So’ – Part 1

I’ve contended, with flirting with the idea
Of considering, thinking about a total black out
Grasping the stone and granite between my fingers
After shaking the foundations as gravity becomes my fuel
And I leave an indent of my frame on the coast
The strobe lights colour me in outside of the lines
While the breeze animates a life corpse by the hairlines
A blissful departure into the proceeding day indeed

Now I know my fellow companions have been taken by the night
But I’m stripped back into reality by a familiar voice
I thought I spotted your visage blurred by the humidity of the ocean
Fog to the naked eye, but I can see your amber eyes peering over me
You said you broke away on account of your imagination going wild
Imagining me crawled up in the corner like a dog
After a juggling match for my phone with the locals
You pull me up, give 5 across the head and then hold me tight

But you’ve always been watching over me haven’t you So ‘n So?
You don’t let mortal barriers like existence stop you checking up on me

You’ve always been right by my right hand gal
When the blood tell me I’m always less than a leach on the belly
You’re always there to point out the damage they do
They never see you flick them the V’s but it always makes me smile
When dates tell me I’ll never have it better than them
You’re always there to run your hands up my chest
They’ll never see you press your breasts against my forearm
I don’t care what they say, If I can see you, you’re real to me

You’ve never left my side my dear So ‘n So
When the others run away to their bubbles
With their make shift hammy down sweethearts
You’ll always be at my door for a round of Brawl
Resting your head on my shoulder
As I run my hands through your silky black mop
I don’t care what they say, you’ll always be real to me
If you can make me smile when they show their backs
Then it doesn’t matter what they think
You’re all I need

Part 0 – http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/84357421757/so-part-0

Pull You Closer To My Heart

My appetite is swelling to gargantuan proportions
As I keep my gaze deadlocked on the clouds passing through the skies
Each second the clock strikes, feels like a little victory
I’m a caged leviathan ready to feel the sand on my belly again

It feels like a silly to infer
When you’re raised from a bud with the ideals of the city
But I never feel like I’m really alive, if I’m not surrounded
By these Mediterranean concepts sugar coated by rural gumdrops
These come in form of makeshift cafes, funded by a failed college fund
and neon clad penny munchers ready resurrect a dying youth
It’s clear I was made to act out my golden days here
I was born to live and die fantasising about the beach

There’d be no shame in indulging in this fantasy idealism
Of interpreting the coastal slums and rotting back alleyways
Into sun kissed pathways of golden bricks and Dali graffiti tags
As a solo exhibition, but I could use a witness
I hope they unlock the collar from your neck
I hope your mind is prepared for the barrage of eyes
I know you’re not always free to frolic when the landing lights blaze
I just want to cement your presence in my dream days

I can show you the soiled patios down the side of the corner shop
Where decade old fossils of fictitious duels of cardboard knights
And invisible dragons took place all I like
But you’ll never get any closer to origins of my ecstasy
Then on a windy noon in the middle of spring
Just past the claw’s and the Ice Cream vendors

Technical Forfeit

*Another one I wrote when I was a littlun found in an old college notebook from… I’m guessing I was 19?*

The glimmer of the screen on a Thursday afternoon
The burn of my skin as the projection seeps in
Drenched in a sea of anxity as the clock ticks
It’s only a matter of time untill we’re done for

She can’t undertsand the burden of the schedule
The fatcats havn’t prossesed the transition
I wish i could shower you with tickets and promises
But the accounts as empty as my heart

If the connections become severed you need to act
Send her a messege, send her a code, send her a reply
Cos if you don’t she will tear you appart from the inside
And the moment shall only be postponed

You must let the technical use you, you can’t let feeling win
You must know the technical, it can only know
Feeling will lie, feelings on her side, don’t forfit by default
You can’t lose on technicality, it’s all you’ve got now

A words like art are objective in this world
I would murder for the one chance to explain with words
Text is a mere image i can’t explain it anymore so
The divide shall only grow in time, interpritation is not on my side

What i’d do to be blessed by that golorius image
Of the green dot to terraform to the dotted bubble
These hours of scilence, have set my time in ice
Maybe you’ve understood, what i’ve been fighting for

Shackled (W.I.P)

Another Wednesday night spent in solitary confinement
With the soulless drones that regulate the beer stained stools
Clutching my nectar with one hand
Sinking my fingers in L’Oreal tinted forests with the other
It’d be around this time I’d of gotten your call
Bet all our wages in on branded mental antiseptics
I’m sure we knew our smiles were never true
But stricken with the weekday blues, what else was there to do?

