May 2011
2 posts
So here it is… for a while now I’ve been going through some stuff. I don’t really need to get into the details, suffice it to say that it’s not been the easiest ride. And in terms of trying to make things better, the one thing I’ve realised today that has been missing is to take control.
I’ve been reading this:...
You offer no cacophony, no salt to rub into her wounds. You offer to be cloud-like, superficial, with quiet insistence. And her heavy body and her heavy heart willfully seek your strong embrace, and the charm that radiates from your eyes.
She’ll sink to obscurity with this pulsating in her veins. She wakes from fevered slumber with this alien pulse, from when you have crept into her...
March 2011
1 post
Think positively. Because the only way from where you’ve been is up. It’s liberating, even though you know with all your fibres that it was a chemical spectre gripping at your throat. You still found things to live for. To love and adore. To lust after. To anticipate, relish and enjoy. Be alive in this freedom. Be free.
February 2011
2 posts
Rip it all up and start again. Reacknowledge. Readjust. Go through the same boring shit yet again. Get tired. Get low. Get car-crash happy. And wait for the light.
She has scars to remind her of who she can be.
She has dreams and aspirations of who she wants to be.
She is not unique or special to many. But she is to a few. And that’s what matters.
January 2011
1 post
I always want to be better, but then I feel like the black star will always be there, coaxing me to let it guide me.
I always want to do better, but then I try to do too much and feel like a failure.
I always want to feel better, but then I feel like my body willfully struggles against me.
I always want to act better, but then I get too tired to try any more.
I always feel like I bring it on...
December 2010
3 posts
Growing
Embrace even your mistakes.
Old Stories - part II
The rest of the stories lost in a clutter of other posts from my ‘main’ Tumblr account.
——
Baby doll
Sweet, sweet, baby doll
Won’t you come sit with me?
On this rustic, rusty bench
Watching time pass you by
~
Sweet, sweet, candy girl
Tell me why I fly away?
Shackle my ankle to the bench
Make sure I cannot leave
~
Sweet, sweet, sugar lips
Rest your head on my...
Old Stories - part I
My old stories on my main Tumblr account are now thoroughly lost beneath photos and, ever increasingly, automated last.fm posts. I may have to do something with that blog since I don’t ever post there. But in the meantime I’m digging out all the stories and putting them here, in their rightful place.
——
He
She deals in the rhythm, the rhythm the pace the rhyme...
November 2010
1 post
You are the one enfolding in this cigarette haze. You are as obscure only as this troubled mind, at this troubled hour can make. You are of flourishes and curlicues. I am of hard cold steel and destruction. It plays to my strengths, your weakness. It plays into my hands, your coldness. We are nonsensical as it is time to be. In the morning it will be dream-state forgotten. For I am roses and...
October 2010
3 posts
Animalistic not ritualistic he smells of crisp, fresh mountain air and of raw diamond shine. And you feel like a hollywood starlet, lavished with intensity of attention and passion. He moves evenly through your veins as he first works over your head and then your body. He moves deliberately over your nerve endings as he controls your movements in time and in space. You are hungry for that...
Just let me have these moments of sidenote. These alternate endings. There are things that can’t be, would not want to be, changed. And you can get eternally lost in them. Dragged ocean-bed deep by sneaking tendrils. And yet. They are tantalisingly there. All the what ifs and if I’d justs. Waiting for the weak of mind and soul.
I shelter here some days.
I used to spit bile and venom into the ether, to be read by faceless eyes. I used to spin grotesque words into gruesome tales to show how I was feeling. It was all blood and scars and dead eyes and soul torture and distress, dismay and pure fucking raging anger. Some of it was eloquent in its horrors and some of it was less so, but the threads being weaved remained constant… vitriol at...
September 2010
1 post
After...
Immediately vulnerable, he cowers. Like being ripped suddenly from the womb he limpets without thought. The first instinct is to protect, to hold and stroke and soothe, a stream of comforting words that must sound harsh to his newly-listening ears, a touch that must feel like branded hot to skin so sensitively alert.
Head full of cotton wool he mumbles of the journey she’ll never know. ...
August 2010
2 posts
Forgive me...
Things were crazy and confused. I was confused. And I was crazy. There was all too much and too little. Too much swirling round one little head. Through one weak body. No excuses. I did wrong for the right reasons. And I did right for the wrong reasons. And now I learn. And I put it to bed, under six feet of cool earth. Please let me have this chance. This new beginning. All I ever...
