Unceasingly, words fall out my mouth -
my nose and ears, resting on my hips.
The transparency between truths and lies;
(i'm as honest as it gets,
and i'm still not making sense.)
Even in caliginosity
monsters that sit under my bed,
they catch words and phrases -
molding, twisting, manipulating,
making "i don't care what you think"s
laying cliche on cliche.
And outside, my head pounds
so i write phrases on napkins and
when i get home, i don't get them anymore
the wet from the rain, runs the ink from the pen
and i start to believe the lies i told at breakfast.
I wrap myself up in imagery -
in metaphors and similes,
i want to put the sun in my hair and a river in my eyes.
i'm part of the world's biggest gang
a replica of typical.
i salvaged three words - just "one more song"
and i change twice a day,
but i'll always understand.

--------------

Rousing as the world starts to turn; in surreal hours,
a silence blankets the cobbles and pavement.
the black iron palings that line the slabs glint in the hazy morning light
and viridian ivy, hugging the sides of tenement flats, seems to yawn,
as a light breeze lazily filters through desolate streets.
In the sky; the moon is manifest against the cool blue,
illustrating the crisp atmosphere, the crunch of leaf under foot.
but not a single word to be heard; for none are voiced.
only a bird's chirp - light and sweet, can be detected,
signalling dawn in a silver-toned song.

----------------

i sleep with wild eyes open
and keep defiances under pillows.
wrapped in duvet are sharp bones;
snapping out from skin.
teeth sharp but milky and
silk hair like curtains to hide behind
when morning arrives.
set your black holes alight,
bare skin calls alive in every shiver and
i am naught but dreams:
i am pieces of youth,
held together by stitches of regime.