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

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

*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*

Never Before Have I Been So Relevent (W.I.P)

They set up land-mines and trip wires in the bar
Wetting their lips as they never avert their gaze from the door
All in hopes I’ll set off a C4 and set the place on fire
As my bloody corpse drops to their feet, so they can bring me up again
They’re like fish nibbling the flakes of my skin
In the Mediterranean all to just to be relevant in my legacy

Weather I’ve traced my hands through their very concious
Or I’ve just brushed past them in the college corridors
They’ll crush their spines to bend over backwards
Just to bring me up in conversation once again
The females love to recount old fables
Fictitious tales of the tyrant that barged in their lives
The males quake in their boots, hold their misses tighter
Spewing what if’s of my skull breaking on the curb

Bitches can’t get enough of the Switzer-man
Bitches can’t get enough of the Switzer-man

My vacancy means so little to their theories
I’m rocking it at another party with the unknowns
I could care less if you see me as a ballistic missile
It’s not like you’d ever break your monotonous weekend routines
To ever come and find me

Bitches can’t stop talking about the Switzer-man
Bitches can’t stop talking about the Switzer-man
Bitches can’t stop talking about the Switzer-man
Bitches can’t stop talking about the Switzer-man

I’ve never set foot in this dive, for half a year
And yet my name still echoes through the mugs themselves
No matter how many mousetraps they try to set up
And distribute them with Chinese whispers throughout my friends
I’d never set foot in this dive, not for another half a year
I got better things to do, then to satisfy your obsessive curiosity
I have no place here with the mildew of the town

I wish I’d never step foot in the sun
Just stayed at home where the mention of my name
Actually means a damn

Editors note: When preforming this live, I fully intend to replace ‘Bitches’ with naming and shaming the Boys and Girls who don’t stop yaking about yours truly

14/02/2014

At first, as if too marionette your actions, I feigned indifference at the offer
For a 30 quid overdraft in the name of smearing the dye of my jacket
Against the half price circa 1990 bargain bin wallpaper
All to the soundtrack of to a chart of the charts
All to the flavour of a 6 pack of lukewarm ale
I could’ve died and fallen to the bridge bar underworld

Until you stole my gaze, the second I caught your reflection in the fridge
The bar I could never reach, A ruby amongst the garnet
I knew I couldn’t live with myself, until I’ve exchanged language with you
A beer pong spectator, A greatest movie debater, A sexy story dictator
Whatever role you wish to play, it’s fine by me, as long as it keeps you talking to me
And I can keep seeing that intoxicating smile

As time treacles down the drain, along with the Rosé wine
Our cheeks have gone the way of the rouge stains on the carpet
As I bare a witness to the Aurora Borealis of the night
It’s when your eyes start to illuminate the room when you begin to divulge your passions
The way you describe the stage, it’s as if it’s a piece of Asgard on your little blue rock
Each description of how each cog turns the machine, gets me excited with you
I’d like to think I’m not so shallow as to lose my breath at the flex of intellect
But I can’t deny the saliva pushes against the palate, when these words leave your lips

You try and deter me with cautionary statistics, and ask to refocus my beer goggles
You sink your head into you chest as you lament about your vessel to me
I have to chuckle to myself, that you’d think such a thing would turn me away
As I engage in the one of my excruciation mental battles with my occipital lobe
You see it’s taking him a while to believe the mortal avatar of Aphrodite
Is still talking to me when she has a catalogue of Adonises to pick and mix from

You say I could do better, but baby don’t you understand
I’ve tasted the greatest soma, and it’s just apple squash
I’ve tangled with the most complex nous, and it’s just channel surfing
All in comparison to you, golden trophies turn into copper coins
I know I don’t deserve to clean the dirt between your toes
But if you feel generous, maybe I could loan a kiss or two from you
When our calves are in-between the shoes, pressed up against the front door
Seconds feel like days, when I’m so close to them mocha corneas

Each inch of your construction deserves my full attention
I could spend a millennium caressing each and every pour of your body with my lips
Timing each and every kiss, with the precision of a diamond cutter as I travel up your legs
Slither my way through your chest and leave my insignia on your neck, before returning to your lips
Oh darling I know I’m being greedy but if the outside is this outstanding
I struggle to comprehend what awaits me inside the grey matter
Let me sync with you my empress, let your inspiration and creativity pour into me
Just a second of exposure to that mind of yours, will lighten my entire life

