Desolate Stars

Invisible mind's boxes, tied tightly with feathered bows,and treasured dreams kissed with a promise and written in distant symbols, scribbled in the backs of hands to remind me.
It's my favourite time of year, winter's Gold and summer's Blue skies at night, the sounds of my dreams like the pouring rain. I can feel the weight of the entire world, even the seas and it's glassy intricacy.
All the fire in my heart can't keep me warm, not tonight. Smoke rises and swirls around me, enveloping my skin in a wild texture. There's something strang in this dismal part of existence (I can't tell what)
I was on a mountain, in the middle of time with lightand stars that poured over my eyes. I saw my reflection through the glass, and it felt strange (the dicolouration of wax)and i sat on the rocks, by the sweet smoked sand. Nothing else to say then. Only to smile at the waves under the desolate stars.

I wish i could

Breathing seems hard, it makes me laugh, my mistakes under the
Ripe sun, marrying a life of love- staying for that first look,
Pulling back the curtains to bring in the light.
So bright is your light
And strong, eyes pour into mine, tears that I try to wipe away;
You pour your soul into me
With your thoughts and dreams. I wish I had.
It can't be so wrong
I swear I heard you say no, on that day of contentment
I wish me back to that;
Dry days in green
Golden skies with stars, fly with the wind
What does it mean to stand beside someone?
I can never tell, it confuses me till my ribs break
And I feel dizzy
These thoughts make me drunk.
Now my house Is full of water, they came through the door
When you showed up.
You wept on my shoulder and stopped running, I wish I could fly for the both of us.
But I can't, its not enough to just care

An open letter to you

My thoughts rattle in my brain, and thick knots tie around my eyes and my skin making breathing harder (like a speeded bullet)

So what if I’m a child whispering in the dark and reading aloud, till the endings rhyme…like a child under a kaleidoscope. You said dreamers lie and so you must never have seen a sunrise, my friend. I’m not the branded deceit, fumbling in a misguided ecstasy of winter gold and night-time teas, to hear screaming and laughter made by whom?

Who varnished this day-dream under the yellow-paged moon, and brought wordless nights of heated nothings? Fickle hearts can’t be alone and a lie is not a bad word when it comes from a stranger. Now it just makes me laugh to think of it… all those wasted teas

pointless petty war

Before you know, the moon divides across the skies
The shallow light blinding, asleep and deadened
Earthquake under the sea, dreams whistling in the air
What does it mean to be asleep? winding in the wind
I can see a different march, peaceful blues inside of grey-
choking up our lungs