Deluded-Dreamer

it is an established fact like how roses die and peaches rot and ink fades that i am a meteor heading full on towards you                                             (i never could turn cartwheels) with impact imminent and an oil rig crew playing dress up spacemen cant stop me now. in my dream i woke up dead  because in dreams everything is possible continued to jump off the pier  there was shrapnel in the sea into the bla

i feel all out of place, like my insides have been switched all upside down or like i'm a penguin on the moon or a morse code transmitter on a bus. we can tap tap away with d.o.t.s and d-a-s-h-e-s and yet we are never heard becuase we are on the moon and sound doesnt travel too well in space. my new favourite word is enjambment because i enjoy using it in things that i write. i got it wrong. sound doesnt travel in space at all. which means scenes where the spaceship blows up and there is this bang, its wrong because my heart went boom and no one heard and so they shouldnt hear a spaceship, whether its in space or not. im

this is me noticing the way you havnt shaved and the badge on your chest  {although you cant play anymore} this is me seeing your knuckles and the necklace hanging just to the left  {yingyang, your missing a bead} this is me hearing your heartbeat and knowing how comic sans MS should read  {because sometimes you need a keyboard to say it} this is me tasting roll-your-own and this mornings coffee-milk-two-sugars on your lips  {you promised to give up, your doing ok} this is me smelling your aftershave  {i know you havnt shaved} and fresh air and mud on your top  {you havnt played in that team for years} and this is me

 nine letters to nine people that i should send and consequently never will dear you. my hair is lilac. it used to be purple but the colour faded like the colour drained from your skin. my summer skin is kissed with freckles and splattered with bruises, where as yours was splattered with rainbows of ink and clouds of blood. dear you. you could speak three languages. your first, english, learnt from your mother. your second, heartbreak, inflicted from your father. your third, love, you said you were taught by me, (though i remember no lessons) and you insisted to speak it to everyone but me. i can speak one language. it is yours and only

i have a habbit of not telling the right people the right things and the right time and fucking everything up rather royally. i write these things down now instead, leave them lying round the place in hope some stranger will find them and it'll make their day. nine letter to nine people, because nine is a nicer number than 10. you read them over my shoulder read them and thought they were all about him and told me, with an added nudge to my soresore elbow that i should send them. i should. which is why i never will send them. and so it was we kept going in circles like the turn of the earth or the way you used to run through my head.

im sat against the radiator and its burning my back and the ash is spreading to my arms. ++++ im stabbing an a3 book with sharpies in hope to reduce it to a colourful death and along the street not across cos that would send you to a ward not the morgue and thats where we will all end up in this life like a bad back being burnt against the stone cold metal slab of a burning radiator. ++++

sometimes i think the universe was joking when i came out with me. that's what i am: a  c o s m i c  joke. you you are orange cross-processed air and far away stars and laughter like a match being struck. you you're like a cracked mirror broken but i could still see enough in the pieces to realise what's behind me. you you're like coffins for dead flowers and cave paintings: rare, thoughtful, and yet somehow primitive.

just another  m a s k  in an endless sea of faces. another  s h a r d  of glass. a clock that  c a n ' t  keep time. the  c l o u d  on your blue sky. i am the first lightbulb attempt but you never were as optimistic as eddison. the fallen feather  s n a g g e d  on barbed wire. i am the bruise that stays for weeks as a green mistake on your perfect skin. i am the barcodes that never scan and that you always get. i am the w e a k e s t link in your newest ~c~h~a~i~n~~m~a~i~l~. i am the alarm that goes off at one.two.three o'clock in the morning because you can't figure out how it works.

we walked to the edge of space and holding hands jumped from this place. silence kill you as you sail away. hope devour the sound in your veins. scars are you rope around your neck. music blinded your soft embrace. silence keep you as you flail away. light devours the love in your veins. feathers falling down after me. i want to be caught by you. silence find you as you fall away. id still love you if you died today.