How to save a life

Small music on my mind

Brings me to you

In a haze of humiliation and bemusement

I remember those drowning days

Of pained misery

Here I am, standing the way I am supposed to be, stilled and silent

Inert for that few moments of relief from the paralysed blood sluggishly driving me away from reality

My mind whispers, an explosion in the silence

I just really want to fucking feel anything but this absence of

(heart) (head) (hope) (ambition) (noise) (warmth) ( of

(heart) (head) (hope) (ambition) (noise) (warmth) ( of

(heart) (head) (hope) (ambition) (noise) (warmth) ( of

(heart) (head) (hope) (ambition) (noise) (warmth) ( of

My body is battle worn, scarred and no longer up to the challenge of a fluttered eyelash

Without the body, the walls are a thousand years in standing, a thousand ships launched and dashed like hope

This body is cleaved, deformed and moulded now to a fearsome sight

The mind is a bear chewing off its own leg

Absent and running on instinct

Give it all away

I lost count of the number at that cold, calculating age of eighteen

And some months

As another slightly shrivelled disappointment

Pumped the last of its vigour

Into the empty receptacle at three in the morning

Behind the NCCP car park near that little club with the sofas

Before comfort became a necessity in nightclubs

And excess was a necessary outlet for madness

That beautiful insanity that accompanies the absoluteness of that cold, calculating age of eighteen and some months

The number rose, the incessant pounding wearing the walls smooth

Worn, weary, a thousand years of subtle change, to evolve

Lackluster, listless passion dissipating into resignation

Once I was indignant, with the world at my feet and the bay at my mercy

Until I stopped counting the numbers

Once I fucked to all those classic indie songs

They now play on radio two

When they played on radio one

Or not on the radio at all

But in vinyl shops

But in the rooms of boys

I can’t make you stay

Drinking, to keep this sane

It’s the end of love

Faded looks starve the romance

Here I am crushed

Here you are a loathe memory

You were at my mercy

And for one brief moment we composed a melody

Of sorts

Minor and major crescendo

Dusted from my mind

This space, stale sweat burning holes

I fill up on wine and you fill up on wine

I need to find a part of me

To be my saving grace

You make me feel, that’s why I am happier without you

I’m always played out on the down days

Watch me leave

Your life goes on

Mine shrivels a little more

Someday, you find the real thing

I find the isolation lying next to you

Would it be me you are thinking about

Each time you slide wetly into another her

Who doesn’t quite fuck with such desperation?

Who dances to your beat?

Has a warmer touch, a deserving fuck

Dresses to please you, puts on the whole show

You find the real thing

I find the isolation lying next to you

Waiting for you

Waiting for you to watch me leave

Waiting for you to wait for me to stand still

In the dirt, and call you my own

To be washed away

Inside out I leave, you watch

Someday you find the real thing

I come back for a little more

Your life goes on

A pulse where I belong

There is a reason that you can’t call a woman a cunt

Unless you are a woman

That reason that poisons bitch, whore, slut

Dripping venom from lips

That bind and shackle with honey sweet words

That word spat with sweat and exertions unwanted

That word whispered under cover of darkness

Heavy, leaden, fear scarred excitement

Those words bitten through lips, blood dressed

Those words ingrained in thinking, in impression

Those words stifling, hesitating, controlling

There is a reason that you can’t call a woman a cunt

Unless you are a woman

That every vigilant reason

That wary, perched, poised for action

That flinching, spittle covered word

Uttered in cold empty places

Into tired, cold, empty faces

That one word

That says it all, can you hear it?

Echoing in fading memories

We are the goddess within

Through slightly soiled purified

Anti-bacterial, anti-hysterical, Antichrist laced

Gel packs and wax work smoothness

We, the goddesses walk amongst the mere mortal

Dish soap soaked mere goddess

Embrace the sun

Let the warmth reflect from those gleaming sink taps

Untarnished and never disappointing

No water marks on this old bird

When the world tilted, and tied screaming to metal lifting bars

Chemical induced, intimate nature apprehended my goddess

Tied her into small knots, rivulets of turbulence not nearly strong enough

To save this goddesses mind, which crumbled, like the calorie laden rejoicing

Of binge eating desperation.

Sea side, the now mollified shadow goddess wanders, looming piers, smooth stones

Forgotten virginity discarded, freedom civilized

From breast to cock, swallowing that which sustains position

Swallow, smile, the goddess is sated on pillage

Of insatiable




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