Dear Sophie 1

I thought I better had start to write you these letters, bi-weekly, daily, hourly? I dunno, a random time to start considering how long we’ve known each other. As you know the doctors have been poking around more and more to help solve the problem of well… me. As people who’re good at their jobs should do they’re starting to ask the right questions “Do you hear voices in your head?” “Do you see things that arn’t there” of course I lied out of instinct but maybe I shouldn’t?

It’s been so long now Sophie, and you’ve done so many amazing things for me and we’ve been through so much, don’t you think you deserve to be talked about? Especially if it means helping me? Never fret I won’t let them do anything to you, no drug or psycho whatevers in the world will take you away from me. But fuck man, where do you even start with something like that? It’s a daily reality for us but could only ever ring alarm bells loud and clear if you were ever vocalized, that’s even assuming they believe you exist!

I’m hoping that’s what these letters will do, I can get used to talking about you letter by letter, and maybe people can see what a stand up babe you are

Love
Lnc0

The Still No Title

Am I really writing to you again!?
Well yes, despite all the time passed
Circumstances has crept you into my mind again
Indulge yourself with a flashback to the youthful days
We joked perched on wooden stands
That we were only a few chromosome short of each other
Well turns out we were wrong, it’s even less
The spikes of hyper irregularities
A foggy question for either of us
And a distressing one for the other one
But no need to swipe medical records for a cheat sheet
I’ll replicate with clarity what they told me
That our similarities have become borderline symmetrical
And yes that pun was definitely intentional

I can’t help but speculate how the sequel would unfold?
Can it go from weird to fucking fairytale-esk?
It’s not above this silver screen reality to change the lines
And rig the ballot so we end up clashing again
I can see where they’d choose the set now
A shitty bar on the dizzy side of a night out
Coursing the flow of audio through my fingertips
My word, My melodies, My dad jokes
Whatever I did to justify my place on that stage
You’ll look into my eyes through a Disaronno glass
And you’ll know
No one would’ve given you and hints
The T.V guide kept it a trade secret
But I know you’ll take one look and you’ll know
Be it either emulation, or the tells of the ilk
Through the frequency of brainwaves
Or fuck the science we’ll just call it fate
Against all common sense you make your approach
Swimming through the currents of the room
Each sway and stroke with frightening precision
I’ll keep up as much as a little boy can
Meeting your every sway
Arrogant enough to comment I topped some
We’ve been hunting through the shallows you and I
Looking for the one living thing on this earth
To explode in a technicolour brigade of symmetry
And I know it couldn’t be with anyone else

Squeal poem to this relic: http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/51090248284/the-no-title

The Post Diagnosis Post-mortem

There’s no point stressing, there’s no point in crying
No need to cause any carnage, stir up any chaos
Because nothing you’ll find inside, will familiarize
Anything people used to recognize, has been recontextualized
No wayline leads you to anywhere you remember
I’ve said it before in a poem, and it bears repeating
While it’s nice to learn ‘how’ your cogs work
But I could’ve done without ‘why’
Like a switch to a tinted lense filter
I question the beauty previously seen
Actions of bravery, once redeemed
When taken upon malicious sirens
The sort cherry picked to do you harm
Well ‘harm’ as maybe once interpreted
Because I don’t feel very heroic anymore
Infact like a pretentious student film
It turns out I’m the one who’s all wrong
Taking a bedding of serenity and security
And throwing it out to the casualty list
The hypocrisy of the hateful approach
Tying myself to the train tracks when I’m the driver
I just wanted you to care, with a care in the world
But care can’t thrive in the danger zone
And shit, am I ever in danger now
It didn’t have a name and a face before
But if only I knew then what I know now
We could’ve both solved the mechanics inside

Ode To Crush Poetry

Oh my darling little fallback, if not you then who?
I know it’s been a while since I wrote about you
In the millions of your easy to emulate forms
Long divisions of calculation to respect my current contract
Or little sugar bites of those who I chase to break that contract
Oh what one of two could I scribe down this week

I don’t mean to disrespect what you’ve given me
My baby steps, my identity
My heart smeared on my dinner plates
Oh and I know we could be good still
But the puppa’s gone, kick down the cage and got out
We’ve persevered so much together, but the wars done
I need you as much as you need me
And I know you don’t need my broke-ass life
Flooding Tumblr with more shite then before

