Thursday, 15 October 2009
Friday, 25 September 2009
Monday, 21 September 2009
How many lights do you see?
How many lights do you see?
There's one that waits for closing time
And there's one that gets left on all night
And there's one that marks the western sky
And it shines down on the quiet street
And there's one that floods the darker parts
And there's one that hurts my tired eyes
And there's one that says she's not asleep
And there's one that waits for her to wake.
Monday, 24 August 2009
Monday, 10 August 2009
Wednesday, 29 July 2009
I feel at home here in the middle of nowhere. I will never know the names of these places that I travel through to reach the coastline. I've been told I will be there in time.
Monday, 27 July 2009
Sunday, 12 July 2009
I'm finding it really hard to just act like i don't give a fuck.
This isn't some big thing, i'm probably reading you all wrong.
I do that sometimes/often.
I would like for everything to be normal.
That, or i'd like you to talk to me.
Communication, that's the key.
Cause i'm kinda struggling to feel ok when you don't tell me how you feel.
Thursday, 2 July 2009
we escape from the house as the day disappears from the sky into night we became what we wanted to be like a dream or a ghost i collapse out of turn near a house lying still in the grass and felt the heat from the ground rising up to contract and expand like a breath we escape from that place soaked with sweat and the poison we drank fill the bathtub with ice and hope this fever will break like a heart easily but i do not recall all the words that were formed on those wire lips as they greeted me a promise was made without thought as the temperature climbed and i started to sink like the moon tends to do if you stare at it too long then you blink and its gone and we crawl to our sleep with the dawn and isn't it the same mistake? it's not much of an escape and isn't it the same? i awake in the light feeling hollow and selfishly warm close the blinds and retreat until what is burning is gone and it's light is away then we are back in the dark chasing nothing through backyards and trees you ripped your shirt on a fence but it didn't get me yeah it's fear it makes you slow and these creatures look crooked their shadows cut lines through my face and the concrete is fire where my bare feet are placed in a line next to yours and i guess i'm not sure if it was fear that was born as those awful eyes made their claim on us i put my hands on the fence said your name and i started to climb and it must have been sweat but i drank it like wine it was sweet and my mouth was dry i heard you scream but i made no reply i can still taste it now if i try.
Sunday, 7 June 2009
I arrived in the city and you met me at the station, smiling in a way that made me frightened. Down the alley, around the arcade, up the stairs of the building to the little room with the broken faucets, your drawings, all your things. I looked out the window and said this doesnt look too different from home, because it didnt't, but then I noticed the black sky and all those lights. We walked through the house to the elevated train. All these buildings, all that glass and the shiny beautiful mechanical wind. We were inside the train car when I started to cry. You were crying too, smiling and crying in a way that made me even more hysterical. You said I could have anything I wanted, but I just couldnt say it out loud.