Delicate

We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

Classic Mild..

Breathe In..
Let the smoke fill you up
Feel the sweet rush of nicotine
soothe your frayed nerves
and pungent tar scrape your throat raw
like the bile you've come to know so well.

Breathe Out..
Watch the soft white vapour trace your breath
and pretend that you are special,
the last of the dragons,
with dragonfire to burn away
the impregnable fortresses of memory.

Breathe In..
Waiting as the soft orange glow
consumes another eighth of an inch
of snowy white paper
and bits of leaf, golden brown
like her hair, when it blocked out the sun.

Breathe Out..
And sigh it all away.
Yourself, the past, half remembered dreams, everything.
Till all that's left
is the next flick of the thumb
that shakes off the smothering ash.

Breathe in.

Vanity Card

He appeared normal. He spoke and behaved just like anyone else. The fact that he had no heart was very well concealed. Well, that's not entirely true. He did have one. It was just not in his possession at the moment. And this is where the story gets complicated. The woman who had the darn thing was blithely unaware of the fact. Well, that's not entirely true either. She knew that she'd left the relationship with more stuff than when she entered it, she just hadn't bothered to do a proper inventory. (Had she done so, she would have found the heart, as well as a set of balls.) Regardless, his dilemma remained the same. A woman had absconded with a vital organ and the gnawing emptiness he felt was a direct reflection of that vacancy. Well, that's not entirely true either. The gnawing thing had actually been with him since he was a child. He just liked to assign blame for the condition.

The Answer My Friend..

The whispering wind is full of sounds
of storm cloud laden darkened skies.
Of Gods of old, and thunderbolts,
and softly spoken slithering sighs.

The flavoured wind is full of smells
of earth and smoke and splendid blooms.
Of salt and spice, and paradise,
and foul, pervasive, putrid fumes.

The blinding wind is full of sights
that one must close their eyes to see.
Torn up trees and bumblebees
and strong men forced to take the knee.

The gentle wind, its sweet caress,
it stirs up more than memory.
Of a lover's breath, and certain death
and all your life will ever be.
 

Insomnia

I dreamed of you last night.
A dream of what never was
like dreams so often are.
I'd locked myself in,
sealed airtight,
to keep you from creeping in
built walls, dug moats
safe in my castle, I thought.

I dreamed of you last night
for walls cant hold back dreams.
And keeping you out was harder than
I ever thought it could be
So I breathed you in,
choking on the fumes
sickeningly sweet, putrid.
but growing fainter with every halting breath
and fading away with every passing day.

Until it was clear,
like every cloud of smoke
and bad taste in my mouth
this too shall pass

Never..

Woke up this morning..

You woke up this morning
Got yourself a gun,
Mama always said you'd be
The Chosen One. 
She said: You're one in a million
You've got to burn to shine,
But you were born under a bad sign,
With a blue moon in your eyes.

You woke up this morning
All the love has gone,
Your Papa never told you
About right and wrong. 
But you're looking good, baby,
I believe you're feeling fine,
Born under a bad sign
With a blue moon in your eyes. 

You woke up this morning
The world turned upside down,
Thing's ain't been the same
Since the Blues walked into town. 
But you're one in a million
You've got that shotgun shine.
Born under a bad sign,
With a blue moon in your eyes

When you woke up this morning,
You got yourself a gun.