Epilogue
He smelled of musty earth and grass. And he let me hunt snakes in the back with him. He was always going to ‘see a man about a dog’. And he let me read the football results to him. Suddenly, he wasn’t there any more.
She was always making me roast beef sandwiches and spoiling me crazy. And later on she smelled of death and she didn’t know it. She spoke in swahili...
July 2010
1 post
You are the one when that tumour starts to press. When flipping yourself hanging by curled toes on the top of the door frame everything is normal. When random words spew out my dry cracked lips bubbling with salivation and glazed. No words uttered again, just the incessant burbling of rhythm and rhyme hunting with a double-barrel. These letters don’t look right, they never go in order, a...
May 2010
3 posts
She conducts silent orchestras under that diluted ripple-pool gaze. Silent symphonies of this word and that word. Until those words dissolve. They will dissolve, in that burning ethereal haze of the day. And the deep water is all that’s left to her. In her bambi-legged condition. In the blinking light. The quiet is good. The loud better. They talk to her, the shadows and the...
One from the archives...
He says hey baby doll, why do your eyes look so dead? Stone cold, full of pain would surely be better. Full of joy an unreachable goal. He says sweetheart when did you last sleep? Eat? Brush your hair? She says, hey cutie pie 3 maybe 4 days. I’m living on my broken nails. Chewed to the quick. And further still. Bleeding, infected. And still I can’t stop cutting my teeth on them....
dot dot dot
Being all at once everything to everyone and taking their lead, following their footsteps, being pushed and pulled and battered along the journey. And her heart it still sings, still stings, still…
Not weak. Been strong for too long. Keep telling yourself that as the crimson night comes before your eyes, that moment before the darkness that you dream about, that you almost crave. It...
March 2010
3 posts
4 real
I wrote of that lost soul, of this lost soul. It was distressed and distressing yet all about the shock and awe. He cleaved his thoughts, he carved his path, and he became this uniquely disturbed hero to worship. His words showing everything that is wrong with the world in sickening symphonies. It’s better to burn out than to fade away. But where did he go to? Lost in his own crumpled...
Knives Out
Skewed reality with the horror of the present. The knives are coming to get me yet I stand firm and wait. And I delve into those murky depths, to release, to forget. I will not bleed from every pore. No more. Grotesque and contorted images invade my mind. And I can’t scrub myself clean no matter how hard I try.
But I stand firm. I look to the good. I look to the best everything can...
MK I
He gives the control or does he have it taken away? Such solace in the freedom of having none. Of being under scrutiny and performing with precision. Shackled with intent, driven to no distractions. Such a simplicity, and complexity that people don’t understand. You don’t get it. Not with your assumed mis-knowledge. He gets it, and gets wrapped up in its tight embrace.
There is...
February 2010
1 post
What if you belong in my imagination? Sometimes you are diamond shine. And sometimes it is a bleak day. What am I afraid of? And what are you?
I do not wish to consume, I will keep your perfumed secrets. I wish to entwine and entangle, make some beautiful mess.
I do not wish to be stronger as a whole than apart. I am fractured, in need of my own crazy glue. To strengthen and wisen and to see...
January 2010
3 posts
Come to me night temptress,
Clad in heavy robes of damson velvet,
Come fuel my fire,
Come quench my tongue with acid,
Set my skin ablaze with your iron brand,
And never ever leave.
Auto-pilot vs a flight captain’s new wings. One is parroting. The other needs not be said. Flying high, swooping and soaring and loop-the-looping. And same as it ever was. Ostriches don’t actually bury their heads in the sand so insert another metaphor here. And repeat unspoken words until they explode your head.
There is a glut of words. I am gluttony. But she is too much of a whore...
You are that sheet ice that I fumble my way across. Slipping and sliding and gasping as I fall. You are that pure white snow tumbling from the heavens. You are that burning sunrise, and that mellow sunset. You are nipping at my fingertips, edging me home to warmth. You are these days, you are.
December 2009
1 post
Poppies
I am done being that weak-stemmed faded flower being battered in the wind. Tall poppies people want to cut down but I don’t care. I can be a tall poppy. Try and take me down, I dare you. I will succeed because I have hope on my side, and pessimism is knocked-out on the floor.