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Therapy.

It’s in the clatter of quiet
that my brain aches – vessels
of muchness swell with
a feeling of not much
at all.
It perplexes me a little. There’s
a lot to be said for the black
chair that absorbs me
from consciousness; allowing
me to embrace a face of time
that watches me from
the shadows of his glasses
as careful words string
from his tongue
Perhaps he thinks I’m delusional.
Perhaps.

Perhaps.

Shine On

Tell me in silence
I won’t leave this behind me
Maybe you are hoping
that I choke
on the words

You talk in tongues of foreign
Hand gestures, newly borrowed
and smile a smile that’s
littered with a thousand
old spun kisses

There’s a dance that can’t be found
A place we used to visit
and I wonder if you see those
lights that glittered in your
eyes

How do I turn those lights off
and bathe in blessed blackness
How do I turn that switch
from this well lit
remembered mode

Because lights unshared are
blinding
They flick in slumber
Sleeping

Keeping you awake and
real and here
Inside my head

The Killing of The Cheshire Cat

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Laughter lines lost in darkness
Sharpness drawn in and up
with a pencil
Stencilling happiness upon a face
like those dolls; all china and lace
and like every other.
Only you discovered a hairline
fracture
Captured a
glimpse of a secret smile, within – worn and thin
with nothing but
honesty
Lined in imperfect lipstick
and now, your kiss

Scribbles with a guitar

I can feel the pulse set in my
arm
disarming my head
from thoughts, to sleep

Upon this makeshift pillow
I’m wondering
what secrets you hold but keep.

Cold truths bed down here
beside me
behind you, so it seems

you just seem to have forgotten
truly you’ve forgotten
where it is safe for them to be.

And I can hear you laughing, laughing and
dancing in the street.
I hear the beautiful burst of tomorrow
throbbing in your feet

Know that I’m charmed to know it’s your daytime
your time to take the day
as I lie
looking at your secrets

The cosy
tucked up little secrets
that you left right here

next to me.

I miss you – not like lingering
kisses and skin, touching skin

Like thunder

Rolling thunder

And today she cracks the whip

Play the Ground.

I’m out of step
He’s a cock sure bastard, hazard
me a guess
Is it his greasy lightning
frightening the kiddies in
their beds?
And he gets lazy
Walks amongst all those distant
Dreams
Laughing at strangers, howling
because they don’t
Want to see him drawing
hopscotch with my
heart.
And now there’s nothing left to do but to depart.

The day

Stirring
learning a new day in an empty bed
Eyes close again to see
your face lace my pillow
skin on skin
I smell your scent

Closed eyes bring cruelty
and I, knowing full well that you
are nothing but past tense, open
them wide and find a cold, empty
space.

Down the stairs for coffee and
We are with me again.
It’s this brain, you see.
Relentless. Heartless.

Mine. Singing with living ghosts.

The phone rings and it is not you
but I smile through as I
remember the laughter that
once flowed in this same
place

Catching sight of my own
reflection, pulling back

Forward

Time to pretend the day away

Just again, like all the rest.

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