.
For it to crumbled right there, and for this dream to die.
So I ask you again, as I would an old friend.
To think for a moment, to heal and then mend.

Then keep it safe in your heart, swimming in blood red and dark.
A scar on your soul, as we fade and grow old.
Then kiss me and say, you’ve decided to stay.
And all the shadows you will chase away.

Under October sky

Beneath the quietening of this heart.
Cracks a thunder, like an electric storm.
Stinging my teeth while the haemoglobin clouds roll on.
You came searching for me.
Under that October sky that fell down like sympathy.
White sheets stained red and corridors that endlessly led,
to nowhere.
I cannot see all of you in the slit through my eyelids.
While my bloodstream is awash with dizzying correctives.
Which condition should I wear?
Is this but a dream spun from those salty lips?
That kissed me last night as I climbed the walls once more.
Doubtful, for you were gone.
A room devoid of your expansive endurance.
Which explains the circumstance.
The sad tale of happenstance.
Which led me down here.

Thorned love spined

I found myself reaching for you.
Closing the gap between half worlds away.
Pulling space into my back pocket.
Keeping god under my gums.
You pull away and shake off the stardust.
Tugging the thread of the religion we wove.
Spinning out like the solar system.
Cutting me like thorns.
Yet beauty always seems to dance in the distance.
Unobtainable like the rings around Saturn.
Like the rose, once plucked will swiftly start to die.
So I will not house you in glass jars.
Or swirl you inside me like marbles in time.
You can bloom and fade on your own as I watch from a distance.
Seeing Saturn return into space.
Remembering how sweetly you smelt that summer’s day of mine.

Lurk

Malcontent to stop me dreaming.
A bitter play that keeps revealing.
Scenes upon a static stage.
A macabre heart for this new age.
For doubt replaces it’s bloody setting.
A pumping organ that keeps forgetting.
That you lurk inside this past.
A haunting ghost that always lasts.
And wades on through our murky trauma.
Pining for a love that former,
took the place you now reside.
And kills this love, you try to hide.

Gallery of souls

How the love filled my heart.
Yet a size too small.
Breaking at the seams and spilling blood on the white couch.
Yet eternally it took me.
Like Moses to the mountain.
As I watched you fix your smile.
Nervously looking at the ceiling as you spoke.
Sleeping silently.
Being anything but me, anything but myself.
Wanting the world to fade, so I could be alone with you.
Just you. Swollen in a sea of scared beliefs.
And dreams that came true.
Fade to blue.
Collapsing the before into the now of the never.
As you choke the love out of me and let me breathe.
Letting you in.
As we begin.
Hanging pictures of our love, for the world to see.
And pay admission to leave.

IDLE HANDS

Spider vines that creep.
Under my skin, beneath the bone.
Touching you there, where I know you’d feel something.
Underneath where the devil plays.
And the intent, whispers like a tongue on the breeze.
My witch’s familiar licks the blood from these fingers.
And hunts you down.
Seeking revenge and reason for you turning my head.
And throbbing my blood.
With your idle care.
Now at the whim, of my idle hands.

Octopus

Cracks in the colossus.
Licking time across new wounds.
Limping and lumbering back into the ocean of your eyes.
Taking lifelines.
That little notepad you kept in your desk.
Right behind your mind.
Scribbling a sonnet for thine truth to break.
And a storm to release.
Sweeping up all the worries and the fish from the bottom of the sea.
I bottled up these sea storms.
The swell in your day.
But you pick and poke at the cork and the corrections.
To then complain that you are soaking wet.
What fable lives now in that oily deep?
What treasures do you covert, claw at and keep?
For in my mind too swim a thousand sharks.
Tasting blood in the water.
And it’s tough, stuck; no longer able to swim.

Raining underwater

Underneath. Down here where it’s still.
Where the black beauty of the abyss flitters at my feet.
All is quiet.
I’m entombed as in a coffin.
Locked forever in my own space with the promise of ever after.
And then you came.
Pelting my world.
Hurtling across like a comet in my stretching blue sky.
You bring the change, flourishing open like a new season.
Calling sub-oceanic flowers to bloom within me.
Aquatic forest firs that reach up to touch the surface.
My hands branch to catch the light you dazzle.
A sudden rush you instil like heroin bubbles my blood.
Coming up too soon, bending my compression that has kept my heart safe.
A fish not born to fly with you, where the birds and angels soar.
Now it rains under water, puddling the pool of the sea that parts us.
And I drift in the stream of sorrow.
Knowing the rain on the surface, are really your tears.

O-A+

You don’t need this religion. Your face screams a new fear.
With Maybelline eyes that tear.
A cut so deep that it stings my own heart.
As this city crumbles; the cathedrals fall apart.
Let the dust settle on the sweat that is sticky.
Close your eyes, and think of me. Let me take you over.
As memories begin to thin your blood.
And my broken lips kiss you sweetly.