Irrelevance at its best.

Fingertips brushed against a coat of skin

Dragged down the wet edge of a champagne glass.

Tongue licked over painted lips

A sea of seduction peering over a spectacle brim.

//

You’re yearning, burning from fingertips to toes.
Passionate for the power that a Hollywood smile contains,
Ambition fires off stone-cold silver bullets
Into each target’s forehead that stands
With open arms, beaming your way.
Spectators can only view, from afar;

The destruction you leave in your wake -
A shimmering pool of blood, that trickles
Seeping out from a broken heart
Across the tarnished halo on her finger
That clutched at a, now still, breast.

 

Stand an inch from me,
Breathing your disgust upon my face
Press a blade into my cheek and sneer
Watch as I cry in crimson
And spit blood onto your face. 
Wet across your lips.
Wrap your hands around my throat and squeeze
Every gasp I take, now with a smile.
Feel the life drain from my body
As you beat me down with your cruelness;
Such dangerous discourse you dribble.
 

She sat on the dock, feet dangling in the water,
Her back to him, staring out across the lake.
Her hair fell ruffled past her shoulders,
He watched as she swept a stray strand behind an ear. 
After the week she’d had he didn’t know whether to join her
Put an arm around her in comfort
Or leave her in peace.
She was calmer now, no more tears.
The distance in her eyes remained, but she crept closer everyday.
He wasn’t one to push.
 

Everybody talks in the back streets, on life’s stage.
Blind-eyed showmen beating out last night’s number, top hat and cane.
Stage rats and alley cats spreading a dangerous plot line
From orchestra pit to ceiling rafters and behind that red velvet screen.
A faceless audience awaits, disguised in luxury and cheap wine,
Eagerly, greedily, soaking up each choreographed line. 
‘Let the show begin”

 

Resign yourself to glistening razor blades,
Tumbling by the thousand from cracked, parched lips
Scoring, scraping as they rebound off your flesh
Only to fall at your feet in a crimson halo of shame.

Press your palms, chilled, up against glass
Tear drops brimming; shattering across pale cheeks
Red, raw and broken you stand,
The voice in your head screaming, lacerated as its shell.
Bashing against your wide-eyed pupils,
The only bullet proof organ you possess. 

If I close my eyes
I’m flying on poetry and prose
Drifting on couplet-clouds
Tracing onomata-outlines
Painting patterns in the vast blue,
Waving as long-gone idols of ink
Sprinkle vocabulary raindrops from on high. 

There’s cheating on your lips,
As you tease with eyes and tongue;
That gives away your game.
A night of passion and a promise of forever
That lingers, broken in the air
As each drop of your seduction evaporates
Into the tousled bed sheets.

How many different types of clock.

I kissed goodbye to childhood and immaturity,
Signing my name on a contract that binds me to adulthood
By the scruff of my neck.
Waving off the wild nights and irresponsibility,
As my peers dive in head first, I stand offering a crash helmet
Only to be refused with care-free shrugs.
Suddenly to realise, that I was never one of them.

 

Your grip is loosening
Finger by finger
As the sun rises and falls.
A gentle whisper of calm
Dripped sweetly into your mind
Promising swift relief
Disguised under a curtain of self-loathing.
Where once you grasped onto this wrist
In romance; with care
Raw crimson and blue
Bruised and broken you part
Leaving your manifested carnage
In true loves wake.
 

I remember

As your souls spun into pockets

Of air as you sink

That rise to the surface

One last breath bursting

At each bubble pop

Lost to the depths

Of the sea/Not our hearts.