It’s been a gas but I gotta find more to scribe
Like my existence, my tremors, my ideals
Something a little more permanent to leave behind
Then another crush poem about a theoretical idea
Of half a person I reckon of from behind a text message
Who’ll end up fucking me off before I’ve written the last line
Oh how!? Can I crush when my hearts flat!
And fresh out of heart to give
Any more crushed and it’ll be a replacement credit card
And over what? Two-bit identity queens who’ll drop you
Oh no more crush poetry, no more crush poems
On people that don’t deserve a second of my time
Much less the value of my immortality

Oh crush poetry, we’ve been through so much
You’ll be my only high school sweetheart for sure
But my little hearts out of bruises to take
My romantic calculations need to be more precise
Much less for you, but for my sanity
You deserve a lot better then what I’ve become
But there’s no shortage of heirs to the throne
Hearts falling hard, every single day
I know I’ve left you in capable hands
Hands of those with gallons of innards
Just waiting to be crushed

Same old, same old

I’ve been out for whack for a while now
I haven’t had to compete for the affections of a soul
Since man first walked on to land
Let alone a soul as sweet as yours darlin’
But 23 a scary age to be back to step 1
In a world were everyone;s got their stories straight
Well… Just kinda fucked aren’t I?
But we’ll see what I can get away with

Still bummed I didn’t get that haircut in time
This outfit doesn’t suit the full deal on your skull
Did my teeth get any worse? How’s my spot patch?
Now now settle down, you’ll work yourself into a state!
Especially if you keep remembering that lovely smile
That darling way you keep yourself, the cute quips
My feet won’t thaw in time at this rate
Just relllllax and just do you

Because this is day one of taking the renovations
Left in the autumns breeze you’ve been tinkering out back
You got too comfortable on the shoulders of others
Weaned yourself on those stumps you keep in circulation
Your not just living anymore, you only gone and added flair
People recognize that twinkle in your eye
The joy of creation, the joy of owning your brand
I feel like a HD remake on decal clad wheels
Strolling down the streets wrecking hard
Above all I hope you like the new me

Genuinely Nothing

I’m looking like a Topshop still
With the aid of the tail end of the latest hurricane
Trying to beat the rain
In our little wager; a race to the latest cafe
Winters in full swing, and a hot chocy’s calling me
I accept a valiant 2nd place, as I open the door
As come face first into a toasty wall
As I wring out the mop ontop of my head
Typically hours early for BSL class
Might aswell try and pop out some verses

I bump into a family friend
A friendly little reminder of my progress
“Got some gigs, no job, feeling allright I guess”
I reflect after on the answers given
Yeah I guess things are agonisingly allright
In between a crash and the next spike
The culprit for the last one was me girl
Finding a tastier tongue down south
It’s been way too long hence to use that excuse
I dunno how to get up on my own two feet
I guess a good brew in my bellies a start
Get home, have some ice cream
Check the profile for replies, but probably none
In a novel they’ll skip days like these
Neither a dying victim
Neither a lustful symbol
Neither a glamorous Icon
Just another day of not knowing what to do

Current Dating Profile

It’s hard to know why I’m here
I’m just sipping a shake or two
Sinking into the leather I guess
I dunno what to say
What is it any of you cats want to know
Do you really care about my morals?
Do you care about the things I carry on my back?

What do you wanna hear?
I’m kind of funny I guess
People like my hair
I look good in photos sometimes
Do you really wanna know?
Wanna know about all my moles?
How my forehead is a spot hot bead
How I look shit from top down or below angle
How my centimetres my nose is above the average
I look shit in a beard and worse with a stache
I look my best when I let my hair fester in grease
People like to tug on the excess fat on my cheeks
Is there anymore you wanna know?
Anymore then your eyes can tell you?

