Hot Chocolate

Drafting trouble.
in my head,
laying rubble.
in my bed.

Tired, like.
Sweat and bone.
Tired like.
Please don’t phone.

Hot chocolate, tea and soup.
Going round a loop-de-loop.

My eyes are sandy.

You can’t possibly get on my level.
Trying to attach yourself to my intellect,
smarts and knowledge.
The way I AM.
Me! Unique, special and beyond.
You steal and try.
I bottle my brilliance. You break down,
you try. to understand.
Over your hear.
Clouds of candy, bright pink fluffy thoughts.
The darkness is onset.
you can’t follow my nonsense.
I lose you, rambling genius.
Like a Phoenix, I destroy, immolate and am reborn.
Social god. Energy, heartbeat.
entertaining pulse. reckless.
Wrecking. You love me? You love me?
You can’t love me if I don’t love or understand myself.
If my version of me changes.
If i’m broken, dastardly afraid of groups.
People, unsocial me.
Worried, stuck, reverting back to zero.
all social context removed.
Barriers up. Sitting on a bench getting sun.
Coffee twitching my mouth.
Turbines of my mind, wading in your waters.
Above you.
touched glove to you.
you dove you,
Shovel my love-sickness
six feet beneath you.

Heaven’s above-
you don’t get it.
Don’t get me.
you’re lost, set adrift.
Imbalanced. Unable to compensate or comprehend life or me.
Let me be honest.
I say the same shit to everyone and I tire.
I don’t inspire.
No high flyer.
Stick and stones,
in the styx no phones.
Ears and bones and loans for the Gonner.
Eyes of sand.
twisted hands.
Praying up, up above you.
Over your head.
My nonsense.


Cuts and bruises.
Cats and dogs.
Good and bad.
Swing and miss.
up and down.
steak and chips.
bread and wine.
salt and pepper.

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