All the room you need

Illuminated, the folds of heaven.
Bitten torn feathers.
With plucked thorns from our skulls.
That you and me.
Bittersweet.
Red, like the veins of a tree in autumn.
Washed in golden light.
Drunk with sacred hymns that sing in your bones.
I see the lotus bloom in your eyes.
I want to hear your temple sing.
These snow covered aspects, higher.
Above the shelf we cannot reach.
Tickled by the zephyr underneath.
No longer the caged bird that sings.
But the sparrow that stole the sky.

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In death, we shine

Your tombstone bares words that read your life.
Of sympathy, of love and strife.
But in the bones, that lie beneath.
A head of stars sits with golden teeth.
And holds a grand and saintly story.
Beyond the scope of daily glory.
For your own magic hums inside those bones.
Beyond what’s carved above in stone.
Your story is a vast and endless sea.
That goes beyond mortal humanity.

Peck

There, can you hear it?
A relentless tapping.
Incessant as the dark which captures the night.
It comes and never leaves. Beating out the marrow of my bones.
Do not shake your head in disbelief, it’s a nightmare for which I seek relief.
Hello, it’s me here the fluttering reminder.
You inside me, what is that sound?
It’s breaking my will and senses down.
I’m the little bird that was on your windowpane.
I came inside when you opened that vein.

And now you tap inside my skull all day?
I’m here yes, and happy to say;
better me than the moths and ghosts.
Who’d nibble at your heart like toast.
If I move to the light, will you follow?
I told you once, your head is not hollow; you know that I am here to stay.
For how long?
Well, I couldn’t say.
I hope my fluttering would lodge that organ.
Of pulsing grey and tangle webs.
Of thoughts and hopes inside this head.
Lodge them why, what do I need?
I am safe alone, without any need;
of impulses that force me out of comfort.
Or being lost, failed abandoned then hurt.
I tap and knock as an irritant reminder.
You’re wasting time here, like a static sidewinder.
An empty column of force and wind.
That’s fading fast, anorexically thinned.

(Sigh)
I know, you’re right, but what can I do?
I had my dreams, but away they flew.
I’ll tell you what, there is tomorrow.
I’ll start it all then, and dreams will follow.
Then I will carry on with my tapping.
To keep you from your easy napping.
I said tomorrow I’ll chase those dreams.
For now please cease these needless screams.
Of forcing me, when I’m feeling forced.
Very well my friend, you steer your course.
But If not today, then tell me then.
If not then why, and perhaps then when?

Precious little pulse

The earth inhaled as I held my own breath.
You waited to breathe again.
Gold expanded in your lungs.
Midasly watching and waiting.
I counted the heartbeats.
The darkness between us and the moon.
Everything added up, yet made little sense.
Your bones are getting tired while you turn blue.
And a distance begins to grow in your eyes.
One kiss for good intentions.
A step back for a wrong turn.
We are angels in flight.
We were wings above the ocean of thought.
I counted each eyelash while you dreamt.
I waited for you to breathe once more.
And though you stand there with gold pouring from you.
Your smile is more precious than a sky of sapphires.
Or a river of rubies.
As we sail on, with your hand in mine.

Violence

Still sleeping with the light on.
Yet the shadows find you.
Creeping, and licking at your soul.
Silently, they claw at your throat.
Spilling your dreams across the floor.
Tomorrow sits on your windowsill watching.
Yesterday slithers out the backdoor.
You let the violence inside when you stopped believing.
When the prayers ended, the devil crept in with the rain.
It eats you from inside, this doubt.
Spins your soul on a thread to weave into nightmares.
These days, your empty bag of bones drifts through the hours.
Captured in screenshots with vacant eyes and sad smiles.
Even god cracked open your skull to peek inside.
But all she found was dust and despair.
I can squeeze the blood and pain from you now.
I can rest the history of the decade on your spine.
Hearing the vertebrae crack and crumble.
Then rip the cells apart looking for love.
But there will be nothing to feel.
Nothing makes waves on your silent sea.
For you are numbed to the world and your own salvation.
Collapsing eternally into now.

