This is for the girls that have ****** you. This is for the pale girls with short hair, the "she could be a lesbian but I'm not sure" type, the beanie wearing bad ******* with heavy baggage and a surplus of bandages. This is for the sad girls, the shipwrecked sailors searching for a beacon, the bruised rib cages and ****** knuckles. This is for the condoms, the purple box you keep in the drawer in your bedside table that we have all seen, the repeated observation that you have no ******* clue how to put on a ****** without looking like a child trying to stuff a water ****** into a sock. This is for the silence, the overwhelming quiet made quieter by skin hitting skin, the active avoidance of eye contact. This is for the fact that you consider foreplay "stalling," the speed with which you can please yourself via another person's body, the ******* that we have all faked at least twice. This is for the general consensus that your performance in bed can be summed up in three words: insecure, selfish, and pretentious. You are the Kanye West of ***; I'm not sure if you are going to let me finish. This is for the sore muscled sweethearts that saved your self-esteem and reassured you of your ****** orientation, for the courteous cuties who carried on until you came, this is for the girls that have ****** you. Godspeed.

Vocal silence
Does for an
Argument make.
You hide behind your belligerence;
With mortar of icy rage and
Stones of cold indifference,
Laid with trowels of denial,
Lobbing nothing wrong
Like fury-fueled firebombs
Then you run a mile.

It's not a war,
It's a conflict.
I'm hunting through a jungle
Of stone-walled edicts,
My defensive guns laying ammo
On metaphorical trees
Guilty of hiding the dead.
A bunker deep enemy,
Safe in their concrete head.

Hunting a deserter
Who spent a lifetime
Learning camouflage techniques,
Sulking under cover,
Lining up their gently angry shot
For when the cross-hairs meet.

I would call you out,
But you would only go in.
It's like fighting a shadow,
My silent twin;
Naturally nurtured
To hide behind benevolence
And fight a cold war.

I warn you, it's growing thin.

Breathless,
Wondrous,
My soul is gripped in awe.
She twists and writhes
Beneath the sheet,
And dreams a little more.
I'm sure she dreams of me, you see,
I feel my soul aflame.
When she sleeps
And sees me there,
She smiles and feels the same.

My spirit
Was consumed,
In death I found my bane;
Twisted deep,
And borne from sleep
My soul was lost in pain.
For in my sin, I died, you see,
While she did cast her spell.
My soul was
Tore asunder;
Cast feet first into hell.

Bound by
Chains of love,
Made from another's mold;
She speared
Me through the side,
And locked me in her fold.
The love she cast
She didn't know
Had caught my soul
In death.
But now I haunt her dreams
Life unending, without breath.

There’s a guy I know
Who’s into spirits,
And not the liquid kind.
He stares sidelong at the world,
Twists his head from side to side.
Imagine what he might find.

Vampires drink wine in Soho,
Sipping from fluted necks
In late night **** stores.
Werewolves run Hyde park ragged,
Robed in riches turned to rags,
If only in the lunar mind.

Police pigs snuffling
Through street trash,
Hunting for him shaped treats.
Televisions watching
His living room and recording
Names and faces of all his kind.

The media he scorns,
Puppet masters pulling strings
For their puppet masters.
The government and the media
Are in it together he opines,
Waving a rag with that in mind.

Aliens control the government,
Sinking sinuous senses
Through simian skulls;
Prodding, poking, pulling
Political factions to provoke
A return of the fleet they left behind.

Codes in hoods hide in churches,
Linking mathematical shapes
To chain centuries of history;
Statues wink and leer at
Myopic armchair men and women
Hunting for the doom of mankind.

Millions of rubes bought over
Shop counters using nonesuch
To sell their souls for trinkets;
Illuminati design adverts,
Flashing commercials;
****** for the public in mind.

Big name pharmaceutical
Selling death at a point
For the sake of profit over parent;
Buying stats to lie to the mass,
Doctors demanding dummies
Despite the way the stars aligned.

Taken for a ride,
We queue with tickets in hand
Waiting for our turn on the rails.

Lie on lie on lie.

He sleeps with one eye on the sky.

Tracking cameras on a road sign.

This guy I know,
He thinks too much.
I don’t mind.

Stay awake my precious,
Stay with me some more.
Grasp my hand, my love,
And hold me to your core.

I am here, my darling,
I am just right here.
When you fall asleep, my love,
I'll stay with you, my dear.

Your eyes are growing tired,
My soul is held in pause.
If you go to sleep, my star,
I will lose my source.

Courage, love, and faith, my dear.
I haven't gone away.
I shut my eyes to dry my tears
So you don't have to pray.

I'm scared, my joy, for what comes next.
Is it dark, you think?

No way.
I picture fields of endless stars
And you brighter than the day.

Hold me, I feel I'm slipping fast away.

I'll never let you go, my love,
Sleep, there, it's not so bad.
I'll be with you shortly,
Don't worry, don't be sad.

Sunlit rays slant through
Like traces in the dark,
Incandescent beams
Flinging dust motes and dreams
Into sharp relief.

Eyelids crawl open
To a dim shelter
Of duvae red, faded.

A peek over the edge
Sets the stomach a'quiver,
An urge to leap fought off
By fatigue; you stay in camp
And slowly stretch your muscles.

An electronic foghorn
Signals your doom.
An avalanche of cotton,
And your back protests
At the sudden weight.

The tether snaps
And you fall
Into the dark of the day.

Time, said the bird,
As it flew through the bay,
Catching the wind
On that fine summer’s day.

Alone, it flew by,
As I watched from the sill;
Its feathers so white
As it flew past the hill.

Stop, I had wailed,
As his storm hit my shore;
But the damage was done
As I lay on the floor.

Sky, you and I,
We’ve been here before;
Sharing this tale,
Perhaps more and more.

Clear was the glass,
As I stared through the pane,
Wondering just then
If the sky was to rain.

Done, said the sky,
With a wink of its eye;
Time to get up,
here’s no need to cry.

Peace, he did cry
As he stepped on the boat;
I watched with a smile
As he settled afloat.

Dark, warned the sky,
As the boat set its sail;
The warnings were there
To live through this tale.

Listen, dark sailor,
The sky is no friend;
The boat tried to help
His friend in the end.

Hell, she will send us,
If you carry this through.
But the man would not listen
To the boat who held true.

Wild, called the storm,
As it blew through the hall,
Tearing and shaking
The paint on the wall.

Hope, I did feel,
As the sky fought my cause;
Smashing and banging
The air without pause.

Break, cried the storm,
As it picked up the boat.
The man and his friend
On the water were smote.

Death was his lot
As he sailed on the sea;
I waited ashore
For my life to be free.