Tuesday, 20 June 2017
When I am old
and these eyes have seen all they already know for themselves
to see what I have seen
to see what I see
to go to sea
When I am old
I'll take out my heart and store it in a jar.
I'll dry it out in a jar and display it on my front step proudly for visitors.
There in the centre, floating in a small row boat
you will be singing softly
smiling like you know a secret.
and these eyes have seen all they already know for themselves
to see what I have seen
to see what I see
to go to sea
When I am old
I'll take out my heart and store it in a jar.
I'll dry it out in a jar and display it on my front step proudly for visitors.
There in the centre, floating in a small row boat
you will be singing softly
smiling like you know a secret.
Veins
It was all a jokeat my expense
I never wanted to stop laughing at myself
so I made up a reason to smile
cutting the laughter piece by piece from my flesh
Trying to prove the bubbling sound of flowing blood
is as joyful as a river
filled with sticks
Already knowing where it will flow
what it will see.
Tuesday, 14 February 2017
Why do I keep dreaming about you?
Why are you still on my mind
I thought you were just a bruise, a mystery bruise
The type you discover two days after a night out
forgotten as soon as it's found
But you've become a fracture
An injury I still cannot heal
Because you eased me into you
You wrapped your hands around my heart and promised to be kind
And because knew you would be, I could not, would not let those hands
so soft, so wondering, wander across my wounds
And expose just how cruel I have been to myself
Why are you still on my mind
I thought you were just a bruise, a mystery bruise
The type you discover two days after a night out
forgotten as soon as it's found
But you've become a fracture
An injury I still cannot heal
Because you eased me into you
You wrapped your hands around my heart and promised to be kind
And because knew you would be, I could not, would not let those hands
so soft, so wondering, wander across my wounds
And expose just how cruel I have been to myself
You're so good at words, but I know they're actually empty.
I can hear them echo.
I can't be hallow anymore.
When you speak I feel nothing - each word another spadeful you take from my heart's capacity to love.
I want to fall into the great fabric of the world
and feel the universe slip through my fingers
winds that merge my colours with those outside of me
Every atom screams out the need to feel to feel
My soul is a constant vibration
Why can no one see it?
When you tell me about myself I feel like I am actively unlearning who I really am.
You rose tinted glasses soften all of my edges
and I feel it like sandpaper
trying to make me less spiky
I feel ready to be pulled apart
My limbs are screaming to be set free
My fingers are edging over the great divide, finding their grip.
I can hear them echo.
I can't be hallow anymore.
When you speak I feel nothing - each word another spadeful you take from my heart's capacity to love.
I want to fall into the great fabric of the world
and feel the universe slip through my fingers
winds that merge my colours with those outside of me
Every atom screams out the need to feel to feel
My soul is a constant vibration
Why can no one see it?
When you tell me about myself I feel like I am actively unlearning who I really am.
You rose tinted glasses soften all of my edges
and I feel it like sandpaper
trying to make me less spiky
I feel ready to be pulled apart
My limbs are screaming to be set free
My fingers are edging over the great divide, finding their grip.
Monday, 30 January 2017
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