Fresh Meat

I don’t like this yearning and you put it here in just the right place.
Been so long I’ve forgotten how to grab the ropes to pull me out of this space.
You’ve been here time and time before
I am just another Sacrifice.
Fresh meat
until devoured and forgotten on the hotel kitchen floor.
Once entangled with lust it over runs me.
I’ve gotten better over the years
now I only quietly shed a tear.
As to never show you or him or her
life and years have blunted me with fear.
I wont be defeated
I never have been.
It hurts now but then I rise, I rise with high and might, into the hemisphere of the light
and you become nothing
but a memory of the night.

fried brain

oily egg

puff eyes

whole mushrooms

dirty fingernails

flower pot

stomach pain

cheap vodka

sore joints

great band
empty bed

quiet

curry munching

leads to something

straight passage

curry ass

thick cream
bowel screams

straight passage

wind blows

ripples on the water

warm sun

sweet wine

its nice here

Hi

chain smoking
pot toking
brains floating

puff
choking

You

Like you
lust you
love you
fucked you
hate you
spank you
loose you

Thank you

Ecstasy in Vein

I know this because she cries sometimes.

An infinite streamline behind her eyes.

He came he left her.
No longer by her side.
Her infidelity kept the heart ache inside.

Gushes and Geishas with the power to seduce.

All that white make up and red lips to suit.

For this is her art work, her piece de résistance.

A lover now taken that never belonged.

This is her dreamtime in wich she floats.

Remembering the embrace of being love choked.

Ecstasy in veins

love is beautiful!

but loosing it, left the girl stained.

Pretending is suspending

Conquer go on its nice!

Peer from the rabbit hole

out from the hunter sole.

If you dash and you dish

with a swift high kick

then u might just miss.

" Come on!! Give him a kiss"

for this is it now!

no beginning where it ends.

Pretending is suspending my mind

like for ever and some what never ever ending.

Say what?!

Ahh dull hurts!

Let's hit the turps

in the hope it will convert

the fluorescent from your shirt

into the words that you spurt.

Cold Coast

A place with hands to small to hold.
Every action and reaction for told.
Young heart frozen from the cold.
Under the darkness my sanity laid unfold.
A tight sensation as I tried to breathe.
Eyes craving anything with a twinkle of gleam.
Might as well come clean.

No point in mincing words in the pursuit of pristine.
This place is to small, to small for a mind
that keeps on moving forging in time.
This place, this distaste, is unravelling my mind.