Death Is My Lover And He Wants

Please. Don’t Switch Off My Mind By Attempting To Straighten Me Out. Listen And Understand, And When You Feel Contempt Don’t Express It, At Least Not Verbally, At Least Not To Me.

Here I Am And There Is My Body Dancing On Glass In Accident Time Where There Are No Accidents You Have No Choice The Choice Comes After

No Boy Is Worth Crying Over, And The One Who Is Won't Make You Cry.

I Crave White On White And Black, But My Thoughts Race In Glorious Technicolour, Prodding Me Awake, Whipping Away The Warm Blanket Of Invisibility Every Time It Sears To Smother My Mind In Nothing.

It Is Myself I Have Never Met Whose Face Is Pasted On The Underside Of My Mind