Tuesday, 4 September 2018

Why Wouldn't You Love Me?

Excuse me if I don't get it
Excuse me if I think you'll regret it
Excuse me if my face doesn't fit into your Instagram aesthetic
Excuse me if you find my writing increasingly bathetic
But my love could be perfect for you if you just let it

So let it
And yesterday?
Forget it

You've just got to keep moving
It doesn't matter if you're merely ageing or actually improving
Don't analyze it
You've just got to keep going
We know our end destination
But the roads we have to take along the way
We've no way of knowing

But please
Do us both a favour
And take them with me.

Sunday, 26 August 2018


Imagine being born to wealth and never needing a thing. 
What a marvelously horrid child must inevitably spring. 
What a way to live your life - devoid of all suffering, 
Devoid of the growth, the aspiration and the hope that it brings. 

So whenever you see a rich christian - my friend do not be stumped. 
We are all just rats, but some of us are born at the dump. 

A rat born at the dump doesn't know the torture, 
Of living life on constant edge from the impending threat of slaughter
It doesn't know what sacrifice is.
It doesn't know that bad choices have consequences. 
It doesn't know what it feels like to hunger,
To cry in the cold whilst the sky cracks with thunder
To want something desperately just to see it be plundered
Or to watch someone wealthy want for nothing in wonder

So pity it, as you see it cavorting upon a yacht off the coast of Spain
Pity it, as you nurse your nugget of existential pain
Pity it, as perfect as it seems -
Life is even more miserable with no sadness in between.

So whenever you see a rich conservative talking enthusiastically about Trump -
Remember we are all just rats, but some of us are born at the dump. 


I'm horrible. I'm starving.
I'm growing up as no one's darling -
I feed on dirt and crumbs
Decidedly dumb:
Living lonely takes one's tongue.
And I rub against the world until I'm done
Until my final song is sung.

Wednesday, 22 August 2018

Onslow Knows Now He's Kicked The Bucket

I miss the silence
The window box on my sill growing hyacinth and violets
The way the sun shone in and looked for me
Wondering warmly what I might like to be

Now it's dark and the noises in my mind
Ask me constant questions about the emptiness I hold inside
And the misery has eaten away at all my time
All that time wasted fighting my own mind

The sun no longer looks for me where I hide
And no one on earth would even notice if I died.

I Guess We'll Call Him Spike

Everyone has left you and so you desperately hope
That you will find yourself at the bottom of a bottle instead of at the end of a rope
And you would laugh at yourself but irony says that on the sounds you'll choke
And anyway, you're sick of everyone acting as if life is just a joke
So you lay on the floor wondering if the ceiling will give you what you crave
Collapse and send a beam of wood hurtling halfway through your brain

Thursday, 9 August 2018

Bless This Mess

It's a mess. Low down within her chest. It's a mess. It's butterflies churning and flying pests.
It's the world against her heart - her zest. It's twisting her up and causing her distress. It's a mess. She'll never think that she is blessed. She'll never allow herself to rest. She's pressed, some days she can barely bring herself to dress, she's stifled by the agitating stress, of wondering why everyone is so possessed, to achieve and accomplish such finesse. It's like they were all given answers but all she can ever do is guess.


I'm over it, I'm over you. I've finished feeling like we should be one not two. I've finished feeling - there's clots in my heart. I've finished feeling like we should never be apart. I've finished with lies and I'm finished with life. I've finished feeling like you should be my wife. I've finished with trying, doing, drudging, stalling. I'm finished with breathing, all I want to be is falling.

Never Change

Of course you will, your heart will harden, your smile soften and your hopes will darken. Just these years when you are young, are all you'll have to look back upon. Just these few innocent years, until life is scratching, toiling, and running from your fears, filling buckets up with your desperate tears, and debts which keep you in arrears. I touch your face and smile along, I couldn't bear to tell you that you're wrong. I couldn't bear to unburden myself of the truth, and stain the fleeting purity of your youth.

Another Hit For The Road

Regular instillings of compliments kill me
Another month another year
That that's all I have left
Has become my greatest fear.
Everything gets scarier the more that I grasp
Holding on to nothing was such an easy task
Now I'm burrowed so deeply within my lover's heart
That my death would tear her entire world apart
That life goes on and I'll never get to see
The promises my children's faces made to me
That I'll never see their lives ever truly start
Their unwept tears haunt me in the dark.
I should appreciate what I have instead
But I'm always aware of the sword of Damocles hovering overhead
Love is life's greatest twist,
The more you have, the more you fear it will be missed.

(with @M.S.Valentine (Instagram))

Monday, 30 July 2018

Let's We Forget

No one looks for you anymore. Nobody searches. There is just a wall with with your name and the birdsong as dirges. The leaves and the shrubs have grown wild upon you, no one cares, no one is left to lift the vines that string and strangle upon the stairs. Only fifty years passed before you were forgotten, before they deemed your body immovable and rotten. Now you are lost, with nothing to show, but a headstone left crumbling, in the dark, overgrown.

Thursday, 5 July 2018


When no one likes me, that's when I'll be free. That's when I'll be feeling totally and wholly carefree. That's when I'll be over that desperation, that craving notion that nobody wants me. I am ready to fade. From the role of my life to become an absentee. To be as synonymous with background as a painting of a landscape featuring a tree. I am ready for you to forget me. I am ready to sink back and be one of the surging faceless people moving across platforms from one train to the next. Disappearing into indifference, book-ended by regrets.

Length And Breath

Are we so far apart that death will never do us part? Are we so wildly different that these are just lies we're together whispering? I want to find the tree of life, nail you against it and hear you whimpering, as the world around you turns to dust and the skulls of all the folks we ever knew are gaily glistening. I want to watch the earth and everything end. I want to watch the universe fissuring. I want to watch it all with you and make sure you're listening - when I tell you I never loved you and I leave you lonely lingering.

Friday, 15 June 2018

This One Sucks

Your soft pink lips. The corner of your eyelid tips. Where the soul inside your meatbag sits. Where the air and light and colour slips. My gaze sucks on like little thrips, desperately thirsty for their weekly hit. Instead they get that petrol spritz, and fall down dead like fattened ticks.

Tuesday, 16 January 2018

Number 3

I can't help but feel like it's the end of our days
The world is floating by in a distant haze
And you keep saying it is only a phase
While I hold onto cheap memories of us, as the orange sunset turns to gray.