Mary's first

i think i wrote this yesterday. its not a poem. its just a face. a phase.
one of the many im sure.


Mother its alive.. –
And doors wont stop for justice.. they just provoke the questions..
I came to you.. or could it be my ghost..
- music wont ride this time…
what bars have we to rebel? – original changes.. could madness really exist..
in the eyes of common law.. a creature sleeps by night.. and daylight not at all. –
forgive me for the whispers.. I fear this room’s too far..
and movement is corruption.. the slightest taste could drive a love deeper than life itself. – eternity..
maybe its not so wrong..
and even if it is.. – I hold your hand.. knowing that a downfall shared by two.. is a step behind creation.

‘oh im beginning to think.. ‘
doesn’t happen often.. but I cant help the photographs..
you make me from a smile.. – the sickness has evolved..
no longer framed by aura.. – its just a 2d game.
-- ramble with me child..
we’ll talk in tattered phrases.. that neither of us can really understand.. cause we never got to make them.. we thought we couldn’t learn.
A kiss and strangers plan their lives..

You could look 1000 times.. explore those eyes you claimed to alter..
I’ll wear the name that fits me right.. –
Be it pants.. or mutual trust.. I gave you emotion..

I can run.. fly.. hope.. or paint.. myself into your reality..
The lemon has its sugar.. – fiction or fact?

Make it your duty.. – LOWER that bass..
Flecks of irony.. waltz above your window frame..

I sing to music.. the music sings to me..
A challenge worth all the pennies you can pocket..
Confinement you can break.. – almost picturesque..
You live in dreams.. and though you lace my drink with broken life
I feel your hand within me.. –
Playing all these dress ups..
Im the mother.. youre the wife.. – we laugh till scones are baked..
Sip our tea…
Prayers are further than the mind..
I will silence whatever notions you evoke.
Standing by seclusion.. – noticed my new watch?
We count down anything we learnt to love – my mirror hangs at 7.

You are a figment of precision.. perfection.. and inevitably… imagination
“I’ll be there soon.. I’m coming to the rescue”
a dream beyond the pillows potion.. karma works a treat.. –
expectations differ… roll on with the blues..
oblivious to colour.. sound.. and consequently.. numb to vision.
We cant breath.. in sync..
‘I’m an addict…’


*shys ***.. dont bite me. too hard.
cat.