Tangible, Invisible

I wish our lives had a soundtrack,

a song for those important moments.

I know what I would pick

for a lingering stare

or a heart attack.

 

That girl there,

she needs noise above her head.

It would be good if you understood

the euphoria, the dread

when I look upon your face

in a place

where there are only instrumentals.

 

We would all see

what happens on the inside.

Don’t get scared of me

if you see something stick, or grind

in the machinations of my mind.

And don’t trust someone

just because they seem well oiled.

If they appear level be careful

of what they’ve got coiled up

deep down,

waiting to unbalance them.

 

Most of all

love who you love.

Make choices automatic,

instinctual not manual,

and think about who you think about

when you listen to music.

linked

There’s no better way to say thank you than to tell someone they owe you something.

Because I had never had Toblerone, some things just get past you.

 

Sitting at a friend’s place in our early twenties, recalling the old times,

I never thought to tell you how I felt because I was so sure I knew what you’d say.

 

The birds still sounded happy and I muttered for them to fuck off

since the smoke in my lungs didn’t make me feel better.

 

Half wishing I had a visible scar

I was realising our minds forever work in reverse.

 

I am sure that life is always time spent wrong

and I’ve been right before

but not as often as I’ve been scared

 

on a beach path, riding my bike.

A little girl totters across and my brakes fail,

I had never desired so much to be somewhere else

 

Lying in bed after watching a great film,

listening to good music,

my frustrating youth allows me only to think of a girl.

 

Sipping my coffee in the morning and thinking it’s mediocre

before a bullet blasts through my office window

and into my chest, and there is a sinking feeling

but also a sense that my inner struggles are draining away.

 

I have questions about myself that no one else can answer

so most of the time I end up asking;

does my skin feel the same on theirs as theirs does on mine?