Playing-Judas

Pure beauty sweep over this cold bitter ache that resides within the body of a mind Dancing on ice flecked ashes with a malicious grin, a taunting beckon of fingers and toes A sheet of comfort to smother the insatiable behemoth residing in the wires and the spluttering heart of a blind fool Grasp the oily skin, try and pull I shan't budge to some kind of idealistic nature And that is the draw that you feel, that is part one of part two Hard edged beauty, a porcelain mask designed to deliver a crushing blow And that is the draw that I feel, that is part two of part one Keep dancing to that tap tap tap of the baseball bat, the beat of th

Smooth, gentle ovals bob up and down the street, marking every face of every human being since induviduality was recognised as an unstable variant of judgement, violence and global discontent. Some days, I want to claw off my face. I shift between loose crowds of people, any group of collaboration above a pair disallowed in public gathering. Literally. Sink my fingers beneath the skin of my jaw, brace myself, and just tear it off. Flickering lights and sirens bounce violently off walls, though no heads turn. We are all cattle, freedom and sense of being is an illusion as great as peace and harmony. Would it be writhing maggots, because I've

To mourn the loss of something that you have never claimed, to miss what never was. But to always see beyond sight and to acknowledge the knowledge of what there is none. There was heat, warmth, light. It blossomed from every whisper of humid wind, and in every breath shared between us. We walked, yet my mind took more steps than me feet. We talked, yet your eyes speak uncounted words into my chest. Your smile. If a smile could kill a man from romantic combustion, I'd be an inferno of your will. It lingers, imprinted on me. If you knew the ache of missing another, then to miss something that will never truly be within your grasp is a whole d

These cement shoes bring me to bedrock once more Gifted by the embodyment of everything I've forgotten and lost This is not a case of bicycle riding, movements are with pull of tide The vast expanse, saltier than any tear shed from sailor's wife They say the grass is greener, though I see in shades of grey Give with one hand to take with another a deranged exchange and surely a spectacle for spectators near and far They can only watch and scream, illusion of control nothing but fanciful dream There is no time, no hour or day. Just motion and movement, intertwined around one another There is no distance, no space or expanse Just hop

Orange light flicker, I've got the greatest idea for us lets do this again and again and again until the seams blur Lets pretend there's control so when there's punches we'll roll Are you ready to wake up yet? Because I've got a feeling you don't want to That's right, this is your conscious speaking in the form of an 80's tape recorder You just have to press stop and we'll stop dancing to the music that our ears adore Deny addicted Lay conflicted Throat constricted Vividly depicted Sanity evicted We're all retrodicted Constantly inflicted And I only see her in stop motion, countless photograph of the mind This isn't about singul

If you could have seen a day through Then maybe I would have watched the sunset with you A catch 22 goodbye No chicago typewriter tragedy An inevitable fork in the road Yet no knife at the murder scene It's obcene, the way things are seen after such a short time has been This is the way it ends when your age ends with 'teen' This shit is eastenders, we'd save time putting our brains in fucking blenders.

If there ever was a spare minute of the day A Mona Lisa smile, never to wither nor join the fray Misconception of insight upon distance within varying circumstance Fuzzy head, hairy lung, long before body meets bed. Sometimes we all speak in tongue. Just take your time.