Ravenwild

"I love you", she sighs as she rolls over. I let out a sort of half laugh and reply, "No, you don't." She looks at me with those eyes that say "what the fuck?" I get so often. "I'm just that guy, you know the ones… the "friend" in romantic comedies. Your real love goes off with another woman the day you tell him how you feel about him and then you get depressed an cry on someone's shoulder… that's me." She looks confused for a moment "But last night we-" "Indeed we did," I cut her off "that's just another part of it… but any moment he's going to come back and tell you what a horrible mistake he's made and you'll be in love forever more"

The hot water gets higher in the tub and here I sit, getting my best clothes soaked. I think for a moment about how they're going to be ruined as though it matters. It's like one of those moments you don't believe is happening only I know it is because I feel the water start to scold my legs. I start to smell my aftershave as the scent is reactivated by the heat… or the humidity… something; it reminds me of how fast this change has occurred, how I cared what I smelt like, cared about something. Now here I am. The water's rising and I'm about to go under. I'm beginning to wonder what it'll be like… death I mean, and whether my body will try an

Within hearts And minds Violets lie strewn Lolling each day In their own special way Eyes touch for But three seconds Before collapsing 'Neath their weight The gaze of gods too strong Must have left that part In my other coat Which I never wore Anyway Watch people pass In the rain With their umbrellas And their own stories each The sound of beauty as the rain hits the floor Something about walking through them Just does it Even when I get home And there's no dial tone Sit and let them Glide to the floor

When you just think About it Death Is In fact Better Than life Yet everyone remains Just to stand On the top Of a mountain You've just climbed In the cold And wet And skanking Right on top It might not be much But it's all we've got Beautiful

Morning Wake up Praying that today Is just a dream Or some last dying memory Sex in public toilets And hazy memories I'd not recognise If they walked past In a moment of this life I hate I just can't wait To die

The weather was cold that day In the sun Two flowers together In the pot they had won For themselves They'd been there for almost A year and a day Grown close to each other They liked it that way Entwined He tried to prevent But the gardener they Tore up his mate's roots And took her away To a pot across the garden Our flower he gaped Across with despair His lover snuggling up to The chrysanthemum there

I lay you to the floor I've done so times before Yet differently For knowing My friend These pages Your end Soul weeping For a body Seemingly unable Power source unstable And I'm stuck remembering Blank Blank My last memories of you

I live across the road from a building. BBC Radio Sheffield. With automated security gates. I see cars drive up. Talk at the intercom. Unaware the doors open Outwards. They always drive too close.