Drowing in white, this fairy girl
Hypnotised by a dirty table
She’s drunk, she sits, she stares
She’s unconsoleable and removes her wings
Stolen at such a speed
She wonders if they were fact or fiction

Her ears are full of noise and poison
Wanting to poison herself
But holding on to an ‘us’
But somewhere distorted by it all
Is a non-doubtful, non-dullful echo
Talks of Punk under intoxication
But this voice has no face
As her eyes fixate in a safer light
Where the only person who glances back is blind

A deep dark forest where this fairy has no flight
No wings, no fire,
Just compromising earthly nights
If the unwinged girl would only take no influences
Only be her to break others’ restrictiveness
Elevate her limited sight
To see this voice’s eyes
A rush and her fable
A fire and passion, onto that hypnotising table
This fairy girl, drowning in her white fairy tale

Animation shines off the stage at three
Insomnia what a beautiful freak
They were all lower to upper
Longing to be your theatrical lover
Bring down the white cage
Where we are a scene in a breathtaking play
Unable to focus with the same devotion
Our favourite feature repeated in glowing motion

The falls, the gaps, the stairways vast
Shards of wood and splintered glass
Step off that stage once you’ve shone
Your audience’s night’s love is gone
Lit tunnels into darkness lose reflection
In orange belts they bind the demented
It’s finished, now walk to me
From this shadowed second row I lust for thee

The show lights give your graceful silhouette the edge of a smile
A patch of darkness leaning into me from the aisle
A pale hand and sharp gleaming nails, I am sold
As I reach out I expect a kiss of cold
Gliding me out of the shadows to perform
Lead this dance, lead me to be yours
Nights fire we are levitating while my eyes are closed
Sudden sight, an abandoned stage I am alone
There in the shadows, second row five seats in
Looking upon me with your havoc grin

How do you stop an exceptionally beautiful entity
from moving in the way it always has done?
The ocean is blissful but to live in it we would drown
Or at least weaken us if we had strength to swim
To order Neptune to come suspend you and run on your skin
Never would it be done
But, he would gladly have you come bathe in his sea
While floating, showing you the sparks and glows on his sandy bed

The moon would not order the sun to warm her
Or confess how much she lives in the night
Missing the glow, heat and light
The last eclipse where they lavished in each other
Luna’s heart aching for the next one
To feel Sol in full upon her
So fearful as creatures we are to scream our ideal
Even with abundance we shy away

‘We miss the Sun and Neptune and Love as we turn our backs to it’
How do you stop an exceptionally beautiful entity
from moving in the way it always has done,
You don’t.
Walking away from a retreating shoreline
Still you drift from me, that tide that comes in.

Two young girls pushing on slow down the tight hall
Slanting down steep grows the unseeable floor
In their ears a flash of a deep loud groan
A male voice but from where is unknown
They move on into blurry dimness ahead
Shooting until glass stops them dead
Altitude dropping as they choose to go left
Oozing fog machines give them heavier breath
Clinging onto each other smiling with fright
We do these acts for daring excite
Charging to the frame that lets daylight in
They turn and giggle catching a glance of him

Cheek bones breaking through his withdrawn features
Dancing as he moves pointing his cane in gestures
His open smirking mouth delving into his hollow skull
Petite nose and mouth soften his stopping look
Green eyes follow them through the shadows cast
Braces hidden by his tailcoat in washed out black
Slicked back grey and brown receding hairs
Falls just to the length of his large aged ears
Two twisted legs as branches from a tree of time
Yellow stained nails un-neat and backed with grime

The girls becoming tired take their leave
They had their fun, their feeds, filled adrenaline rushed needs
Now he looms by the rusted gate grinning as they exit
Tipping his hat, they edge around and forget him
A day with churning, when will the spinning stop
After three hot dogs and pink candy floss
Twisting stomach towards the waltz ends
Bringing it all back up upon a friend

