The lady in the black

Still… I sit
Against the wind

And I wish I could
Sit against it all
Water off a ducks back

Withstand every fall
Without falling to the black

But the whispers of the dark
Always beckon me back

And I know her well
So I’m always one word away
From being under her spell

I’ve tried meditation
All the fucking medication
Tried to find my philosophy

But I always come back
To the lady in the black

A blade on the skin
Feels better than the happiness
That never seems to sink in
Or the confidence
That never existed from within

Shedding skin
Till I’m nothing
It’s the only thing
That I find comforting
When the lady in black
Finds me running back



Bull in a china shop

I’ll let the bull out of his cage
But you won’t like what’s been contained
All this time pacing between this space
And the time that’s accumulated all this rage
Little bombs waiting to be engaged
Trying to be a better man
Wearing the face of calm
A monstrosity
Contorting inside
With years of screams
Creasing the faces
Pulling lips open by the seams
When am I gonna learn
That keeping bulls in cages
Makes it worse

And like a porcelain doll
I am broken….


I am done.

An accumulation of things

I‘m standing in the hallway
I forget why
Looking between the doors
At the walls that try to contain
This accumulation
Of thought
And all bought
A place that can’t contain me
Yet still stands.

Sadness enveloped in each room
Permeating an existence
Empty and cruel
With screens to look into
And forget this hell on earth
We all bought into
No room left for rebirth

Drew & Drake: An empty bottle full

Water gushed from the tap and into the bottle.
Drews gaze fixed on the steady stream, mind blank.
He awoke from his trance when Drake’s voice hollered from the living room, ‘How much water do ya need!’
Drew blinked and peered into the bottle, astounded by what he found he shouted back, ‘Oh my god, I think this bottle is magic or somethin’

Drake leapt up from the sofa, ‘Ya what?’ he padded into the kitchen, his face scrunched up with scepticism.

‘Look at this!’ Drew shoved the empty bottle in front of Drake’s nose. ‘Look there!’

Drake took the bottle from Drew’s hands and peered in. ‘Ya mean you’ve…’ Drake threw the bottle at the sink and leapt to turn the tap off, ‘Ya mean you’ve wasted all that water for nothin’?’

‘I ‘eld that bottle under that tap! I’m tellin’ ya the bottle never fills up!’

Drake rolled his eyes, picked up the bottle. ‘Ya probably just got a crack ‘ere.’ He said as he turned the bottle in his hands and felt around the plastic for any cracks or holes.
Drew leant on the fridge, arms folded. ‘Go on and try and fillin’ it up!’

‘For fuck sake, Drew! I’m lookin”

‘I’m tellin’ ya it’s fucking magic, Drake!’

Drake trailed his fingers all around the circumference of the bottle feeling and squeezing for any weakness.
Drake shook his head still disbelieving, ‘Ya jus’ t’ out ya head t’ know ‘ow to fill up a bottle!’ he slapped Drew n the back of the head, ‘ya dumb git.’
Rolling his eyes again, he held the bottle under the tap and switched the water on.

A few seconds ticked by, Drew getting angsty on his feet.
A minute ticked by and the water still poured out of the tap, and the bottle remained empty.

‘Wha the actual fuck?’ Drake spat.

‘But look!’ – Drake pointed to the bottom of the sink. – ‘No water is leaking out of the bottle and down into the drain! It makes no sense!’

‘Maybe it’s bigger inside than it is outside?’ Drew offered up, palms out in question.

Drake scoffed. ‘That’s not fucking possible.’ His knuckles turned white as he gripped the tap and turned it off. ‘I gotta call Bill!’
Upon stepping into Drew & Drakes squalid flat, with a smirk on his face, Bill started, ‘Well, well what we got goin’ on with you guys this time, eh?’

‘We got a magic bottle is what we got!’ Drew said.

Drake waved Drew’s words away, ‘It ain’t magic!’

‘So why you got all excited and called me up?’ Bill asked.

‘I want your take on the situation.’ Drake started toward the kitchen, motioning with his head, ‘Come on!’

Bill followed and looked at the plastic bottle, ‘so why is it magic?’

‘It’s a bottle that never fills up!’ Drew said excitedly.

Bill did the same as Drew had done and ran his fingers all around the plastic, looking for any holes or cracks.
Finding no fault, he shrugged his shoulders and turned the tap. ‘Now let’s see,’ he muttered to himself.
The sound of the water gushed between them while a cartoon played out on the TV in the living room. Bill turned the water off, put the bottle down and tilted his head, ‘Well,’ he pursed his lips, ‘I’ll be damned!’

‘See! It doesn’t fill up!’ Drew rocked back on forth on his feet with agitation and excitement.

Bill scratched his head, ‘it makes no sense.’

‘Or it’s bigger on the inside than it is outside!’ Drew repeated

‘That’s impossible!’ Bill baulked

Drake put the kettle on and leant against the kitchen worktop, ‘It’s not the…’ an idea occurred to him as the hum of the kettle resonated in his ears, ‘A watched kettle never boils!’ he beamed suddenly.

‘What?’

‘What?’
Both Drew and Bill said in unison.

‘y’ know that sayin’? The one where if you watch a kettle it never boils.’ Drake skidded toward the sink and placed the bottle on the drain before turning on the tap. ‘Now turn around and don’t look!’ Drake checked that the water was aiming at the right spot to land in the bottle then turned around.
‘Well, that’s one theory out the window!’ Bill said.
All of them stood around the sink, looking down at the bottle.

‘I’d swear I was high If I knew I hadn’t smoked anything t’day!’ Drake remarked.

‘And I never smoke anything and it ain’t filling up for me either!’ Bill added.

Drew asked, ‘So if it’s not a magic bottle, what is it?’

Drake and Bill looked at one another than at Drew.
‘Don’t have a fuckin’ clue!’ Drake shrugged.

Sitting on the couch tired of trying to figure it out the TV kept their attention until adverts interrupted the cartoon.
‘you know what it might be?’ Drake asked casually.

‘Magic?’ Bill asked.

Drew grinned, ‘I knew it!’

‘What if it’s a physical manifestation of a metaphor!’ Drake beamed.

‘A metaphor for what?’ Bill slid to the edge of his seat, his car keys dangling from his fingers.

‘Life,’ Drake replied. No longer beaming with enthusiasm and curiosity, he slumped back on the sofa. ‘Life,’ he repeated through a deflated breath.

‘It’s magic is what it is, and I stick by it!’ Drew sat back and folded his arms.

With a sudden movement, Drake lifted himself off the couch and threw the remote at the TV.
The remote hit the screen and the picture went fuzzy over a perfume advert.