rock in a storm

sunk with the cliche

butter drunk with compliments and doe eyes 

i gave you all my surpises like a rabbit in headlights.

 

i liked it

i liked falling

listening with twitchy ears

soft furred unfocussed mad march passed us and asked for a cup of tea

it was funny then

i loved to give up my thoughts

and our ideas

were like gelatine

brittle boned

and moulded just for the sake of it

 

Im not sorry.

I am sorrow.

Sorry to the marrow

Waking up thinking you d hand dug our burrow

lots of little tunnels made

out of soft mud

but the rain pounds and washes it to slick

lies and your cardboard facade is soggied.

eyes foggied.

insipid sick blue limp with drink

and you did stink like the rest of them

and every word you said was incomplete and chitter

 

i havent any better to say.

im sorry.

i give you my foot  for its not real either

and make a stew of everything you looked at

make a brew of any love that comes my way

mix it in darkness, spell bound a creature i am

not fit for the real world extinct nearly i can jump up into it

Second hand and im relieved i havent any limbs to stir it up

its trouble to cross a hare. they think i make it up

i give it to the moon

you should think you lucky

fool.