A winter bite that

mocks the spring, pincers its cocoon.

A life supported?

Cease one's internal decay,

Even ice melts. Love's fluidity.

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Adopt

Saint Stephen's tale

It's Friday, sweets from Mrs Smith

Degeneration X and anarchy

Frankie's words: two tables, four chairs, suspension.

Discovered passing the buck, and thus passed it.

Stole the show with Twenty-one Questions, four dancers, and a singer.

First girlfriend changed everything, "You're young, she has baggage - get rid..." … did...

A pla...

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The curtains a cocoon

which I have outgrown

crushing me

though I dare not venture out

my wings maimed

by an internal eternity.

Some days they open

as the sunlight shines

and snow falls

yet it remains a parallel world

a door to an unfamiliar universe

remains locked.

Even inside plates pile up

like a porcelain possum

they ...

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emons run

and heroes fight.

Doctor Doctor,

Red Bull and happy pills...

yet still no wings to take flight.

I'm in a state of spiritual paralysis

dripping out fears in emotional dialysis.

Demons run

and heroes fight.

Take it back to the start as you tear me apart

memories piercing the fabric of my existence.

Demons run

...

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