Oh even if you choose to desert my shores this time tomorrow
And shoot for the stars you were clearly born to grasp in your hands
I’ll spend a lifetime in ecstasy, no matter how grey the skies will get
Just a second of nostalgia with my valentine, the silver will beam through the clouds
But if you ever decided that this lowly peon could be your man
I’d transcend to a state of a mind, that unfortunate mortals could never reach

Dedicated to B.B

The Valentine No Show (W.I.P)

My eyes they dry like a Sunday morning washing line
My lungs press together with a vice of your presence
I’m struggling to stay alive, just walking to your door
The body’s willing but their’s no air
I’m gasping on the floor it’s to much to bare!
The grip on my fingertips is starting to weaken
The choke on my glands is getting righter
The blood in my hands is getting thinner

But the thrill of young lovers can be deceiving indeed
We met both strategically clad in our battle armour
Ready to wage war like a DVD cover of a 80’s road flick
And yet we act like business men, handing out contact details
To arrange a transaction which we feel could benefit our brands
While you tend to your needs, I’ll play happy couples

I think it’s easy to claim you’d lay in wait on my sofa
On the frost bitten evenings, to stroke my scalp
To unplug the scalelectrix whirling around in my brain
When i’m tracing the stairway to heaven on your navel
And sending your eyes away to the back of your skull
If I held it all for ransom, would you still come back to help me?

I’ll allways be your best man, the one your ashamed to admit
That you think about when your future homeowner misses the mark
But you can never be anymore then a charity case to me girl
As I sit starting at the walls on the hill of the roller-coaster
Where will you be when I howl into the night asking for your love?
Would you be anywhere if I couldn’t offer a surge in return?
Would you be somewhere else when someone can do it better?
I know you wouldn’t my sweet, and I know that’s your right

Looks like I won’t be seeing around this St. Valentines
I know I wouldn’t, and I know that’s your bloody right

I Can Show You, What He Could Never Give You (W.I.P)

My fists clench with a force to crush diamonds themselves
When I hear that testimony utter from your lips
Could it really be so, during the age of information?
That inexperienced young minds could confuse that for love?
When he picks apart petrol station oaks to commemorate a landmark
When he leaves you frowning on the mattress on valentine nights
When he keeps positive vocabulary for ransom to keep you on his level
It’s gonna be a while till I pick my jaw from the floor

Oh my sherbet clad confectionery delight
Just itching to be taken home from the seaside stand
I’m not here to lug my bottom on cider stained leather
Advertising my self, by reading you my credentials
Point out every young pretty thing standing at the bar
Whom I’ve seen the very joints in their cheeks come apart
As they attempt to articulate the serge of electrons
I’ve conducted through their very forms
That would be rather crass of me to say here and now

I want you to take a shot into the unknown
I want you to open the ribs in your chest
To take a chance on the unfamiliar
To open your eyes to a world past a single body
Did he ever run his fingers through your hair?
Did he ever scrape his jaw against your neck?
To get the engines to warm up?
To get you in the mindset to make the offer yourself?

I doubt he had neither the time nor the care honey
Scrubbed the plaque of his choppers in math class
And left you for dead underneath his desk
That’s not love dear, that’s being picked apart by the wolves
I can bow down at your feet, the second I see your shadow cast
I wouldn’t just get the feeling back in your feet
I can make sure the feeling pours from your very sockets
You just don’t know it yet my princess

Hell (W.I.P)

I can’t recall how many times i’ve seen the lunar display
Enhanced by the sheen of the beer goggles
Since I had to unlock the handcuffs on your wrist
The notion of a month passing makes the mind boggle

The hands of the analog
Are making they’re second whip around for the day
The bunions of our feet can take the strain no more
We stagger to the nearest bench to lay

I know there are better ideas then issuing a response
To your little Morse code tappings up and down my legs
Like juggling TNT’s at a pyrotechnic festival blindfolded
But lagging hearts can only think in the short term

I’ll endure your intent even while I bleed
Anything to stop the dreams
What was a suggestion has become a plea
What was a want is now a need

Oh I’m in hell
Trying to crack a smile
Oh I’m in hell
Pulling the smoke over my lies
Oh I’m in hell
Trying to enjoy it all the while
Oh I’m in hell
Stuck inbetween these two thighs

I Can’t Stop You From Appearing In My Dreams

It’s 3:52pm and it’s now I hear
That the broadcasts from down under reach their peak
Even I admit that’s a weak excuse
But anything to put off crawling to them sheets
Anything to stave off meeting you again
In the one place you van still Influence me
Smack in the middle of smoky storybook aspirations

