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Days go by—gentle as a lamb with a lion’s head—but time doesn’t exist in the nights we spend alone. I’m forcing the river to flow, and I’ll keep it going until I pull this thorn from my side. You’re in the back of my mind—a time bomb ticking like a cheap clock—becoming accustomed to the force pushing you ahead. “Stay with me . . . “ Is that what you said? As if I could depart. Still, you’ve left a mark on the monument of my heart like acid rain as I lay here charmed and corroded.

A sharp blow might tell me something different than would time, so should I wait? Or should I re-align my insides? Could we justify the actions? Or would your reaction flood into me? I would die for you, but I’ve never wanted anything less than this. Just one kiss from a lover’s fist . . . (deliver the blow) No one will know. Anti-anxiety could fly free if the water runs red and warm, but even in capsule form; it can’t do too much harm . . .

Untitled

here's a hint of my confession--

I'm crossing out the words, but the shape of your complexion marks a hole inside the earth.

The shaking of my spine hints towards a bit of poetry,

but the weight of all the waiting has touched a part of me.

(but devils have come too soon,

beckoning now like a stolen child,

her phantom casts a shadow through you)

All is vanity

You show so much, but still remain a mystery.

I used to know the shape of your vanity--the weight of your obsession--but I sold it too short. Too much could never be enough when city noise cuts off progress, but I hate the way you dress and the colour of your eyes up against the horizon line.

When the sunset moves from hilltops to skyscrapers, it's too apparent that we're not together. Those ten minutes could be bliss if it was all we needed to live, but you still have your center stage dreams. You're raising the temperature 100 degrees while I'm chasing ivory keys... (do you think about it? do you think of me?)

The acoustic hanging in the air won't get us back to anywhere, but where do we belong? Locked inside a compromise; a systematic complication (flirting with my irritation). If I could play it off as an easy mistake you could call me a liar with every breath that you take. You said you would have stayed away if only you knew, if only you knew I'd understand the way I do.
But I'm begging you to listen. To hear.

I need you to believe in me when my face burns and stomach turns and my voice can't help but shake.

Brooklyn keeps you standing still, but it's only a test of will. Will I really love you? Best wishes, I do, but I'd tear you apart with these matters of the heart, and baby . . . that's not what I choose.

"Haemoglobin," by Placebo

I was hanging from a tree
unaccustomed to such violence
Jesus looking down on me;
I'm prepared for one big silence.

how'd I ever end up here?
must be through some lack of kindness
and it seemed to dawn on me:
haemoglobin is the key to a healthy heartbeat.

at the time they cut me free,
I was brimming with defiance.
doctors looking down on me--
breaking every law of science.

how'd I ever end up here?
a latent strain of colour-blindness
then it seemed to dawn on me--
haemoglobin is the key to a healthy heartbeat.

Now My Feet Don't Touch The Ground.

as they drag me to my feet,
I was filled with incoherence
theories of conspiracy--
the whole world wants my disappearance

I'll go fighting nail and teeth;
you've never seen such perseverance!
gonna make you scared of me,
cause haemoglobin is the key.

haemoglobin is the key to a healthy heartbeat.

Now My Feet Don't Touch The Ground.

Bruise Pristine

Have you ever had one of those moments before?
Where your vision cracks over in purple, and recollection dissipates
infection overrides perception, and suddenly you're on the floor?
When your world changes place and fades to defiance,
and your complexion abates beneath a pale colourstain?