So I bought a magazine in WHSmiths Grabbed a coffee from Starbucks And got on the train. Achtung Baby on the Walkman, Some guy from
Month: April 2012
I’m not an open bookKeep emotions in rusty fortresses.Faded images for the cameraBecomes the real me.I’ve worn the mask so longI no longer recognise myself.To
See her across the Bourbon lineStill, whilst the room constantly spins.Eyes look towards the heavensManga stare deflected through the night club mirrors.Neon forms a halo,My
The snow capped mountains stare down in judgementWhispering distain through the cold air.I continue the search for youWithout the necessary mapWithout eyes.Blindly I follow the
Vertical, not horizontal.This is no cry for help,It’s extinction.
Waiting outside your houseStanding on noodle legsTrying to look dignified.Check my tie in a puddle’s distorted reflectionRun a plastic comb through my heavily moussed hair.I