Kiss me then leave the next day

Love is for the idle dreamers,
they covet it like a pirate,
alone at the sea for years
searching for the most golden treasure in all of the seven seas.

But me you see, I’m different.
What I want is far from the fairytales I was raised on,
the ones that inhabited my veins and brain for years on end.
It’s not something for those epic love songs,
or love stories in orgasmic movies that make loveless teenagers girls swoon.

I want a lover to drink with, in the moments before the broken hour,
someone to dance with in the bottom of midnight,
I don’t need to feel like the only one,
to receive flowers at my door the very next day,
to belong to some grand idea of sweeping beauty and ideals of a time gone by.

I met a boy, in a dusk of delightful desire,
and come across me was a feeling of peace
when is eyes placed themselves on my fault-full face,
but I won’t kiss him with devotion,
I won’t hold him close to my chest and speak in magnificent epigrams,
all I desire in my born broken heart
is for him never to close enough,
to see the girl crying,
to see the child still holding on to roses left at her door
and take me dancing.

Blue Roses

Black diamonds, blue roses,
perfume that smells like amber,
fades around midnight,
when bright stars shine through the dull clouds.

Around the mass of dust,
surrounding old lungs,
there are hearts hiding,
that beats like broken syntax.

With messy minds, neat vodkas,
dreams of mountains that smile.
Spending nights writing soliloquies
about cheap medicine.

Rain falls down,
black circles around eyes.
Girls are prettiest when they cry,
that’s why the world makes them so sad.

In a haze, drinking by a fire,
covered to death in sunshine.
Black diamonds on girl necks,
blue roses smell like amber.

Drunk Thoughts Mean Nothing

Thoughts fuelled by desire
and heart breaking moments
of pretentious anagnorisis,
hyped up by the solstice of
a legal poison,
Don’t mean anything.

I’m sorry.

What was I was thinking,
when I rang you over, over, over, over?
You didn’t pick up,
it was all lies.
Fabrications made up in the
love affair between
my imagination
and the volume of intoxication,
iconoclasts of boredom.

I don’t know what I was going to say.

It doesn’t matter.
It was an exaggeration.
They burned out quickly,
I threw away the candle
with your name,

It should have gone years ago.

Did you imagine me
imagining you?
Did you picture
your name flashing through my brain?
As the poison went further down me.

I’m sorry it was a lie.

A broken memory i’ve since forgotten,
covered in dust,
temporarily brought into
my minds eye;
tarnished with sobering alcohol,
telling me to call your name.

How does it feel when you see my name?

Do you care, like I don’t?
Does it ignite the hidden dream,
you buried within me?