Headless Squirrels

I lay hidden behind scarlet upholstery
murmuring into my burning pillowcase
as death and heat pushed through my skin.

(black curls fall in dishonest spirals. I take
a dose of sin. lunatics riverdance around
a bleeding corpse.

my mother cuts the head off squirrels
as she sings songs about disaster and

if you look hard enough at the scars on
my head you’d see an island of starving
skeletons craving anaesthetics and love.


His Empty Stare

the flowers he had brought me sat rotting next to my empty vases
deprived of sunlight, they wilt, in moonless blackness as the piano
played something beautiful from before we were born, the doors
lock onto the floor, pinning keys back onto hooks of hotel rooms

I remember him, smothered in violet glitter, staring at the celling
as he whispered lifeless lyrics through cigarette stained teeth,
in another room I sit, crossed legged and alone, as my headless
daysleeper sat singing to a crowd that had never been there

his flesh used to wear me as a second skin, when he was miserable
I tore myself apart so he could empty himself into my darkness
If one day, I'd return to the place we use to love eachother, I imagine
I would see him staring at nothing and everything as he learnt to die.


Hurricanes of Oblivion

this was the start of hurricanes of oblivion
strings of chemicals claw through the white
screens of my addiction, lifting me to rooftops

i hated her, the old lady in her worn down boot
she smoked the bones of her weary children
as she danced clumsily on my flaming heart

the walls entice me into their structures
to live happily in their cemented cores
like the skeletons that had gone before me

oh, how anarchy whistled to the golden stars
calling the gods down to torture their creations
with their necessities and promises of hell

pull me up from the spider infested waters
until land is the only place I know; knock me out,
and wake me at sunset, or don’t wake me at all.



sunlight punctures through the curtains
like needles through the skin
the shadows on the ceiling dance
as they become filled with white sound

as the walls gradually start to turn black
with fruit flies and delayed echoes
I could only watch as the world
shredded its shade of violet for black.