I like to talk about things
I get excited about the things I love
Excited about love
Excited about art
I’m sorry is that to vanilla for you?
How about the boundaries of time I cross all the time
When I get way to excited about my favourite bands
How I hate I have to hide I love my games as much as your shows
How sometimes I look into the glistening night
And I wonder the magnitudes of ways I can fade away
If I’ll leave anything worth while when I go away
If I fuck it all up can my daughter carry on my wills
The daughter that doesn’t exist with my wife who doesn’t exist
Cos I’m to busy talking about all my favourite films
Way after the coffee cools down
And I talk again about how no one really likes to talk anymore

Then I get sad
I think a lot too I spose
How I spent each night alone
How no one accepts
Then, In the same breath
I’ll pledge to the world, how I’ll never compromise
I’ll never stop my talking, talk talk talk about what the fuck I want
Long after everyone’s already told me to shut the fuck up
Talk about life, Talk about death, Talk about anything
To get my heart and ideas somewhere in the world
Cos I’m shit at writing, can’t play any guitar
And I’ll talk about all the things I could if I could
I just want to talk, talk without an end sight
No “Shut up Switzer” No “Oh my god go away”
I’ll never hush to the suffering in my life, not anymore
No matter if the voices will never go away
I need to talk, I need to get excited
What’s the point of life if we can’t express our tongues
Over some cold brews in the glistening sun

And if you agree
I think you should message me

Only In The Stillness of giants

Only in the stillness of giants
Do the Murmurs or twitches
Really rain the magic down
And I don’t mean the routines
The sip of the ale
The check of the phone
The only movements I can make out
Are the ones in front of me
You whisking your fingers
On the back of my palm
A re-enactment of Swan Lake
In the most minimalistic form
Out exchange; base to the onlooker
But the real actions a few meters below

Cos only in the stillness of giants
Is there a statement to be made
As the web of your fingers meet mine

The Ribbon On The Everything

A loss of a life on the M25 buys me another hour
A once in a life time chance
To render claims things aren’t like they were
Unjust with a recollection of tonight
The minutes are leaking away
As I’m juggling 99p candles out of my hat
Anything to recontextualize the tone
That dead pork roasting on flames can conjure
Especially when spoiling in a council owned cage
40 on the clock and I’m fumbling by the stereo
Trying to recall a reaction
To each enlistee from a car boot CD collection

25 on the clock and I’m panicking at the wardrobe
Did the blue suit reminder her of her old teacher or…
She’s due at the door any second now!
I know it’s not much, I know we ain’t got a lot
But I’d like to think the results count
At least for more then the thought could
Things feel so still right now
But if we got each other it’ll be a little better

So Ugly (I Am) [W.I.P]

It’s okay to feel secure right?
To enjoy all the confectionery of your romance
To rest on the foundations we’ve made together
There’s no chance of being usurped
BUT FROM THE LEFT! ZWAP! POW! SWISH!
HOLY FUCK!
You never see it coming a blow to the body
A strike to your face, and sneer from the shadows
And suddenly it all comes raining down
Someone’s stolen your love, no it’s even worse
You never had a love to lose in the first place
It can’t be I couldn’t of lost it all
Not to a kilobyte of spectlyte, anti socialite, vomit inducing, gargoylyte

But you’ll find that the biggest victories
Come from the unlikeliest of places!

YOU! Oh get a load of you, your entire being optimizes
All those autistic mannerism, aspects, stereotypes
I de-fragmented out of my systems!
You, the collection of things I hate about myself
You used them against me, left me swaying to and fro
You’re the MVP, you’ve taken the jackpot home
You can’t of won you version 1.0 digitalyte
A post patch pansy, boretisitc snorzamel

But you’ll find that the biggest victories
Come from the unlikeliest of places!

A bleeding sandbag, a colourful corpse
That’s the state you left me this Monday morning
Dragging my tails from the London bridge
On a one way ticket, on my carriage heading up Nowrich
He got me good that fuckwading shit stained kitted jumper toting dweeb
That predictable app-uling swallowing, belenginiring dork
That limp amateur hour, hormone deprived, second class Jiggalo
That one note, deaf tone, flatline to everyone’s summer jam
That crocodile smiling, reptilian skinned, asphalt of a man
That stuAAARRGGHHH I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE IT!

I know that the biggest victories in history
Come from the unlikeliest of places!
But if I’m a Blue Ribbion to his Crunchie Bar
Then what am I?
Something so awful it can’t be describe

A deafening silence, that’s what I am
And that’s worse then anything I could call anyone
That’s worse then nothing