One foot raised on a box as his guests vacate
The bright lights off, no more music played
They have forgotten a world that doesn’t hold a house of horrors
For today everyone is thirteen and we will face life tomorrow
The buzz silenced from the motors fuelling the death traps
Food stalls contents scattered enticing the infestive rats
For another illuminating night he has pleased the fair going fans
He can sleep peaceful, he is the carnival man

I stand shoulder to waist in this mumbling crowd
Stationary, the roots rise to keep me bound
Blue and brown eyes locked onto the earth’s platform beneath
My target is the raining sky, as my own turn green
Preparation sliced fingertips
Gaping and gasping they are ignorant
Branches are moving in to hold my hand
Gazing up at shapes of lost influence I am found

Twisting and gripping crack a shattered knee
If the drunken fool is found be polite enough to return me
The blurs, everything shifts back and forth
My eyes waver unable to keep up with the sickening rush
The tuning is out in my sight
A growl and firework sparks brighten this night
Please annotate your requirements, for I have none
Unspecific numbers are Monday’s love

Around my belt buckle it reaches another crooked limb
Drawing me to the rain soaked soil their eyes still fixed
A quick stare from the blue eyed figure who stands to my left
Unselfish lips word to me ‘Save Us’, no voice only breath
The theatrics in this performance, I outdo myself
Living life before the death of my duracell
Sympathise for me and my fake wounds
I am a battery-powered doll playing games of rack and ruin

Tall and slender
As if some elegant creature
Craving to be bitten
Wanting to delve into some underworld
To roam London’s streets in the fog
Re-enacting scenes from black and white movies
Watched at 3am with all lights off

Draping dark hair over his face
Daydreaming of vampire nights
Sharpened black nails scratching and clawing
Similar to a feline upon a post
Painting colour upon his skin’s white canvas
Surrounding his eyes in black and red
Giving an appearance of the living dead

I’m sure he would prefer to live in a crypt
Sleeping in a coffin in the cold
Hunting warm blood to drink
Playing hypnotic prepared piano
Restless for the occult’s shadow
Adoring the power and excitement
Lusting for beautiful gore and violence

A dripping wet foot she puts to the cold floor
Her second foot goes to the ground
Solid wood from before she was born
Finger tips pressing on the bath edge
Balancing as the dizzy spells pass
A small translucent window allowing the draft
Condensation running and racing the other drops down the glass
As the water runs down her goose-bumped flesh
That clung as she exited the bath

Reaching for the off-white towel
Doubling it around her form
Wet footprints creating pools
Reflecting the light bulbs harsh shine
As it hangs bare from the roof
Turning to pull the silver chain from its rigid place
Holding dead bubble bath water in a plastic case
The water swirls and lowers
Gurgles and burps and splutters
Easing her stiff body to the floor
As if made of the wood beneath her feet

As she huddles her back on the frame
Dark waves falling over her shoulders and face
Tears drip with the water’s descent from her hair
Bloodshot eyes from the sobbing and the soap
Her left index finger, once her arms uncrossed
Meets with the dark varnish
Scratching the rough splintering wood
Deeply inhaling and against the grain

Her right hand raises up the wall
She throws her head upon her upper arm
Fist clenched against the painted pale blue wall
Her head dropping down as if some heavy weight
Or loss of neck muscles makes it fall
Her left hand still claws,
As her right hand joins the anger
Stripping to reveal the white undercoat
Her nails backed up with varnish and paint flakes
Suicide in the bathroom
Does not hold all the excitement
As death persuades you with the dark kiss
Suffering in a bathroom corner
Draped and lifeless as the shower curtain is

There is a church on a street called Chapel
At night it stands infallible
Luminated by purple and yellow street lights
Front stone shines up through trees an angelic white
Inside there is a translucent figure often seen but only in the dark

Those colourful lights make his unusual texture fill with violet and honey
I couldn’t tell you he’s a ghost, because I don’t know if I’ve seen any
But if that is what he happens to be then I must say
The way he always has a cheeky grin and lively eyes
Gives hope that life after death will be a nice surprise

