Lyrics once etched onto skin
Bleed from lips like reopened wounds
But we never stop picking at them;
Unleashing words we can recite
Like holy men recall scripture.
Our songs entangled like the red string
That don our fingers
Binding our hearts and minds to each other.
Years pass like seconds
On the clock that is our lives
And even now you cannot deny
The beauty of the melody composed
Composed by the choirmaster and his strings
TFL apologises for the delay in service.
This was due to a passenger attempting to find
On one of our maps,
Amidst the closing doors.
Transport For Life apologises
For any inconvenience caused.
The High Street is burning
Small businesses are combusting
One by one the fire is catching
While the flames swallow them whole,
And in the morning
The ashes are swept away
To pave the way for something new
It will be delivered
For public convenience
Within the next 24 hours.
I am desperate to weep
In a state of euphoria;
Sed tears of joy
I’d fill fountains
With my happiness
And drink my saltwater serotonin
In an eternal cycle
The moon hung crestfallen when
we dreamed of daybreak;
An end to the dimmed out stars seems
To be a tragedy so
True, that we weep over ideals far
From where we were. Wishing away
Every reality we thought we could reach.
We sat together, and stared up for
What could have been decades in the chill, my
Fingers trembled, so you took my hand.
If I have the audacity
To combust in your company
To light your cigarette
In my aura.
Be careful where you put it out
You don’t want
To get your fingers burned
My mourning is fleeting
I compose your infinite eulogies
In dandelion clocks, paper planes
And kite strings.
You were motion,
And I remain as I always was:
I cannot look skyward,
Without remembering the night
Stars fell from the sky
And we had the chance
In orbit of each other
Beneath the colours.