Poetry

I take the long way home

focussed on my drying skin,

hands and fingers and lips.

I turn from myself in the dark

and fill my ears with his sweet voice

i watch with glazed eyes, the ink bird stand still

only thinking of the light glistening through your hair

I long for your grey pale skin

for your soft pink tinged lips

and eyes of empty blue

that look straight past it all.

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A wash of loneliness comes over my sweat coated skin.

I walked for miles and I’m still alone.

Losing pounds by the second,

filling the gap in my chest with poison.

Waiting for him, waiting for it to kick in.

My shoulders ache from the weight of my choices

from the weight of my dreams and my love.

My limbs are itching, my brain is empty

I think I’m high, cause now i don’t mind a thing

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LAST BLUE

Beasts arranged on the shelves between the bottles

their profile reflected in the musty glass

Its daytime at the table, leaning elbows on the arm rests

as i pour liquor down my parched throat

The sun shines down outside, i felt it digging into my pours

threatening my laboured skin

Filling the gaps between the ink with an olive brown

I take refuge between the stained blue walls

on the dark mauve leather. I look insane, across from

an orange haired boy with sweet eyes asking me why I’m still here.

The milk curdles in the depths of my cup

As the day breaks through my smoke hazed window

I awoke from dreams of what wasn’t mine

with feet and legs cramped and an ache in my head.

Up and alight against the marker drawn anticross

running fingers through matted hair, over tired eyes and cheek.

Sonic drones bounce off the purple wallpaper stifling my walls.

I sway and fade through the drum and the heat.

I keep it warm like summer time, the cold day creeping under my door.

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Cold foreign streets of grey and grey

i search for anything and something

alone amongst the pale and wet

it seems the same but its not

In the place of dreams, i yearn for

the comfort of the past

i miss the things i hate

Everything tastes strange

alone, surrounded by the dying and the birds

the young are too young and the others are dead

i walk with eyes wide and smoke on my lips

i am waiting for something, for that.

.

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I lingered too long

on his lips, his eyes, his cheek

consumed from afar, eyes closed

trying not to hear the words you spoke

your voice makes me cry, I love, I love,

I lost what i never had

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the blood washed out of my collar

erasing a memory i had already forgotten

alone and warm in the night

i don’t know you but I’m still waiting

The cold pricks up
The hair on my olive skin.
I don’t shiver from the air

The gin is strong,
the Valium Fills my head
Eyes half open, sultry to the page
I lose focus

He has me thinking of crashing
I wait for it to hit,
as my eyes glaze over

His skin the colour of marble
A greying white of soft flesh
Engraved with dark lines
Of unknown beasts
He lays before me,
His face unframed
a smirk on his lips.

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On the foam bedding and the darkness we lay entwined

his mind fogged with intoxication, mine with desire

and a greedy yearning. For flesh, for love, for touch

Hope dwells within me. A constant disappointment and

lack of understanding, ghostly sadness wraps its

thin white hands around my heart and  guts.

Gripping tighter with every thought.

Thrown away once again. I exist as a mere excuse.

A muffled kiss, sweat coating his skin. I mean nothing.