PRAY.

My face: A coin
with a date.
It scrapes against rocks
until it is a brown circle,
a metal inedible
chocolate button.

Without identity
there can be no real consequence.

My stomach:
A ricocheted fork
pranging and praying
for stillness
as reverberation
is a gospel singing reverend
who won't quit.
Lest we forget
the lungs that sweat
a folding,
raining
hallelujah.

Who knew each breath could cry?

My heart:
The loud clapping of hands
believing all they hear
from the bible of my brain.
My psalms are clammy
and tight fisted.
Trying for another moist breath
is too much of a cross
to bare.

The hope is in healing.
To grant faith in the unknown.
To allow the coin to save face,
to stop panic reigning down on lungs
and for the fork to remain still
through lack of impact
against me.
For thine is the divine,
the power
and the glory.

Amen.

NO ENTRY.

She can't welcome you in
when the doors fully bolted,
from the inside
she's in a land where she's faulted.
The memories haunt
as they dance to the rhythm
and her demons
they're screaming "There's no carpe diem."
She seizes the past
instead of the present
and thats why there's a descent
instead of an up,
and instead of being full
there's an empty cup.
Not even half full,
or a quarter,
theres nothing,
and the people in her dreams
are mocking and scoffing.
These alcoholic drinks
they're greedily quaffing.
Drink up,
keep drinking,
drink til you drown.
Suffocate on vodka
as you laugh, you fake clowns.
She laughs pretty loud,
so fake she astounds
as she takes hold of this tower
and stands at the top,
embracing the air
she gracefully flops.
Closes her eyes
and the air hits her face,
then she's kissing the ground
and there's no more space
or concept of time
in the blackness of death.
The doors fully bolted,
its time now for rest.

EDIBILITATING.

Laugh it out loud
and show that youre proud of me
for being me
and being free enough
to say what I feel.
I'm real.
I'm so real
but you just make a meal
out of what I'm not,
the things I'm not so hot about.
Put me in the oven and scold me,
burn me out 'til there's charred remains
and I cant feel any more,
can't feel this pain.
Get the cutlery out,
prod at the tenderness that makes me raw.
May you thaw with age,
but by then it's too late
and there's too many memories
piled up on my plate.
I'm not hungry any more Ma
may I be excused?
'Cos my stomachs in knots
and my ego is bruised.
I'm just a confused kid
who should have hid
when dinner was served,
'cos I'm on the menu
ripped apart by these words.
They echo in my ear,
they're so clear
as I hear my dear mum
with the carving knife.
It's a sign of the times:
dissect me and see
whats on the inside.
Tear me apart
'til theres nothing but bones.
Chewed up and spat out,
my soul devoured at home.

DING DONG.

I had a ding,
I had a dong.
I had a reason
to sing along.
A spring in my step
as fresh as daisys,
the potential to maybe
feel love crazy.
Bang its over.
Now you hate me.
For your problems
you try and blame me.
Standing ground
on crushed daisys,
who else have you
fucked up lately?
With ur cynical sarcastic rating,
why do you even bother dating?
When you spend ur whole time slating,
berating
and hating.
It's not my fault
your over compensating
on terrible things
that are in ur past,
you need to let go
or nothing will last.
So fuck off.
Fuck you.
Get off ur ass.
Let it go and let it pass
who's to say
a hearts made of glass?
Who's to say it's ok to cast
down ur anger onto me
and drag it on:
this misery.
If it makes u feel better
blame it on me,
if it makes it hurt less
blame it on me,
'cos we both know
I'm not in the wrong
and we both know
this wont last long.
So get it right
or get it wrong
I'm still going,
I'm still gone.