We’re all just a bunch of confused kids
Backed up against the walls of our own convictions
The stupid things we’ll do when we’re urged to make a choice
Monetary debts, emotional obligations and clueless detective work
We’ll hang out, in an ‘outdated since the naughties’ fashion
In after hours children’s parks, as if to inspire a sense of youth

Does the empty feeling ever stop?
Does being hollow ever go out of fashion?

Channelling the spirit of the Swedish brewery itself
With it’s export valiantly nestled in your hands
You’ll re-adjust your spectacles as your turn your glare skyward
As if you’ve just clocked on to the diamond moon at the shop window
Stamping your heels into the shreds of bark
You’ll make the vow you’ll never let this town get you down
And that you won’t stop until your writing smash winter fireplace hits
As the sunset rains in through the blinds of your shoebox
With such a scorch in your belly, a gleam in your eyes
I had to say you outshone the moon

So It breaks my belief; that a life can be well spent
When I still spot your shadows around this domain, well past the due date
Caressing the scars we left behind for a sense of comfort
Entertaining silhouettes like we didn’t notice each other instantly
It breaks my heart to say; but I think this town’s got us beat
We’re both already dead, I just don’t think we know it yet

Does the empty feeling ever stop?
Does being hollow ever go out of fashion?
Does the desolate feeling ever go away?
Does being vacant ever stop feeling so right?

You deserve better then this
You deserve better then us

Dynamite (W.I.P)

Under the constant gaze of those who provide asylum
She could never even leave a shred of evidence
Of the werelass she becomes underneath the full sun’s gaze
The sleeves come apart, the trousers rip at the seams
As she howls at the sky, as if the scare away the night
She fully intends to take them up on there offers
As she dips her fingertips and palms in the paint
She doesn’t intend to leave without making her mark known

Leaving the states of the vicarious older boys
Like an skip nesting outside of a vacant council estate
They’re free to take anything inside, now she’s hit the road
Oh yes she’s dynamite
Shooting the sun’s glare the brightest smile

With the eyes of ego, pried open by the audience’s cheer
She spots the horizons the self tried so hard to hide
She see’s there’s so much to analyse and more to learn
See’s there’s a plethora of hosts to act as her avatar
She sits on the pavement with blue eyes
And draws profiles with hustled patio chalk
She lays on the soil with green shirt
And spots constelations contrasting with the void

They slink home after they escape the virgins gaze
Hoisting their collars sky high to mask the war wounds
Reeling from agony the second their backs hit the shower
Oh yes she’s dynamite
Shooting the dimples in the ceiling the brightest smile

Lucid Wishes

When your awaiting the spectre of pastel filters to enter your vision
I only ask of one favour for the man of your physical world
To just spare a thought or two in your lucid gateways
A second in your subconscious will cement the meaning in the words

I just want to surf the scan lines of your imaginary world
Be a part of the centre of your hallucinations
At the forefront of your sack of inspirations
That you reach into when your captivating your audience with your directions

And if I materialize while you skim for captivation
I’d pray you’ll stop on the channel

When your laying face down on the mattress
I hope it’s my name you murmur into the fabric
While your toes twitch and sway
While your eyes flicker and project

Teen Angst Beach Ass Life

So hey, when I’m not working on writing the words and the things I’m usually messing around making mix-tapes, like tons and tons of mix-tapes like… I need a profitable hobby amount of mix-tapes.

I kind of get a bunch of tracks together with a flowing narrative and add A TON of Foley and Sound Effects to help drive the story along, to try and make it a bit more of an experience if you want it to be. I dunno since I’m 100% inspired by music when I write I thought maybe some of you could benefit from it too? Give it a good ol’ play 🙂

This mix-tape is one of the first ones I made (God knows how many ladies have a copy of the first draft of this thing) and it’s about finding romance at the beach, cos I was made to live and die fantasizing about the beach, anyways enjoy!

