Here’s a thought from me to you,

nothing equally divides by two,

the perception of equality,

gets crossed up with duplicity,

dishonesty, epiphanies,

the tattered wings of chivalry,

a vicious cycle gets pursued,

and chased down like a dog in heat;

Once again I’m on the move,

the disappointment is nothing new,

please don’t take it personally,

it’s not like you meant much to me,

complacency, mentalities,

the monarch of totality,

without a thing to prove,

the crumbled teeth of dishonesty,

In the mouth of a comical stooge.


No Room For.

Mocking Bird Down

If my skin were translucent..

you  would see the demons,
that chisel away at my heart,

The monsters that tear at my mind,
day in
day out
day in
day out


You think I am strong because
I am charismatic and because you
have seen me fight.

I am strong because getting up
in the morning
with a purpose other than hating myself
and the blackness that lives inside me
requires that I

day in
day out
day in

day out
morning after night
night after morning.


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She Bled Red Wine

Mocking Bird Down


I wrapped her,
in red ribbon. I breathed
against her skin, and heard her
thoughts crashing against the inside of
my skull, like bones clicking when stretched too far.
She ached. Though I didn’t know why.
Nor could I ask. Not yet.
Her eyes changed colour with each
mechanical snap of
the lens. A flash of the lights,
skin pulled tight,
and emotions pulled tighter.
A pale faced weak shadow stood not far,
unblinking in her information gathering.
‘I’m a copywriter.’ The shadow stated.
‘That’s nice.’ I lied. ‘Hold this, please.’
Girl wrapped in ribbon, warm hands and
busy mind,
lay on the bed to be written on.
My poetry on her nakedness seemed so
perfect. I had no idea why.
But it did.
It did.
Made of fire, wrapped in silk red ribbon.
A page for my words, laid out on my linen.
She wanted to tell me…

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