This bed it is a bridge
Of what is real and fantasy
I despise reality
I'd rather keep dreaming
Where I am free
To be alive
Where I will thrive
And my heart can be
Free from knives
I will not cry
I can not feel
I stay in bed to escape what is real
Monday 1st October 2018 1:58 pm
everyone be hearing us.
What an exciting life you lead,
cosmic superhuman centipede.
I’m Centric G pause for the D:
ejaculating antiquating - even thoughts dilapidated.
You should go through twice
extinguish anguish from your life
cosmic zombie souls are sliced.
rubbing Atlas, struggled rolling
Monday 6th August 2018 9:31 pm
The Beast Beneath The Beck
The beck at Westgate End is full of weeds,
its water is a muddy shade of brown,
confused ducks die within anaemic weeds
as sunken shopping trolleys pull them down.
Sometimes you hear a cold slithering splash,
as though some ancient creature has slid in
to feast upon the centuries of trash.
Who knows what evils are contained within?
Sunday 20th May 2018 12:49 pm