The Fray

Days and hours,
A week,
Maybe a month
I lurk in the shadows.

Find facilitation,
Take feeling,
Still it never has enough of the good stuff.
Drinking beginning fluids
Still never quenching
The depths in my bones
Only a brown fog of

I see greed
Pouring out of me
Through need
And want to feed
On power
On feeling
On what?
You’ve got high’s and lows inside of you
You’re full of it
Makes me queasy

So day in and day out
Burns out
It becomes a chore and my muscles become sore
Burned out
I’m inspired up to my neck
And I can’t breath anymore

Songs in my head…
Loud silence.
A vessel of violence
Touting peace.

Resuscitate my childhood…

I wait
Let my stomach empty
And detail come to me
My ears hear the brustles of the brush
The crunch of feet on the stones
I slow,
Indulge in self
Until the fray fades
Into nothing

And the tug of war’s ending
Flowing out like a sea
And a turtle carries me
Now life’s clear,
I just need to be

Laughing, Learning,
Riding the wind
Observing yearning,
No swallows,
A sentiments ending’s
Never hollow

Just following the beat
Of the feet of a heart
I had stop
For it to start

The Fray…

It nearly tore me apart.



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Photograph by mali maeder



Me you and the blues
Shut out the silence
Flushed away
Pave the way
We don’t want to see the bones anymore

White sheets and bed linens
Sunlight and songs written
She’s bed ridden
Play a tune and keep her in the mood
For life gets in the way sometimes
You’ve got to go with it
Hit it back and get to roll with it
And you’ll get to know it
It’ll only take a minute





When We’re Tired

When we’re tired we just keep writing

When we’re tired the words don’t spill anymore

I look into my head and find something resembling foggy nothings

I find empty corridors and full closets

Tiredness is a word for ‘I don’t know’

Or the decisions I’ve made in the past week

Or the things I wish I could have written

I feel weak

My hope is that one day I will be rid of tiredness

Put an end to the problem of energy

One day inspiration will knock me upward

And I will have the perfect routine

And my body won’t fail me

And I’ll be living the dream, one day

…Tonight I’m tired though.

Tonight is the night where I stay up late and watch youtube videos,

because it will make me feel better.

Tonight I will cook broccoli at 1 in the morning,

because I’m hungry and I can’t eat breakfast.

And then I’ll eat sugar treats

because they taste nice

and I’m living life


I woke up at 12.





Am I failing my body?

I won’t fail my body.

won’t fail my body.

One day I will conquer my problems

I will start on a new day.

When I get to bed on time,

and I’m in the coffee shop at 7.

Tiredness is a problem for the week.

Try again on a tomorrow okay?

Keep writing

Keep wr






“Big Issue!”

God, she’s always there, so annoying. Down through the quieter streets, thinking, looking, headache; shit.

I stop and make a note on my phone; the next idea that people centuries away will dig up somehow and realise.

Walking past ‘SmootheI’s’. It’s that girl again, shit. My legs keep walking and I bend over, put my hands on my legs and stare at the floor. Reversing my stride, I walk myself into the Smoothie shop. There she is serving customers. I’m second in line, shit her eyes look so pretty today, she’s always smiling when I see her.

First in line:

“Hi there how can I help you?”

I open my mout-

“Can I have a Jasmine, strawberry and caramel love?” An older guy behind me spoke.

“You can have what ever you can afford.”

I’m standing right here. Why can’t she see me? I’m going red and I just want to swear at myself really loudly. Everything looks like a painting and I’m not in it.



Why the fuck did that happen?! I don’t even remember walking away. It’s still the only thing that I can think about. Now I’m sat here eating biscuits and I feel sick. More biscuits.

The cupboards are empty. Television. It’s late. Alcohol? No… I can’t hurt myself like that, just go to bed…

I can taste my pillow, wet and salty, and my breath sounds like a steam train on a cold crisp morning.



It’s morning down the quieter streets. Say it: “Black coffee to go please.”

So many other coffee shops. Why get one in a smoothie shop?

Open the door, step towards the counter and look and the board. She is standing in front of me. Look at the board. She’s not looking, she’s smiling at the floor. Look at the board a little longer.

“Black Coffee to go please.”

She’s just smiling at the floor. Ignoring me again, she always ignores me. Why won’t she notice me? Why won’t she fucking notice me?

“Can I have a black coffee please, Love?”



Fire and pain.


She looks up.

“Why don’t you ever see me?!”

“I see you.” She said.


I feel like I am falling. Light headed, I smile, shaking facial tension. I turn my back to her while my legs walk me out of the door.

“Big issue.”

I can’t even think. I don’t even know. I don’t even know.

*Thump*. It sounded like the thump of my heart on the against my ribcage.

Screaming like babies. They are wailing, the people behind me, the other locals on the quieter street. I turn.

There she is, lying there: a pile of limbs. The red treacle on the floor pours into my eyes and darkness enters through my ears filling my head with a silent hush.

“Big issue! Come and get your big issue!”

Nobody bought the big issue. Not even one.