My dear sweet Sadness, 

Sadness that is mine alone, 

too rich and deep for sharing. 

All the things that can not be said, 

Clawing excitably inside me.

Sadness weeping gleefully at her own misfortune.

Poor Childish heart,

Broken, human, beating breath.

wanting to be tired out

full feeling needing bleeding

Silent, Holy, Living Heart. 

listening to the dreaming

You leaned in close as if you were trying to hear the song I told you I couldn't get out of my head. But suddenly all I could hear is your silence, and it is so deep and so sweet and so clear, I can still hear it now if I listen.

Hold on

I've got nothing but miracles up my sleeves baby, 

never forget the power of living flesh, a moments breath.

Never forget these arms connect straight in to my heart. 

mothing natters

I have to let myself go
over and beyond the call
of time tickling my outsides
laughing so hard, at how soft real life is.

however It is with not without sadness,
that I look out from this shell
Upon this beautiful mess of my soul
leaked across every fathom of space,
that I come to the conclusion
I probably never existed in the first place.

And yet even this sweet sorrow
for this small (no)thing I called myself
can console me
Personally and or transcendently
because really,
 Nothing matters
maybe it's the only thing that does.

all the things I must forget

I remember nothing,
The warp and the weave of it, the feel of it underneath my fingers.
I remember it exactly how I wanted it;
and how exactly it is.

Now when I try to find where I put down my keys,
my phone,
my life,
nothing consumes me.

And when you ask me how I am
I have nothing much to say.

xo

writing about

to say, more & less
inconcisely
without constant censure
to write right about
hungry words
 ( easily distracted)
tired of the deep
where everything is unevenly weighted against
this speech
which Could never be free
costing at least the air that I breath
not to mention the mess inside my head
tying strings around two moons
moving in different orbits
ruining everything together
misspelled, bad magic
dreaming I'm asleep
always deeper
staring stirring me up
mastering my personal misunderstandings with gravity
falling upwards
into endless blinding light.

time folds, crinkles, crumples and falls around my ankles
Seducing me with the poetry of this uneven and unfair breath.

Impossible even, oddly ruthless, yet worth more always more.

The juxtaposition of coming and going
Painfully, hopelessly, a special kind of aching
sweet soft tissues, hardly holding me in
to have no Idea, especially not this one.

intimately, anatomically, inane
insane & excited

Because everything means everything
every god damn blessed bit.

Make me

Dreaming playing paying sprouting
words on walls and pavements
dead unsaid unmeaning
the darkness sprawled scrawled
in the middle of the night
Just saying, you don't know
just how fucking happy
I could feel if I wanted to.

every very

These words are not what I want
and yet I want for what I have no words.
And oh how I've waited,
and waited
for the world to end
or for you to say something
or something, like this, but not this
God no

the feelings crack and roll
my ribs
my tongue
tangled all the way through you
through everything we loved and fought for
and life itself
a ticking time bomb
set inside my own dear heart.

My own dear heart
Do you read me? can you hear me?
Dear heart come in, come home,
come closer
I want to breathe you the fuck in
and swallow you whole
as if my life did not depend upon it
as if I did not live just for your every very beat.

Dreamspoken

Night after night after day after night
the poetry I want pours into
the things that don't make sense
and God rewrites his secret codes
in a particular humour
like this joke that is my life

But not my only life,
because I never planned to only live once
but over and over and under and all the way through
Until neither of us even care which way is up
because I'm already breathing here
deep underwater, giving the dream away.

the pulse of life

keeping a finger on the pulse of life requires a little sensitivity,
if you have to slash your wrist in order to find it you won't be able to hold it there for long.

The man who stole the face of God

when we stormed the gates of heaven,

I didn't understand

Just how forgiving God could be

I didn't imagine

how heavy it might be to bear the one true face

I didn't know he'd let you have

more than we could carry back

I didn't realise you'd be willing to die to keep it.

exciting and insistent

These words are all I know and all I have to offer
take them in your precious hands
let them shine in your eyes and whisper 
quietly but constantly in your ear
exciting and insistent; 
"You are it".

Pour them over your head and let them loose over your naked skin
listen to them drip off your shoulders and gather in the soft places 
where you are most human. 
"This Life is yours."

I want you to know that I love you
no matter what, no matter how, just like this; 
like breathing in and out.
like fucking this
Literally, Sweetly, Sexily
intimately Ultimately; 
Like God himself
Forever and ever amen. 

Word

And just like that

your soul revokes the words no longer said unmeant

even though the masters wore them down

they are not for understanding

and each repetition each reading changes everything

because theres only one language

and only one thing to say

Just a hundred million different ways to put it.

Disproof of everything

what I don't say could never fill all the spaces between us, and I'm already closer than you think.
what I don't know is how to make you believe,
in the gravity I'm falling right through.
 how I'm trying
but the words are all deformed and disproven before they even reach my lips
black with my dark heart , my lonely bloodied beating joy,
gasping for the oxygen to fan these flames;
how can I kiss you with a mouth full  ash?

Enough

I come from a long line of people
well practised in the art of
not wanting too much.

And although I can only see into the near distance
I can feel in my cells,
the turning of years disturbed;
all past presents
and every way it might mean.

The impossible fragility of living and dying
the constant pressure of air
to breathe
and be
maybe....
Enough

Time backs up
fists balled
cornered in relief
like she's been waiting patiently all her life for this.
tears mixed in equal measure of joy and grief.

I was not asleep
yet I was dreaming,
you were mercy's hands
holding that place where I could not reach
where I need
where I breathe
and shit gets real.

Paitence

I will keep on talking
so long
that I will forget
it is my own voice I am hearing.

letters to the dead

It's always the same poem I am writing
it's always to you.

I wrestle with the voices in my head
trying to get them to say
what's in my heart.

Indelible Light

and the weather says I'll always be here
always changing
Always finding new ways to let you know
how much I feel you
How real you really are.
xo