you tell me to wipe my hands
my dirty little paws
and wipe my mouth
and walk, don’t run.
you know me like I don’t know myself
and see danger before I do.
I’ll graduate to that level too
just wait awhile
your little girl will grow up.
the masterplan of drawingboards
you tell me to wipe my hands
my dirty little paws
and wipe my mouth
and walk, don’t run.
you know me like I don’t know myself
and see danger before I do.
I’ll graduate to that level too
just wait awhile
your little girl will grow up.
It’s a chilly night and the city lights
make me want to twirl and dance in circles
you may not be with me
but it sure feels cosy.
.
I imagine it’s snowing stars
the ones we picked out while we were at the beach
and it’d be like christmas everyday
except it’s reality.
.
hope it’s you on the phone
that I’ll have a home with you
with days we can live out endless possibilities
I’m allowed to dream, let me.
.
As I lie in bed before I sleep
and it’s quiet and I come alive
of coloured walls and cutlery
and plans for eternity.
.
I’d pick your clothes and you pick mine
tighten your tie or wish you goodbye
and know that you’ll be back at the end of the day
you’ll be home.
.
pray we’ll always be together
held up in each other
with days we can live out endless possibilities
I’m allowed to dream, let me.
You don’t visit this place, I think, but in any case, thank you. For your disapproval and ellipses enunciated, then retracted when you listened to me. For sitting by my table those days I came in gloom, which would be almost everyday. For rejoicing with me, finally.
In the old I find my faith restored
and some endings being sold.
Under wooden signage of offered deals
the realization lives on.
Maybe it wasn’t the time to carry on,
but now the ends have met again.
Like the broken string I made, we mend
and it’s crawling trips and dreams on land.
.
To my brown-eyed girl, with love.
On the road of time
along the streets of forgotten grime,
I’d walked alone, never turning behind.
I didn’t realize.
.
I put my feet on the line even while my palms faced behind
Run so far, I’d come to believe the road I’d past was mere history
Couldn’t see the signs that touched my eyes
or the sounds that tried,
or the dreams magnified.
Invisibly visible like a dream in the fog.
.
Reaching roots that planted my feet firmly in the ground whenever I ran,
from the world and myself,
And shadowy branches that provided direction
and foliage that took care.
I kept you in my pocket, sewn into my wounds,
because it kept the emotions from spilling out.
.
go home, little girl.
.
Who knows what this life will bring, stranger things have happened.
Under the rock I found some sand and inside every grain
the world created, melted and redeveloped,
and in it flowers died and bore fruit.
I held my life, something I’d put in your hands
because time no longer mattered.
As it began, so it shall end. I was born to do this, and if it takes my life, so it shall be. For though the end may be life condemned, I couldn’t deviate if my feet did. You were my life and will be the death of me.
To my all kinds of awesome, who I called crying one night.
I wish I learnt to speak before I grew dumb,
to show before I lost my limbs.
To forget my fundamental movements,
before I learnt to pick the knife without fear.
To lose my limbs before I wanted to slice myself, cleanly open.
To convert myself into a mere picture, at the morgue,
into black and white, old school film.

To a friend, who I think has been a gift to my life. Through coffee and strange men, sideburns and balls that can’t be thrown over fences, postcards of Cambridge, love, life and lament.
You’re awesome.
It’s really, really quiet and it’s almost close to morning
I turn the blankets inside out and creep out to go running
Coz in the silence all I hear
is my own breathing
and it’s easy again, so easy.
.
For the people fade from reach
I’m alone and all I want with me is my own footsteps
Even shadows disappear.
And my mind is clear
I’m looking for home,
gone all quiet.
.
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