Mouth full of words
That you never really heard,
When all we do is play pretend
The whole game seems absurd.

The nights are getting cold.
You’re brave and oh so bold
And while it might seem somehow wrong
You’ll still have me to hold.

I won’t push my luck
But it seems the name has stuck

You heard, you heard
Not my words but theirs
And I can hear the rumours,
Feel the knowing stares
And even though I don’t, maybe
Maybe I should care.

I’m not a test, a game,
You and I are not the same.
Play the part of broken heart;
It follows with my fame.
Your regret is my shame.

I can speak with violent voice,
I can make an awful noise.
You heard I’m heartless, vicious bastard,
I fight like one of the boys.
I am not your toy.

I wish you’d played nice
Because I won’t trust you twice.

 You heard, you heard

Not my words but theirs
And I can hear the rumours,
Feel the knowing stares
And even though I don’t, maybe
Maybe I should care
About the name, about the fame,
About the stories circulating.
Maybe I should make a change,
But there’s no sense in wasting time
When your hand is on my thigh
And you press your lips to mine.

I’m not a bad person;
I can be much worse than this. 

As the final year has passed
The hands moved jolting, rusting,
Marking the hour with a harsh strike.
Something hidden had failed;
so used to repetition, pattern,
That it wore down, broke through
Unnoticed. The way you used to be
Counting the seconds and wishing time away
Can only be memory, the ghost
Of beloved routine, sunbleached and faded
And I only wish I knew what makes you tick. 

Articulate innocent,                      The drugs in my blood
On paper, on page,                      Numbed mumbling lips.
But my mouth moulds                 Tripping syllables
Other stuttering stories               Mirror mind and movement.

The broken wheel comes clicking round,
Once more we brought you back here.
The slower sins that we commit
Are the ones out here we wear
And I found time, let them drip from my tongue
And begged “No more. No, more.”

My tracks had led the wanderer in,
They don’t hear the wheel, his call,
No barrow of ripened fruit
No need to care of rot, no fear
Of hounds that hide through doorways,
Those who enjoy the freefall.

Such grey is comfort to me now,
A wheel, a ring; round, round, round.
A court of sparrows told me so
And sentenced me, and I was blown
To in-between, blessed mediocrity,
Away from the rock-face hewn.

I am not the last of mine,
(All my steps pulled back, refrain)
We come together, over, over,
Relishing in where we’ve been
If it is wrong, pluck out my eye,
But I will only crave the taste again. 

I have not bought a train ticket.
I just wanted a cigarette.
A bird is a bird,
Lure me out again.
I thought you were purifying,
But sweetheart, oh how my hands ache.

Go get your car keys and drive me
Straight down to the sea.
I can wait for waves.
You and I can lie on the sand.
It’s an open invitation;

A gathering of broken shells,
Abandoned buildings.
(Bring your own backbone)
I think that I’m watching instead
Of waking up with a notebook,

Holes written into the affair.
Decades of dawn reign.
Ask an empty house
And the walls shall creak in reply.
Preparing for what we can’t see,
She wants God after eighteen years. 

Counting the tiles on the ceiling,
I thank whoever is Up There for
The sweet gift of music, as I drown
Sobs and cries leaking through walls.
Even here I can’t shake them off,
Clinging as acrid smoke to clothes,
To my things, my hair, to my skin.

Each tile is another prayer to leave
My head, a prayer to transcend
Higher than human consciousness,
For touches, for tongues,
(And they rarely get answered)
A prayer that the chemicals
Will keep me distracted.

Kindness never was a comfort zone I could escape to,
It always felt so alien, and left me numb and bored.
Cold kept me awake; I prayed you understood my meaning,
I always knew poetry was much more than staying warm.
I held that line inside my hand, your voice kept in my head,
Waited for the day that my tongue would get to know its taste,
But thieves and liars got there first and burned the flavour out
So palms held to the sky, I sighed “So much for keeping safe.”
Now when the wind blows over me I do not feel a thing
And long for days gone by when we had marvelled at its strength.
If I had taught you anything, I hope that it rings true.
I believe in lessons, I don’t believe in an end. 

Now I am a thief;
I have stolen away
What others crave.
I took on a challenge
Of which I am afraid,
Have no use for;
No small or easy
Work for idle hands.

I’m not sure any more
Which “me” I speak for.
I refuse to believe
That the drink
Made me think
It’d be fine. I
Swallowed slow and
Steady, watched
The world go by,
Sure my eyes
Took everything in
Straight and sharp
For once, for once.

Guilt is sat here
And refuses to
Be shaken at all,
And it could be
caught-up-in-
the-moment, but
There are these
Tremors in the floor;
Earthquake approaching.