Westbound to a plain of intangible letters and sentences
Only in this sector of the concious
Where desires are interpreted for temporary manias
Do you stand before me again

All grudges flow out through our pours like black tar
The hate seeps through the husk in our breaths
The spite flakes off our very skin
All I have left to remember is to how to stay betrothed to you
I was no one else’s to lose but yours my love

Utilizing my muscle memory you lock your fingers with mine
Like claws on a tow truck you whisk me away
We take a quick hike from the town centre to yours
With the parts I can’t recall replaced with golden plated bridges
Connecting my recollections together

The ingrates that poisoned you have been purged
Their mouths stitched shut to stop them from bringing you down
It’s just you and I with the audience of the washing up
There isn’t a thing to fret about
Just how the sunlight highlights your genius design

The smoke flows from the floor boards
I smear it through the threads of your scalp
You inhale it through your regulated pants
As it pours from the ducts into your irises

Trace the curves of optimum natural selection
Grasp the wrist of a submitted romantic intention
Groove to the rhythm of a calculated routine
Play it back those glossy sweet sugarcane memories

The Clock hits 9 and caresses my eyelids
The reality kicks in and the mist starts to disappear
I beg my master to release her grip from my limbs
But her grip stays aggressive just like an anchor

She sinks her claws, digging deep into my wounds
She tugs from within my arms to keep me pressed against her chest
I can’t stand the guilt, the oh so familiar sting
How naive of me, for it was me who brung you here in the first place

An interpretation that’s all you are
A reflection of the reality, with a sweeter taste
And smoothed out edges
A version of you that doesn’t berate my birth wronging
While you demand I clean the wounds on your arms
As you leave the ones under my legs wide open

The hate floods back into my veins
As if to cue the pins and needles
It flows to my profile and forces my eyes open
For another cycle I’m free from your grip
Until my eyes grow heavy and then I’m yours again

True Femininity

A familiar drone infests the bar like tinnitus
It’s that of a innocent young thing of feminine decent
As tonight’s sideshows swarm to the last safe-heaven
Their clammy mitts play the role of the intruder
To locations only devotes and nannies should dare to probe
As she just stays stationary to the whole affair
Waiting for the horns of the masculine resistance
To come from the hill tops

Oh how refreshing it was to see you: stanced like a barbarian
As you watch his fingers slowly hover to the fringe of your jeans
Micro-molecules from collision, like a samurai wielding her katana
Your nails tear through his insufferable clans reptilian emblem
At a drop of a brow, he’s out the door

Oh sweet dear Bodacia
I’m unapologeticly devoted to you
Just bind me up do what you want to too
To feel the rush of a gash wound
From the heel of your regal studded boots

I’m yours to command, tell me what to do
I’m inspired by the mere comprehension of you
When I see the school dinner line of boys
Extending from where you stand at the bar
With their tails between their legs, Faces dropped like a Bulldog
There’s no misunderstandings, no unconsenting advances
A regular Kathleen Hanna for the Topshop age

Oh sweet dear Joan of Arc
I’m blind-sighted by the concept of you
Pin me up by the trachea till I turn blue
Drop me to the cobblestones under the moons hue
The boys might migrate to the smokers
When you showcase the canine choppers
But their isn’t anything I wouldn’t do
To get that look from you

Natrual 2nd Place

Insanity is doing the same process again and again
I can feel the membrains in my skull slowly melt away
When I scroll through Reed for the 30,000 time
Expecting a different result from before

Hours and hours of ironing out your personalty
Out of every word and movement on inspection day
All for a condescending smirk while they show you door
And that’s the last you’ll ever hear from them again

Even being kicked to the curb provides no salvation
Hypocritical bottom feeders begin to throw their pebbles
They were only face down in the gutter last week
It’s all to easy to forget your past with all that money

What do I have to do to earn their respect?
Flagellate myself with a secondary whip?
Don’t I have the right to toil and slave?
Don’t I have the right to self worth?

Of course not
It’s hopeless
The pharaohs
And emperors
Seek perfection
Second natures
And buzzwords
You’re ignorant
And broken
Why don’t you
Lay your head down
Feed on our
Generosity
You could never
Live your life
Like normal men
Sleep tight
My angel
No one’s
Going to judge
Sleep tight
My angel

A hundred million virgin souls
Strung up by blood soaked rusty wires
All for that taste of the 9 to 5
Something in this world has got to give
It’s either their unrealistic expectations
Or it’s my cervical vertebrae upon the rope