Please please please

Three and half thousand miles apart two people share the same thought at the same time and the premise of distance evapourates in front of them as its steam rises through the same beautiful particles. It all at once becomes real. To be shared. To be held. Within the confines of the bodybag. Discussed internally in moments of bright sunshine. Picture perfect scenes. Moments of clarity. Moments to be experienced, provoked, discussed. The characters are honest. The characters are clinging on and crazy. Pausing in the sidewalk sunshine watching herds of hurried people scurry by. Their faces easily forgotten without names. Figures history is only valid if its known. Bouncing pictures of beautiful serenity between McMurphy's tenderness and my locked eye. Click. Click. Click. Click. Fingers press through screen to hold the others. Fractal images of self interest. Designed to be flawed as nurture draws nature and these parents for one are very much mistaken. These thoughts swept aside for another intertwined crescendo. He once believed that tenderness was developed with the sharing of air. Company time spent bearing witness to shared decisions, opinions and reactions. Where trust builds itself a home in your heart. Growing from tiny seed to tree. Growing for all to see. It built a coffin in his chest. In its grain their name's are etched. For all to see. He needs her there. More than anyone else. For her honesty. Enter a stranger who dreamt of him and his beautiful wife at one of mother's dinner parties. Announcing his baby born jaundiced at a table filled with food. His features dimmed, as yet unknown, the role filled with presumption. Glorious uncertainty. His future was marked in a dusty box labelled now.

All that remains.

My father's anger died with him
At the breakfast table lost for words.
From here it seems like a distant dream
Back where I broke and began again.

And all the good times
And all the laughter
Drift into the ether,
like dissolving particles in a chemical reaction.

As broken english interjects
the cold stone walls.
Painting glimpses of sentences
of tones and textures.
My psyche fills the gaps
colouring by numbers,
staggering forth to a new set of lows.

(my thoughts are too loud to sleep)

when inspiration hits
forcing sleep for tomorrow perpetual workdeath.

when inspiration hits
driving car full of men that make you too scared to speak.

when inspiration hits
driven flacid dull sea in the place that hope comes to die.

when inspiration hits
blame anyone but yourself but believe that is taking blame.

when inspiration hits
dance red and purple across the grapevines of this desolate county painting pictures of time on the windy cliffs of my nightmares.

when the inspiration hits
(still see your face on my eyelids)

indulge me

Back to the old. No fun in the city tonight. Back to the old school. Smeared stumble vision. Chemically forced smile. Drained of resistance. The love is bile. You won't feel anything by morning. The love is a lie. The smell you still feel by day three even after long showers. Curse yourself for feeling. Feel every person you ever told smiling pity upon your shoulders. These people keep holding me. Relinquish your grip. I wished myself freedom. Stumbling. Interaction. Not original enough not to. Take this heartache. no really.

indulge me. these days by nico

i remembered i had this today- its been a while. Its funny how things change. You want the best thing imaginable to happen to someone other than yourself. Yet you can't say it aloud for fear of. (the tip of your tongue) I have identified shortcomings recently. Although doubt and insecurity once recognised, begins to doubt itself, circling the same sorry circles relentless. Not confirmed or denied searching the skies for validation. Its been a while. To have not burned bridges or watch as bridges burn. This distance. You know to say i want the best is to know that i am not the best. To continue, the only path, strive to be somebody worthy of that love. She said you're crazy and i said yes. You remember all the things she said. I lost two people today. A car fought a tree and lost. I remember no bitter words. Emerging from seconds that last hours those soft kisses that felt like forever. Every cell bursting. Minds eye widening to make my fingers feel like sense's heightened and dimmed simultaneously keeping shoes off of bedsheets and holding locked eyes. I wonder from where these words rise, a lost evening with beers and plenty spoken memories. The night Sam did that. The night Darren did what? gosh. I am trying to be more confident in myself. Its hard when you cannot turn your brain from every possible outcome. Its hard when people who have never indulged you with conversation delve into themselves and assume arrogance from their own insecurity. You try to be genuine. You never lie. You never cheat. And you hope. In the black out. You judge others by your own standards. You were not playing games but frantic and reaching out, hoping, with every shout like ringing ears killing cells. You hear nothing except i've been trying to find the words. In bunkers and in barriers remain calm. I justified my actions because i hadn't heard. I justified my actions because i assumed i'd get a response. In bunkers and in barriers please remain calm. Y'know no-one, all is well, just put your hands upon my face. They call you an idiot and a sap. You say so what. I'm honest.
(you hope she finds the notes she left and that they make her smile)

When the corners of your eyes blur and redefine what you once interpreted as a constant truth. As all we hold dear recoils with this new perception of events as a startling whole. It all adds up to nothing. As we are an informal process. A blip on the landscape. So we treat our brothers as we treat ourselves. I saw you still clinging to a past we all stepped away from struggling. Maybe so distorted as to be unaware of the infinite truth. You are an ______. You are no longer defined by the same rules. And i am more worried than i've ever been and i've never been less able to effect a change. You're lashing out. You're not the same. Its beyond the occassion. No longer will a detox change these new crosswired internal guidelines that determine your decisions. Year after year after year. Stability on dependance. I just want to be alone. I've got nothing lets get drunk. What the hell happened to you guys are no fun. You grew up? Fuck you. Lash out. Take the money. Lose respect. See a friend post it on the web.

Explanations.

Aching heart provides contradiction with circumstance to open. Undiscussion of each condition that led to this padlocked box of hopeless romance. Unwilling to unburden yet aching to burst. Wetting cheeks at the very beauty of the first reckless occasion. This is why i keep it vaguely hidden honesty. And the danger that it brings. I don't know if i dare to open my heart to failure that's why i dare not lean in to caress you. One split second skin contract pupils dilate and fate becomes the plank i walk on. Sharks circle. Every step becomes harder to take. Emotion. Linked to past experience. Pain. Allow yourself to feel. Maybe. I dare not tie you to my heart. For fear of. Sharks circle. And the water is too deep for what it is. I'm tied to the memories. I can't shake the circumstance. Yet I can't stop pursuing you. I'll be the moth flying at the candle. Scared of burning its wings. Yet aching to be held in the light. Hanging from the words. Still glowing from your smiling eyes and not even ashamed of that fact. You and the music. Intrinsic. Empathy. Feeling. I want to know every idiosyncrasy. Before the sun comes up and i have to go. Days later and I'm still floating on the moment i became aware i was talking animated and you were smiling through a pint glass not allowing our eyes to unlock.