View from the top

These sights wash these eyes like concrete.
Nothing moves me.
There is an absence of surprise now in my bones.
The world unfolds before me, much the same as it did yesterday.
Ashes never change.
It’s such a shame that everything stays the same.
And all these prayers go unanswered.
The wasted youth of trying to figure it all out.
Coming up empty.
Pots of fool’s gold and the things unneeded.
Yet bought at such a price.
The devil counts the souls as the sun goes down.
These conversations I have now, should be with myself.
Ten years ago.
Instead of to God.
Who always only ever laughed.

Coming up for air

All hypothetical disenchantment
How many slaps on the wrist till I get it?
Shaking with my allergic reaction to loneliness.
Call the birds down that circle above.
Peck out the disappointment and the idealistic out of this eye.
Leave to die, locked in a room where the skeletons chatter.
Locked out of heaven with the world before us.
Suddenly I’m turned down to darkness.
The dull flame that burns, struggles in the void.
Come home.
Race back and pull the car from the lake.
Only the headlights glow now under water.
The only sounds you hear are lakey tears.
Silent, in the watery body that covers me.

Precious prayers

Turn my skin forever into gold.
Wipe away those tears that make me feel old.
Freeze the air in my lungs so I cannot breathe.
Bury me each night, silently and then leave;
no trace but the thought of you next to me.
Pray in my church, cut me once; and you’ll start bleed.
Never question this faith, but keep me inside.
Along with those tears of Christ, that you choose to hide.

Opium for the soul

I feel no pain. I feel nothing.
An uncomfortable numbness itching in my bones.
How your lips bring about such devastation.
Apathaites my heart and bubbles my blood.
Oh the sweet bends that rush, twisting my insides out.
You are the opium for my soul.
The novocaine for my conscience.
Which constantly waivers into unstable territory.
You keep my ghost steady as I walk this earth.
Getting high from the lows you put me under.
Feeling flight as you watch me crawl.
Love, such a compromise anyway.

Problematic providence

The least I can do is, is to rip this skin off.
To strip the bones of the sinful wrapping.
Do you know, it is your body I wish to devour?
Sampling chunks of Christ to purify.
Oh my god, do you know what waters run underneath.
Holy and polluted, waiting to be washed by biblical floods of love.
Yet to detest all of it seems wasteful, for thou art in your image.
An image which feels like a memory.
Do you feast on me? Do you drink my blood?
How sacred is the house that sits on such rocky promise.
A church in the corner of the room where the shadows dwell.
Thy kingdom to come home to, when the world drives me out.
With each act of contrition, with each prayer I mumble.
Wanting, hoping, begging to be like you.
I sink and think, swimming in your brilliance, drowning in your light.
Wondering perhaps, if I am already my own messiah.

Escape

She ran into the lake, she flew into the trees.
Wandering like a ghost, too anxious to please.
Who she left behind, and who she carried within.
Beyond the bones of love, trapped now beneath her skin.
How she tied to shake them, before she fled her mind.
A sanctuary above her, grown fragile over time.
For they had now invaded, and refused requests to leave.
Confessing words of affection, too hard for her to believe.
So now she sped into the sky, and dove into the ocean.
Killing them most quickly, but guiltily in slow motion.
She hoped she would escape the thoughts, now running through her mind.
Of being held accountable, condemned now for all time.
With a blood on her hands, and sadness in her heart.
Leaving this earth the way she wanted, her end now has a start.

Heroin(e)

Fire crack cackle in hushed shadows.
Little fingers about to be cut off.
What you say makes me shudder.
A creeping shiver left at the side of the bed.
A mind now full of kitty litter.
With the life looking and an ache to scratch.
Weakness, tossed out like surprise.
Sweetness that came in like a hammer to the glass heart.
Lick me up like spite, with a malice reduced down into silver spoons.
As I fall away from you.
And watch you choke on words and not loneliness.
It moves now in to post-blue passive aggressive.
Feeling the testosterone in our bones.
Angry, because you wanted it this way.
Embattled and emblazed with the world shouting us as well.
Waiting for the silence to once again smother our fires.

Alchemy and deliberation

Twist the thorn in the blackness.
A congealed oil in my soul.
Split the vein and breathe.
Om Sarveshaam svastir-bhavatu.
We’ve stripped the skin, dived right in to a place we’ve known before.
A return, or re-invention.
Time to manage the maligned.
Re-arrange the altar in my heart, kneel and give thanks.
Here. Now. So high.
Flying above houses and heaven.
Making my way across the sky.
With green tea and terror on my lips.
But unafraid, of the wonder beyond.
The familiar in my bones.
And the story yet told.

