We spin around mistakes then in a fake we resurface
and hesitate when were nervous,
and the curse is
underneath the verses.
the things that don’t get said
when renewed life emerges.
Things like the demons
that live inside of you
won’t lose sight of purpose
even though you've found your view.
And you are on your own,
even in a crowd full people,
all alone thinking that one day you would be equal.
Waiting for your sequel
but it never comes
you succumb to the worlds stage
even though it numbs.
And at this age
you can’t express it through rage,
you would rather sit in your cage
and make it beautiful
then forget about what he says or she says
because who are they to judge?
their words are only words and you are ineffable as such.
You rush into the corner of your mind
self-expressing all time
effervescing in decline
life lessons redefined.
But before you let that sink in
remember I was blinking
at night instead of sleeping
I was sinking and augmented,
state of mind rented,
to find temporary signs that’s amor scented.
Was I more accepted then?
before a pen became the shape of a friend.
In vain I would like to defend
the lane inside the pretend.
The mind speaks for itself,
a kind of leak for the wealth
of blind leeches in stealth
as signs reach for your health.
When who you are is who you will never be.
A declining star is who you are meant to be.
Nevermind I’m far from aligning mentally,
when you are still here sitting next to me.
Making it clear that dysfunctional people attract.
It’s feeble in fact the game we both try to enact.
A spurious fact that pulling wool over our eyes,
We lie to ourselves
when really we love in disguise.
Then realise that we are clearly in denial,
our spirits in a pile on the floor
and we are sore from the bile
we create when together in a state
of depression the expression is the opposite,
an adolescent composite.
I heard we're absurd
from the voices in my head
but instead we choose to ignore the core of that notion
so emotion overtakes,
the choices I should make,
forcing the mistake with my foot above the break.
We accelerate further.
The voice becomes a murmur then silence.
A magnetic violence,
two poles together in loopholes
endeavouring new woes
and severing mute souls
it’s never been too cold for us.
I'm writing these letters to discuss
issues that have now formed dust,
I was never in a rush
I was revelling in everything but love.
Voice whispering again.
Take your time,
you will find, in every line
a fence to climb.
When you fear all that's near,
your thoughts resign.
When you're scared and unprepared
for life's design.
Tell your friends that you are fine,
avoiding all that talk.
Running into obstacles
when you would rather walk.
The people around your shell
in tiny webs they're caught.
Toss and turn
all you learn when crimes adjourned,
your mind will burn.
And the flames pick up their speed.
When patience is all you need.
You are grateful for all the opposites,
clashing with all you read.
So take your time
words jumping off the page,
enticed by an empty rage,
whispering in syllables
through the ear of a shaking cage
so take your time
so when is our right time
Is it now?
Are we in our right minds?
Do we allow thoughts?
only the right thoughts to enter?
Are we in this together?
The centre of our being
Are we seeing what it means
when our dreams seek solace
through the painting of a scene.
Is it all as it seems?
This ageing routine
elevating esteem of the self.
But were keen to fulfil
empty promises until
we are broken in a field.
And I cannot for the sake me conceal
The asphyxia revealed the confliction in my steps.
I guess I’m filled with amorous regrets
I need rest to feel less yearning
Turning the page
Learning to gauge lucidity
under this phase that’s willing me on.
The thunderous days will surely be gone
To cure the malaise
So I do not vacillate in your gaze.
I should go to sleep,
I'm tired and wide-awake
with thoughts racing through me peddling and spinning with no brakes.
I think I need a break
before I dive in a lake
that's deep in my mind.
I'm inclined to search and never find
when I'm blind,
seeking clarity in my thoughts,
apparently I exhort
a kind of melancholy state when its late.
I'm struggling to shut off,
thoughts running amuck,
Is what I tell myself.
I hope my brain will listen and surround me in a wealth of dreams
so I redeem a token of self, conscious eyes on the shelf,
disguising psyche to melt.
Impel a monodrama
Maybe ill be calmer in the morning,
dispel and harbor in the same breath.
Unless in dreaming an inane quest forces me to wake up In the same mess."
Pay no mind to my indelible notes
I’m passing through,
rocking all of the boats,
stealing paddles from quotes.
And I knew within the battles I wrote,
that there were few if any moments of growth
in those gargantuan oaths.
So when I write,
do I write for us both?
Does it eschew pain or does it evoke
an homophilous choke.
All we see in this vision is smoke
Indecision is the popular vote
in the election of hope.
We're the kind that falls apart to evolve
closing doors so we solve
the mysteries of our souls
and who knows
we may just find the keys to inner resolve,
then step away from inclinations to fold,
facing the chorus of old.
I’m just talking,
ignore every thought please.
I freeze when you shine that light in face,
and encased in every line
are pictures to trace
of signs signifying dreams we erased.
Defying all that we chased.
I prefer her early in the morning
no make-up on her face.
When there’s sleep in her eyes
and nothing to hide the grace.
Her natural beauty is something she doesn’t see,
30 minutes in the mirror
Covering up for me.
She’d rather listen to magazines and tv
than to the man that loves her unconditionally.
I tell her
everyday that she’s beautiful,
she doesn’t hear,
and the news travels from ear to ear,
she doesn’t hear my message as sincere
so in fear
she makes her face perfectly clear.
Her freckles are gone,
Disconsolate thoughts carry on
You see them as scars,
I see them as stars.
