paper birds

Apples rolling on a concrete bridge
And then papers flew like a flock of
birds
in the sky over your homes
blood-red drenched in
the watercolour echoes of an
agitated world
telling you to leave before
it explodes in glitter-dust
and turns the season of
your breath.
Papers, printed with words
of an ancient hate
slicing at their heals
covering their histories
a horrific nostalgia
pasting words upon a past
thick enough to form a cast
hit it again and it wont last
unravelling a heart to hear
the dull of its beat
words flying over a landscape
papers flapping in the sky
telling them to leave or
they would
die.

I think you slipped

And for a moment I saw
the truth beneath your cracks
the shapes you will break into
when you shatter
that fingerprint-corruption
the colour of your smoke
and the shapes it will
make in the wind
-Watch me watch you watch me
watch who
and let us take apart
the jigsaw pieces in the clouds
I think I saw you floating up above
and all around

slow down

if a heart beats really slowly
has it stopped
in the seconds between beats?
am I blind in the blinks between
sight?
what if I painted a picture in my mind?
and when I shut my eyes I opened a sight
and saw a wonderland delight
what if taste was a place called perfect and
sweet was a sound and fall was a state and
fly was an action? what If I broke the boundaries
of letters so that their ink spilt across the page
and made a dull thud thud that followed the rhythm of a pulsing
brain?

was that

the last time I would speak to you?

a tension in your voice because you

are somewhere else

a tear in my eye because i still

feel the phantom pain of your presence

I can’t

stop feeling!

I feel it in the bubble-beat of my heart and

the bottom of my gut

a dull ache that sounds like the inside of a 

submarine at the bottom of the ocean 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it is time

we have followed the threads until the

end of our tapestry

and you have exited in win

 I, in a half-breath half-step

fall

Your sole, I have discovered, is concrete wall

and I feel like the jelly of pins and needles

and crawl

shifting around in and out of awareness

You barely blink 

lost in translation you cannot hear the pain

as I sink

allowing myself to blame you

Until this-

When time struck my face I 

realised truth travelled in wonder

that the veins of my subjective self were merely

gravel-weight, so step on it

don’t be darkpsy let us become 

progressive