It’s 12:09 and he clicks for another time
I think that’s 6 but I’ve been blocking it out
As much as I can in this place
Where all you are left with is nothing but time to contemplate
It’s friend the green creature
Gripped to my thigh on my walk in
A willing fight to remove him
For me the battle a win

Once upon the floor no movement or crawl
Just sits behind me leering up
From the purpley-grey carpet soaked in stains
Mocking at the way I keep checking his position
Careful not to crush his tapping frame
This piercing precious glance fixed upon my back
The click telling me someone will return to the earth
Not much of a warning only minutes before can it be heard

Is this little green creature here to take me
Will he swallow me whole with the opening of his insect jaws
Am I the next in line to escape physical walls

12:20 no more has been
I know it’s Monday beetle leave me be
Either I am deaf or the torturing creature has quit
As I drink from a yellow mug
Once more I check and a surprised look
For now I see the green creature’s life ceased
Was I supposed to help, maybe the beetle had another message for me
My own ego has left this creature to die
It will haunt my desk and it’s corpse eaten by dust mites

But that’s not where the deathwatch ends
It only ends when it ends
The stinging devil flies to me on Tuesday
Flickering his translucent wings
As more screens flicker pointless data
Landing on the fake grey marble surface of this desk
There no more than a few seconds but staying just long enough
He knew I’d remember his gentle hum
Buzzing he is the wind’s sound
The earth and air have now approached me

Wednesday and the fire ant floats over
He will take me chunk by chunk down the built tunnels
The earth is warmer and keeps growing
I am now 9 thousand pieces as I race to the earth’s core
Lava blisters my disfigured flesh
In a deep cavern he rebuilds me
But builds me better than before
Now I have pyro
Fire burns only through my veins
No longer melts this flesh and chars the bone
I am born through the volcano and slowly cool in the sea alone

As I drift with the tide
Travel with the jet stream
The last day is on its way now I am much relieved
My fragmented spine stiffening like the board
Like the plastic chair I am worn and torn
The black-cloaked man comes to take my insubstantial heart
Swinging sickle, reap and scar

He writes upon me in black eyeliner
Takes care of me when I’m a dark disaster
My clothes disappear from his bedroom floor
Maybe he has a sock monster devouring them all
He hugs me tighter and lets me have more of the quilt when I’m cold
Gives me his hand in the winter
Even when it’s blue and numb to hold
Lends me one of his favourite t-shirts
And admits it looks better on me
A night out after drinking and laughing
My alcohol induced rantings
His life travelling at about four times the speed of mine
Still he stays in bed with me allowing a bit to pass by
Almost motionless
This silly little girl who reads ‘spooky cards’
And day dreams of playing lead guitar
He looks to me with eyes of an Aeris
Too many aspects of him
Which I look to with uncontrollable smiles
There is not enough in what people could tell and talk

She wanders the cemetery and weeps for those that have already died
Knowing that her tears will only cease
When this damp ground is decomposing her insides

Layer on top of layer but the clothes are unable to stop
Her wariness of feeling naked and her confidence lost
Loneliness leads her to where the dead rest in peace
When she feels she can no longer go on, when her body must sleep

Drifting only for a couple of hours
Every couple of days
In-between her unconscious dreams and her conscious daze

She feels touched by the figure who is unseen
Squeezing her chest she feels their screams
But this is unlike anybody else
Or maybe the un-rested figure calling for help
Is really a dark presence on her unobservant eyes
A figure who could explain why these souls left the bodies they possessed
Or in simple terms, why they died

The grass grows tall, up these sunken, quarry-like walls
Encasing unorganised rows of tilting and slanting family names
Crossing three simple stepping stones, in her simple ways

Leaning and gazing into the shallow green covered pond
Knowing only a foot down is bright marble
Not the night sky reflection or the great beyond
She feels her weight fall forward and sinks below
The damp mud encasing her and bringing her to a slow
Now she lies with the bodies whom she spent so much time
Who surely she must love, now her eyes are dry

But in a cemetery who can know
Did she truly lose her balance
Or did her friend who was unseen
Give a gentle push to have someone to hold
No longer be restless but peacefully sleep