To assert.

I can't wait,

but still, I hesitate.

You arrive like a tornado,

a bomb

about to blow,

and assume all will

be as you desire,

your clothes drying in

my funeral's pyre.

But you meet resistance, mine,

unwilling to let this slide.

Shocked, you reel,

and realise you were wrong.

This is how I feel,

and this is my song.

Rowdy neighbours...

Sleep easy,

I can hear you singing

soaked in alcohol,

not quiet but not clear.

I wish you'd turn it up,

blast it out, 

louder,

so I could hear

the cacophony

become fear

through sirens

and flashing lights.

~This was written a few nights ago at 3amish 'inspired' by loud, clearly inebriated, neighbours. 

mix-tape paint.

These jarring lines

from my ears to my mind

from metallic to melted in 60 milli.

No troubles either but no fun really.

A vacuous enjoyment, ready made,

As empty as light when it is in shade,

a useless entity falling apart,

a black hole where there used to be a heart.

train lit.

Rolling

hills,

people

far away,

long journey,

train sways.

In my mind

I'm there

already

a meaning

assigned

to my inner

journey

bends and

brakes.