Gone

The bed is red

The smell makes me nauseous

Reality she says

I roll over

Little pieces of me cut off 

Peppering the sink

My body

My word

A calamity so nameless

We can no longer mutter what it means

I measure my loss

On the frayed edges of her blue dress

Hours 

Minutes

Years

Bleeding

Weeping

Dusty

Gone

Did you find everything you need today

I search my memory

Time 

Place

Being

It is all an empty vessel

A stone left alone

Praying for a beach

A glass of water

The powder pickles in a jar

Jam and plums

Sugar and stars

It easy as pie

See

Gobble gobble

Swallow

Choke

Throw it over our bestest frock

Like rice

At a wedding

Marrying ourselves 

My veins bled dry

Calmly

Indignantly

What are we looking for Alice

The question rubs salt in my shoulders

You know

You have always known

A beginning

Or an end

Locks on the windows

Nets on the door

How can forward be so difficult

She wrinkles her nose

Picks the sugar from her teeth

Because you have no fire inside silly

The stains are dead energy

They turn your sheets red

But they do not turn your head

The bed is red

The smell makes me nauseous

Reality she says

I roll over.

Animate

They tried to animate me you know

I didn’t like it

My skirt was pale blue 

I am sure it should have been brighter

Who wants soft edges and pastel blue

Duck eggs and magnolia

It really was quite ghastly

I look into her eyes

Placid 

Blue

Water

If you kiss me

The sun will go out

The storm brushes us 

Out

To sea

To see

Hmm 

She chews her fingers

They are still tough 

Coated in dead skin

Hell

Help

One slip of a letter makes all the difference

Or not I say

Morphing

Manic

Mayhem

The spider falls out the getting high box

Words and time replayed

I could scream for mother

But I am not quite sure what that means

We should go electric she squeals

I understand them now

Her squeals

They elevate the flat line

Turn the truth 

Nondescript to quirky

When really it hurts

Is it pain

Can emptiness and nothing be pain

Oh do shut up

Lots of people sleep with the curtains open

Who wants to be trapped in alone

I should know 

I’ve been stuck behind hundreds and thousands 

Mirrors and doors

It really does get tiresome

Not at all like cake topping 

Or bubbles and stars

They are quite delicious

Someone somewhere is having nightmares

Maybe yours haven’t even begun

Besides you are not addicted to me

You are addicted to the emptiness which made me

Your world can be alive and animated

If you choose 

I always used to be in control 

Now I can’t 

Stop

Start

Stop

Bright

Inside

Electric

I look at her closely

If I am real

Why don’t you believe in me.

Measure

She swings her little black shoes

When did your feet stop growing

When I got stuck I suppose

I don't know what or how I feel

I have a headache she says

Your head is far too full to sleep in

Like an over ripe melon

Desperate to fall off the tree

Do melons grow on trees 

How should I know 

I’m only your fantasy 

Systematic failings

Catalogue of errors

Wear heavy on my bones

She touches her shoulder

Spits out the sugar

Hits the ground

It is half past ten forever here

She moans

Far worse than deja vu

The hour is stuck

The gear is stuck

We are stuck

Trapped in an oubliette

Same dark lane

You are quite able to get out you know

Just call upon the elements 

And the door will open

There is no door

Because you are comfortable here

Sometimes I wish she was my sugar buddy

Not my voice

Wholesale

Market

Mania

Sell

Sell 

Sell

They measured mine

I remember the board and strap

Not that I was allowed to grow

Then we truly are alike

Frozen in little scuffed shoes 

Crossed legged in the front grow

A front row gap in our teeth

And that was before we hit the sugar

She teases

She flicks the pink pill in the air

For maximum strength 

See

It is easy to be nothing

Fall to the demons

Or grow

It’s all a choice

A theory

Why can't I control time

Because it is a whorehouse of wonders

Say hello

Cut the cake

Pass the test

The vanilla kisses rattle on her tongue

I guess I was smitten on the first touch

You've got to battle if you want to win the war

What war

Who cares 

It’s all a choice

A theory

Perhaps this is perfection 

The right song

A comfortable angle 

Sweet gas and dust

All things coming together in piss and harmony 

What I don't say 

What I will never say 

Is the powder

Is my dressing gown cord

Can you keep a line open

Why yes

In many ways I can.

Used

The sky is marshmallow grey

Not fresh

Or pink and white

Like the flush of youth 

Used

She interjects

That we both know I suppose

We eat jello on the windowsill

Let the ice cream melt in our tummies

A makeshift kind of amusement

Isn’t everything we do makeshift

Imaginary

She gurgles and burps

Look we burnt our fingerprints off

No one will see us come

Or go

She jabs a sticky finger under my nose

I don’t like to say

No one sees us anyway

It all smells funny doesn’t it

Obsessionality festering in a box

Tied up with a bow

Obsessionality depression and social anxiety

She sings happily

It’s a construct

Imagination

Monsters

Fools

Bending rooms

Falling floors

Sugar 

Quite why they stitched us up like Tin Man 

I will never know

We have a heart after all

In fact we have two

And our stitching is much prettier

She rubs her tummy 

Curls up like a kitten

The gases come

A sweet burn

A rhythm 

A laboured breath

Is a breath that counts

Delusions can keep a girl alive

That we both know I suppose

I lie on cardboard

Roll on nails

Never comfortable

Never still

Time moved on without me

Like gravity pulling down my socks

I should feel sorry

But I am not.

Ransom

She picks at the frayed edges of her dress

The boredom is like glass

Cutting

Rocking 

Needing

Halfway between asleep and awake

A slap on the back

Another thankless breath

I pick up the phone

To hear a voice 

You are moving forward 

Your call will be answered 

As soon as possible

Funny 

Everything can be read at least twice

Words are the food they won’t let us eat

The door knocked

It stopped our heart

The ultimate weapon

To render us null and void

A strand of hair can be a tripwire

If placed correctly 

We don’t have the energy to fight any more

No inclination to walk away

Every path a rabbit hole

Every view black

Practiced 

Running deep within

The day is crisp

Like dead skin 

Stitching the seam of our being

What lies beneath she asks

Flies and cherry pies

Splinters 

Wood

Nothing

Hardly the tools of transformation

I wonder who rocked our crib she asks

I don’t like to say we never had one

We are daughters of ash and stone

Fire and brimstone

Treacle and sugar

Sticky fingers running under open wounds

We exhausted our supplies long ago 

And have nothing left to demand. 

Butter

We are apple dust and lost time

Floating

In space

Out of space

Running out of rhymes

It is so quiet you could hear a

Butterscotch

Drop

Drop

This is my occupation

It occupies me fully

I think

What do you think Alice

It’s like wearing tin epaulettes

She shouts

Get them off

Get them off

She tears at her shoulders and cries

This is a silly occupation

And you are silly too

I don’t like to see her cry

It’s like watching me

Lay out the grease

Light a match

Stand back

Ignite

Down we go to hell

Except it’s not hell

It is an ordinary kind of day

Fire burning in the wrong direction

She hiccups salty tears

I want to go home

I’m scared

You don’t even try any more 

She looks like a dolly sobbing 

I can’t watch

Walk away

Snap the sugar lump

All so very pointless

Sweet gas and shining ambivalence

Not everything can be coated in sugar you know

She wipes her face on the edge of her dress

We will never get out if we are rotting inside

I want to smooth her face with a cool cloth

How did you get back Alice

From the other side

I looked ahead

Then saw what I needed to leave behind 

It is so quiet you could hear a 

Butterscotch

Drop

Drop

Apple dust and lost time.