Tartan Shoes 

I try to wake up early
(But I keep on hitting snooze)
Theres nothin’ wrong with me they say
Its just my heart thats bruised.
So I’ll sink a little deeper
In these post traumatic blues,
As summer leaves start crisping,
Taking on their autumn hues.

There’s nothin’ wrong with missing,
I just wish it wasn’t true,
Each day I check the internet
For some old scrap of news.
I know we all have choices
But it’s never me you choose,
Its always been another guy
Who acts like you’re a noose.

Friends say find another lover
But its never any use
Maybe I should take note
And just cut you fucking loose,
But every time I try to break
My soul returns to you.
I wish I could just understand:
Why’d leave your tartan shoes?

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The Grey

He waters baskets in pouring rain,
The street below floods just the same
And echoes there grey skies above,
A seagull swoops in lieu of dove.
No summer here, or so it seems.
I wish to wake from out this dream!
To feel the sun, warm villas fair,
Oh Aberdonian despair!

Live in hell…

By standing stone
Deeply inscribed
I place my hand
Upon its side
Feeling something,
Somehow died
Not corporeal
But deep inside.

Emptiness gnawing.

The monster which
Haunted my night
Crept out from depths
Of dark delight
Below the bed
In shadow hides
Today he follows
Close by my side.

Wind blows cold against my skin.

Why did I come
Here where I dread
I force myself
To read the dead
To whip myself
And feel the pain
To live each moment
Once again.

The monster whispers.

“You are nothing,
Never were.”
I face the truth
In what is heard.
For I am nothing
If I dwell
On what is past
And live in hell.