In the Nineties

Someone asked me what I did for fun
In the Nineties
And I told them I couldn't remember much
Except smoking Holidays in a mate's rumpus room
And writing dubious grunge tunes
All while having a crush on the bass player

Someone asked me what clothes I wore
In the Nineties
And I told them I didn't want to think about it
Except for laughing at my ironic Life Be In It t-shirt
Always worn with army surplus pants
A velvet choker, and hair ruthlessly parted in the centre

Someone asked me what life I dreamed of
In the Nineties
And I told them it wasn't this one
Except that I have ended up a writer after all
Despite the rape, the domestic abuse, the abortions
And I wouldn't change a second of it all

Tiff

They say it takes two
But I'd rather be alone
Than be forever in tears
On the buses
In the summertime
Sitting next to terribly beautiful waifs
With their impossibly fit boyfriends
And their stupid fucking sundresses

Twenty One

Ten years to the day
That I was illuminated
Supine upon your lumpy mattress
Ankles bound
Joy unrestrained
While you carved your desire
Into my flesh
Tenderly drawing forth
Blood like garnets
To spill upon your blade
And I can still feel the exquisite pain
Pleasure, despair and desire
Rattling through me
And your mouth on mine
As I bit back, tasting you

Please come home, Sir

Gossip

They talk about me
When I'm too sick to be around
You say they're spreading rumours
About who I fancy
Who I play with
Who I drink with
Who I defeated
In a verbal death match

They talk about you
When you're too busy to be there
I hear them spreading rumours
About who you fancy
Who you play with
Who you smoke with
Who you educated
In the rules of our scene

Lies have a life of their own
Lets talk about life
Forget the lies
And play

Carnival

Overdosed on synaesthesia
And yearning for dark
For autumn
For April and her promises
Her bracing sunrises
I am followed by hungry masses
Frenzied and famished
Ready to pick me to the bone
To borrow my verve
To steal my smile
You call from every cloud
Long gone but still here
In our songs
In the greasepaint
And in the wings

Conversation

Cliches fall from your mouth
As readily as judgments
The ears receiving are 
Wary of false compliments
And empty promises
Which indicate only your fear
Of falling into your own trap
Always talking, talking
Over the top of me
Talking, talking
Never ceasing
Never stopping
To listen
Or learn
Never budging
Never leaving
A gap
Or silence
Just breathe for a beat
And let me in
Before the platitudes
Multiply and murder conversation

Evacuation

Hosing gutters
Filling sinks
Watching news
While packing
When it starts
The tiny hands
Squeezing my heart
The distant voices
Pulling my focus

How can I miss you?
You were never even here
How can I protect you?
You were never more than a hope
How can I recreate you?
You were always more than I dared

And so I continue
Collecting photographs 
Which show only your absence
Folding outfits 
For me alone
And yet your screams deafen me
As the smoke engulfs the valley
And I don't look back
As the flames race away
Illuminating the hilltop