fun,

It seems intoxicating a self is the only entertainment for spoilt minds.

Are we all really that bored?

Clouds moving to make British mountains, appears to be light. Today I'll be the wind, cold wash over your pale skin.
All life like beings consumed by the trees, my lungs feel hollow without leaves keeping green. We are shadows of something beautiful.
The stars were born above us, before us, now they're falling into the eyes of the sea. Swim beneath me and into my blood before the sun evaporates my silky pores.
Serein skys, it's almost light. I'll crumble into the day to watch your face change, leave my heart in a seed and plant it outside your window.
Roots under your house, i doubt you'll even notice the cracks upon the walls. Ruffled petals, falling..we're all just threads below ground.

what to do when

You're a bullet and
I'm a bird.

to be continued

I've blocked my windows with books so fiction can seep in with the sunlight..

found draft

half moon
half sky
half night
half light.

smoking my lungs dry

finished, not so.

No smooth lines in my bed.
In my head,
collections of pictures i stole from your face.
I do not own, a single eye lash
the way i like, what i like.
You gently tear them
and they fall like butterflies
onto my stomach.
That noise, those noises
talking to you.

We're a stream of permanence,


I can't commit,
to..anything.

6 am

Stiff fingers
'Imperfections and flaws'
you're flawless to me
Dry airwaves
Coughs and cups of tea


The sound of you living kept me awake
now i'm too tired to sleep....