Curves

Some letters of the alphabet

Are harder to carve

Into your skin

One-track mind

Call me a fool

But each time

I thought

You were special

And each time you

Proved me wrong

I kept on thinking

The same old thought

I must have a

One-track mind

Anger

Being angry

Keeps me from

Being dead

Forgiveness is for fuckwits

I’ve done it twice and both times

It has jumped the fuck right up,

Bitten me hard in the face

So excuse the language,

Let me tell you this:

Forgiveness is 

For fuckwits

Two words

And when I say

Only those two words

It isn’t that I haven’t

Anything else to say

There’s so much; too much

It all weighs heavily on me

And I dare not speak

Amnesia

Last night

I remembered

The story

You wrote

About the

Tallest tower

And a single

Rose

I crave amnesia.

Dinner menu

I don’t know why you

Went there for dinner

And stood looking at

That picture of my face

When you could have

Consumed me instead

Facts

Sorrow

Can slay

Grief can

Paralyse

Love can

Kill –

But you knew all this already.

happiness I

Now I know

That it is possible

To be too happy.

Goodbye, friend

I never planned on losing you –

I normally have a plan for everything

But you were always a constant

In an uncertain life, an uncertain world

I don’t suppose most people plan on losing either –

Possessions, places, even other people

I always thought you’d be there

I should have planned ahead.

Coke addict

Everyone else

Is a cool drink

On a hot day

But you are

A chilled coke

Crammed with ice

It hurts

Going down

But feels so right

Dream

I have a dream

A dream of putting

Poison in your coffee

Screams in your head

Clouds in your vision

And monsters in your bed

Ache

After a while

The heart hurt

It doesn’t ache so much

The gnawing in the gut

Slowly eases

And desperation

Gives way to despair

In turn replaced by

An uneasy truce

Waiting to blow up

Unmercifully

In my face

When you start

Coming around

Again

You and I

Like a victim

Who keeps

Digging at

The wound

Repeating the

Same old tune

I keep digging

This grave

Containing

The remains

Of you and I

Replay

Like a murderer

To the body

Slayer to

The slayed

You keep

Unfailingly

Returning

To me

Plastic smile

Things aren’t so bad

That I can’t sport a smile

When faced by a camera –

You too are plastic, after all.