for love,
retain a strong memory,
for you, I even gave up my solitary habit,
scrabbling on floorboards in a sickly, ghastly digression,
waking up on en-suite tiles,
the next day is only tiredness,
and constant cricks,
hiding from the feckless foxes,
in the loft extension, for love.

stand yourself up,
well starched, like your sister,
she knows how to pose. a real heart attack machine.
she’s in the shadows,
for failing to quite remain in time with your pace,
even her adept collar pinching and structured face,
don’t allow her to leapfrog,
she know this and loves greatly under the spite.

she’ll always accept a doting boy by her side,
and think of you in the acoustic confusion,
accepting of tomorrow’s self-loathing,
expecting bottomless sugary teas with you.

as the dawn breaks through,
your shapely thighs absorb my stare,
in the curtain’s shadow, as you make an escape,
falling forwards,
i notice my keys and dressing gown have become misplaced,
and i see the flutter with a fabric twitch,
snagging on the pebbledash,
i return to horizontal,

and to my paranoid mind,
the 3 minutes and 20 seconds are unbearable,
i fall in love again when i hear those keys,
it becomes excruciating, so i send “turn twice clockwise” downstairs by telepathy,
four attempts later, i hear soft steps to prevent me waking,
closing my  eyes and falsely sleeping,
i act to deem your loving actions worthwhile.

a modified envelope in which drivel is kept dry.

i am being punished,
for having too much fun,
for living life when I was 21,
prison bars are empty back accounts,
a born to run feeling that won’t amount,

creating a lifestyle,
out of intermittent long sleep,
lovers lost in tow for the remainder of the week,

praising a twenty year old single,
as the new national anthem,
tunesmith young men that are hate filled,
but handsome.

i’m going to chatham in the daytime,
to observe the town drunks’ playtime,
spurious slurred stories about lost fortunes,
word of mouth leaves my right ear saturated,
to dance is to work, in the old c&a doorway,
culture is derived from the scrawl on the toilet wall,

fast food flutters,
to the sound of closing shutters,
the high street is dead from 5 pm,
playground to the destitute once again,
the old post office spills out those living for the weekend,
topman rip off mods hoping this will end,
their companions are all far too wide,

nourished on nothing to warrant being called alive.

i can only hope that my face is somewhat indelible,
that my ‘taken-a-back’ grin,
flashs forward in her mind,
on her day off,
when relaxing or shopping,
her memory of that monday kicks in,
as i’m now well researched,
but equally well versed,
in dreaming from the way side,
of treading the moonlight mile,
but for now i’ll settle for,
sauntering my  way into your mind’s eyeline.

an ice and a slice,
will do just fine,
more than suffice,
to keep the tears at bay,
clutching clarity,
when hell ascends,
arms flailing,
grabbing for gravity,
but still the pavements spin,
the crowd that once roared,
dissipates,
support dwindles as a dull thud makes me turn on my heels,
principles go out the window,
bruises will darkly glow tomorrow. 

i’ve thought of giving in,
proposing love, to the single mum,
i’ve had my eye on,

i must blindly plan,
where to place the outposts of my empire,
get away from those content,
with lusting over vampires,
as i’m growing bored of blue eyes,
they no longer sparkle like i dreamt they did,
the waistlines double,
belts buckle,

i’m not falling out of love,
that will remain there, steadfast,
forever to last,
but it’d be nice to wake up next to someone,
for once,
for once,
waiting on a breath from an olive-skinned projection,
leaving an idle mind behind, in search of perfection. 

this is mainly an outlet for what i write.

usually over-romantic stuff about females, mostly actresses.

try and enjoy it, if you can.