You’ll Regret This If You Remember Me

[10 points to Gryffindor if you can tell me what band I’m imitating here]

These tears froze from your cold shoulder
And we’re just getting by, just getting older
I’d give an arm to take you home
But I need my wrists for when I’m alone
And as the night and my thoughts grow darker, we just grow bolder

So I will stay with you like scars on skin
And let them all remind you of a time you let me in
You took my breath and you took my best
Lying through my teeth with your head on my chest
And thinking that for heaven we enjoyed a lot of sin

So life’s a joke – it’s on me
Show me parts of you that they can’t see
Life’s a joke and it gets me down
Drive me somewhere out of town
And we’ll curse at the sky
and we’ll feel so alive

Eating alone as the class files in
Knowing I won’t be your chain again
Sat at the back thinking how I messed up
And it’s Saturday night and I’m all out of luck

The phone lies in silence and I lie to myself
The phone lies in silence and we lie with words
News is you’re mine and haven’t you heard
These dreams keep me high and the lows keep me singing
It’s Saturday night and it’s my phone you’re ringing

Take me driving out of town
And we’ll curse at the sky
and we’ll feel so alive…

 

 

Dream Lessons: #24 – The Coast is Clear

#24

When you’re being stalked by blind aliens with incredible hearing (a la thriller A Quiet Place, which I’m looking forward to seeing soon), perhaps they just want to buy a coaster from you (the blue one with the bricks) instead of/as well as killing you.

[It was also fun when the aliens were, at various points in the dream, adorable puppies and my mate Callum.]

Victory [Get a postcard from me!]

[I’m just experimenting to see what I can get away with writing here…

Comment with the other piece on this blog that this is a rewriting of, and I’ll send you a postcard. Cos why not]

Victory

The rising sun ironic,

Illuminating death.

A battle bathed in sunlight,

Our hero lives with nothing left.

All around him friends lay still,

Ne’er to breathe again.

Battered bodies lined the hill

Broken brothers met their end.

He gathers their possessions,

The trinkets for the wives back home,

Who scream as he approaches

His presence news – he walks alone.

Now night-time sees him screaming,

As he lies awake in bed.

For friends he lost and men he killed,

Swim endlessly around his head.

A tortured soul, a plague of mind,

Glance to the shadows – what to find?

Losing faith and losing time,

The reaper creeping close behind.

An emptiness that swallowed all,

Crept slowly through his veins.

Bleak futile obsolescence,

That would drive a man insane

And losing incandescence, life:

The oft-extinguished flame.

[We’ll work out a way for me to subtly get your address don’t worry]

Options

‘A nice problem to have’
1
‘A selection headache’
2
Pure fancy at this stage
3
too soon
to know
and yet
we can’t
but imagine

Each one
comes to us
in mind, where we’re free
to choose, and swap, for:
no harm can come
no hurt wrought
from idle musings
on so many people
we could or could not
love

 

[just found this in my drafts.—it’s a few years old, and definitely not about anyone]

Out of Darkness

in times of strife–

no, lives of strife,

where every single thing goes wrong

we keep our heads up,

look to the sky

just to see the storm circling back around.

when words can do nothing

and yet words can mean everything,

so at least we have something to cling to

until the lifeboat arrives.

inscribed upon our hearts and souls

carved by endless repetition

a billion lives before us felt,

“all days come to an end

but all dark nights pass too.”

every morning, there is a morning–

a new day dawning.

we’ve made it here

and we’ll make it here again.

hold on.

 

 

[I started this (i.e. wrote the two bold lines) in December 2016, I think inspired by the beautiful lyrics of Alter Bridge’s song I Know It Hurts (loud guitar warning, totally worth it)]