Reaching roots

How deep do these roots need to burrow?
While the wind of the world shakes and batters.
Down deep, past dinosaur bones and bits of myself.
Long forgotten memories and names no longer remembered.
Roots of strength, yet they strangle the small and struggling.
Little sprouts of new dreams which begin deep in the dark of my soul.
Waiting, for just the tiniest flash of light.
Yet the roots need to be strong.
For it’s much further to go on.
And this tree is desperate to reach up to heaven.

Interrupted Sleep

You sleep the soundest with gritted teeth.
Chocking on the chalk.
Swallowing the lies.
Silently sweating out the guilt that pools,
soaking your soul.
Such violent awakenings.
The disgust of the nights awake to your dirty days.
Paralysing the angel that hovers in your bones.
Do you talk the loudest to god?
Who really listens?
Where does the devil take you to punch at your dreams.
Shattering the road of good intentions.

An eulogy of sleep

Tokyo flutters on the eyelids.
Silencing the sleep.
Cairo creeping on the skin.
A hemisphere of time separates.
A body in repose. The mind scattered.
All is quiet. All is calm.
I move the things that are put in place to protect me.
Tiny rivets that keep me clamped.
Tarping wrapped around my soul.
Flutters off into the horizon.
Peeling away this world to dig beneath the ground.
Waking the dead to tell them, not to sleep, but to dream.
Heady fluorescents shine through those summer eyes.
A system of survival begins to whirl to life.
Ticking and tocking to a rhythm we’ve all known.
All felt deep in the roots of our bones.
Now with talk of eternal positions.
Laying down to rest.
4am.
Skirting the edge of dreams.
Marking the skies red.

Broken pieces

​Uncover the shells, the coins over these eyes.
Floating like the debris of life.
Dug out of god’s pocket, with the lint and consequence, of time.
Falling by.
Clutched in the hand as broken pieces.
Early echoes of a self that I once knew.
Too quickly, it left the room.
The place I had built with much toil and despair.
A sanctuary of solitude, on the edge of uncertainty.
And now, a numbness takes over.
Turns bones to brittle and guards to be dropped.
All slack cut as the mind opens wide.
Am I sorry to myself?
What apology is needed, in the face of evolution?
Of change that throttles and throws us into tomorrow.
I land on my cat feet, without those nine lives.
Just a jumble inside of those broken pieces.
Rattling out a tune, a new version of me.

Undoing

Flutter as the noise disturbs the flies.
And the feelings come alive.
In all of the ways you make it up.
How much of you is smeared in invisible ink on the soul?
It’s a little of you, a little of me.
A flame caught in the eyes of others.
Reboot.
Start again and untangle the mess of a millennium.
Who set the clocks anyway, the ones that are always ticking?
Paint all of this green and make it come alive.
Dance in the field of the immortals.
Where nothing shakes their bones.
And welcome arms embrace your indecision.
For that is where true beings reside.
And the great pretenders die.

Love come rescue

Arrived, 4am. Too tired to see the world for what it was.
Slipping into the cracks and shadows that fill my eyes.
Too drunk to notice that I couldn’t notice you.
Standing with arms outstretched like a bird’s wings.
The wren that always had strength to fly.
That slipped into the open wounds and found our hearts.
It patches us up now, flitting inside my skin.
Pulling feathers over broken bones.
But like me, it does not notice the cartilage cage it builds up around it.
It too now needs help. To lift up and soar again.
Love, please come and rescue us all.
Make us fit to fly and leave this place.
With only fallen feathers to show we were here at all.

Reveal

The suffering of fools, with each day they add their stain.
A clogging of air that you need to breathe.
Beneath the end, that’s where they’ll find you.
So strong and complete. Underneath.
You want it all so badly, this revelation to tomorrow.
To be remembered and loved for the skeleton inside.
As you bathe in a bath of bleach.
And rinse your soul with turpentine.
Uproot the dark and the dirt that keeps you hidden.
That keeps you displayed for a world of passer-by’s.
This great reveal, behind the curtain.
Under the skin.
Is the world you live in.