Teen Angst Beach Ass Life

Counting Freckles (Actually Good Version)

I can’t articulate the anger I’m feeling right now at the Gaia
When the rays sneak past your curtains and intrude the picturesque scene
I couldn’t even conceive the idea of turning a band new page
Pushing the previous day to the side to start one without you
Take refuge with me within the darkness of the sheets
Under the covers where time is forced to cease
And the cancer rays have no chance of pierce through our reality
To me it’s still Sunday, hours pass like seconds and sonnets pass like comments

There’s no chance at coherent through or complex social patterns
My body is turned to stone and my mind moulded into cookie dough
All I can I do pay silent tribute to your adorable little grin
Your early morning mop, the auditory bliss of a morning yawn
It’s a self inflicted disability, but I couldn’t even begin to complain
So here we are at the advent of the afternoon, and I’m just counting freckles

And now we’re in a very special place, where we reject the visionary senses
But I can tell your resting your head on my chest, when I feel your respiratory rhythm
It feels like a waste to stay dormant when I’m teased by your perfect silhouette
The eyes may fail, but every follicle that comes into contact with mine
It paints a very clear picture of the masterpiece that lay before me
So I trace a Piccaso with my nails on the cavans that was gifted for me
Each corner I turn sends the signal for the hairs to reach for the skies
The goosebumps start to rise and your back begins to arch
You grapplehook my attention with that debilitating gaze
You don’t move a muscle and you wouldn’t dare say a word
But the ripples in the atmosphere that come from the flicker of your brow
I’ve bathed in the darkness long enough to know exactly what it is your asking for
So I start to change the course, and begin trace a figure eight
At the intersection where the sun never shines, yet still flourishes

My body is turned to stone and my mind moulded into cookie dough
All I can do is silently worship your illuminating kisses
So here we are, coming up to the tail end of the afternoon
And all I want to do is keep counting eyelashes

Counting Freckles (Horrible Late Night First Draft)

I can’t articulate the anger I’m feeling right now at the Gaia
When the rays sneak past your curtains and intrude the picturesque scene
The cancer rays tear through the security of the sheets
We take refuge under the covers, and kick the day off with a simple “Hello”

There’s no chance at coherent through or complex social patterns
My body is turned to stone and my mind moulded into cookie dough
All I can I do pay silent tribute to your cute little grin
Your early morning mop, the auditory bliss of a morning yawn
It’s a self inflicted disability, but I couldn’t even begin to complain
So here we are at the advent of the afternoon, and I’m just counting freckles

While I take hostile in your arms, you find a new home in the centre of my chest
In the presence of such flawless design, I’m compelled to serve and obey
So I trace a Piccaso with my nails on the canvas that lay before me
Each corner I turn sends the signal for the hairs to reach for the skies
The goosebumps start to rise and your back begins to arch
You grapple my hook my gaze with them big brown eyes
As you pose a request by the way you apply force to my wrists
I trace a figure eight in places the sun will never shine

*This is awful, but I’m keeping it as a reminder to NOT post first drafts ever, even when super tired and high on life, this forever will be a blight on my record looool*

The Sonic Cycle IRL (W.I.P)

Now don’t get me wrong, your optimism in your admiration for me is darling
The way your eyes rival the strobe lights when your clutch my hand
Making sure we never lose contact under the mercy of the dance floor
But it’s arrogant for you to assume your the first
And it’s naive of me to assume you’ll make sure your the last
When the sugar leaves your blood and the month comes to a close
And you come to meet me on a cloudy noon by the tennis courts
You’ll forfeit that twinkle in your eyes, just like the predecessors before you

You’re name starts the chimes in my memory
Your past credentials have impressed me fellow enigma
The origins may vary from person to person
The fairy tale has ended and my interest has waned
My self-esteem will be the catalyst to my laziness
But it always ends in the same way

I’m losing my faith, that anyone’s gonna break the cycle
No matter the creed, colour or class it always goes the same
What’s to stop me from disconnecting completely?
When the excuses are the same?
When they all lead the same?
When they’re all the same?

Try as I might I’ll never escape the wheels of fortune
The scene loops again like a broken vinyl
How typical when I open my body up, and let these sensual thunderbolts
Invade the gateways into their epicentres to provide that taste of heaven
All I did was ask for a little admiration in return
Then I’ll see the same drop in their smiles on my pillows

You’re my Betty Crocker interlude
To break up a conveyor of base processes
Then why do the texts suddenly stop?
You’re my mascot clad onesie
After hours of grinding in corsets and heels
Then why does your grip loosen from my hand?

I’m losing my faith, that anyone’s gonna break the cycle
No matter the creed, colour or class it always goes the same
What’s to stop me from disconnecting completely?
When they all get bored the same?
When they all lie the same?
When they’re all the same?

* From the Gynophobia series*