Venus and mars
floating in space
My judging creates a wall,
you tell me you need space to breathe
and tell me you wont leave
but say it’s either me
or your version of me,
Accept me for who I am
Respect is free.
She’s more than he thinks
She’ll call him tomorrow
With thoughts on the brink
Descriptive in sorrow X2
The very thing you bemoan
is what caught your eyes
My freckles were disguised
And I’m sure you said
I was beautiful then,
So what changed?
It’s strange now you’re more
of my features
So words you ignore.
memories are indelible
I’m forever sore
These scars are not stars
they’re far from it.
They remind me of the years
running home to vomit
my pain away,
Hannah and Faye
played dot to dot on my face
with permanent markers.
All I could hear
Whilst trapped in a toilet
I just wanted to scarper.
Day after day,
the exact the same routine
so please don’t talk to me
and how I’m influenced
and that it seems
I’m a sheep to societal dreams
I’m more than that.
She’s more than he thinks
She’ll call him tomorrow
With thoughts on the brink
Descriptive in sorrow X2
Blind Clouds (2013)
As I walk on her cloud,
wondering if I’m allowed
to pick up the phone
and hear the sound of her voice.
It's my choice, but really its hers,
she's got control over all my nerves.
and if these words serve
to do nothing but express
the reason I may seem stressed
Its probably for the best
that I pretend to have no interest
but I've Invested all my love
It wasn't enough, incredulous in us.
Petulance is in our residence,
this isn't a home no more
so what’s the score?
I know you're sitting on your sisters couch
unable to vouch,
I'm at home
afraid and alone
staring at the phone.
to caring more than I should
more than she ever could.
Read a horoscope saying Scorpios cling onto the past
as if life is a draft.
(Chorus)I wish you could take the time to listen to the words that I speak.They don't come easily but its the way that I feelI wish you could fine the time to see that you're all that i need open your mind and do not speak and you could set your self free
No love in her voice,
It used to be so sweet,
she spoke to me like I was just cold meat.
It hurt me, but admittedly it made me see
the way I should be
and no longer
will I stare into the air and wonder
whether the thunder
and the rain
in her brain.
The storm is over
and I overstand
that fighting in quicksand
just does more damage in the end
and I can in fact manage and defend my soul
forget holes and falling in them,
I'd rather fight some demons
that were holding me back
so I can relax in a state
of perfect confusion
and not just relapse to a fate
of broken delusion
my brain and my heart are in fusion
so I wont be choosing
just sitting here like Dizzee in the corner in 03.
The story is that solitudes no longer against me.
When I look in this mirror will I see
a mountain staring back or a slide in my iris
either life is perfect , though the opposite matters
dyslexic so mind the grammers
because life is perfect even though the opposite scatters
dyslexic to mind the grammers
I wish you could take the time to listen to the words that I speak.
They don't come easily but its the way that I feel
I wish you could fine the time to see
that you're all that i need
open your mind and do not speak
and you could set your self free
and think about it
stop and think about X2
A well read girl frowned from across the street
It was once said that there minds would one day meet.
They would hold hands nervously
for the first time
after red wine
helped them see
their time had come
their woes were done
who would have thought that they would end up as one.
They were friends and they both were in relationships that met their end too early
or so it seemed to them at the time
but not its their time to represent love
and show the world its worth it.
the build and share their own castle.
Imagine a marriage and two kids
Rosa and Paige.
The years go by they're growing with age
and noticing their parents marriage is falling apart
and that love is a fine art
a canvas of the heart.
Little Rosa is the oldest
thinking that boys are the coldest.
Fights between her mom and dad she has noticed.
When she's older she'll learn
that its part of the process
and the world will still turn
with or without her protest
Paige has got the blue eyes
in the family of brown,
she's three years old
and barely a frown was written on her face
Rosa looks down at her sister with pride
they look nothing alike
but the feeling inside
can never be replaced.
and mom and dad are still married
getting carried down the river
holes in the boat
fixing leaks one by one
trying for a son
still having fun.
Shooting for the stars with a silver lined gun.
Wake up in the morning,
I don’t know what I’m doing by pursuing what I’m not.
I think I’ll be wasted in this plot.
This story is forming knots around my neck.
I second guess what paragraph I’m on,
lacking respect for myself.
The quiet me is filling with anxiety,
so my health’s denying me
the energy to crop this pain out the picture.
So I’m not sane,
I'm just praying that I’m lost
what I’m paying is the cost
of ignoring the voices
that are saying that our calling is from our self worth
A warning in the dirt will ensue.
I wish I knew this is from the start but. nah
the process is the star
we only comprehend after
The feeling of crying with laughter
Laughter with crying
all releasing the same tears
The rain clears
And now it's 7.30 in the morning.
I don't know is what is next
All I know is that i'm stalling
Look at our daughter
Innocent until, proven otherwise
we'd kill to be as wise,
those little eyes are brown.
Focused on her crown,
a queen that rules over nobody,
she’s seen the beauty so far
but the ugliness is close.
Yet we’re so far from understanding
that standing on this earth means opposites occur,
and the worst thing we can do
is place our own
anxieties on her
that she can’t own.
All the things that could
knock you her off her throne.
I think we should just
appreciate these moments that we have.
when we see our fate
we can't get any back,
and when we look
closely at her face
she's everything we lack.
We try to wrap her up in cotton wool
to make her insoluble.
it's what we pull
but our purpose is to nurture
not deter what's next.
Because it’s coming
stop running from the universal law,
it's not a curse at all
Its what we call
a marriage in the fall