say it right.

I drew a quick breath

as the rain hit my neck,

to shield short pain my collar was lifted

fact is my skin's always been a little sensitive.

and I thought: like feist- i feel it all

but like dizzee- i stand up tall

as if everything i see is apart of me

and I'm embodied in everybody

but then everyone moves in different ways
so much so i get to the point where
i can't find myself some days.

So yeah, i've been needing some help lately

don't yet leave I need to listen to someone other than jay-z,

telling others "I'm not depressed Just stressed"

not depressed just stressed.

to everything and all I've given my best

apart from myself. With that I need your help.

words hurt but not as much as fists do,

that's what i thought until i realized

i wasn't strong enough to say- I miss you.

"so, how's it going?"

"you alright?" "How am I?--- Okay"
although recently it's felt like

every word I've said to you I've

been saying the wrong way.
Like, if i could just, say it right.

Your hair was the lamp post.
You hair was a lamp post giving light

to a night almost lost

(hear what I'm saying)

of all the videogames I played donkey kong

country was the best. but that doesn't matter

because you're the coolest girl I ever met. No

as soon as the feel of life began to get me bored

you didn't so much reinvent the wheel

but give me a hoverboard

it's hip hop on an accordion

tin- pan blues with a heavy base

something that works though at first

you'd have though it was out of place

so how can you expect me to understand

and stand and watch you hold his hand?

I mean,

he does what he can

I do what i will

he says what they say

i say what i feel

he's keeping it real

While I'm trying to live a dream

for years i've been cooking a scheme
and i don't even know what that means
like we're some carbonara dream team
hear what I'm saying I'm not saying it right
hear what I'm saying I'm not saying it right

look,

your relationship with him is respected, really

i really do accept it

I just don't understand why our friendship

has to feel so contraceptive?

as if we're not connected

acting like you never felt it

on that kilburn station underground night

when the rain and light hit your hair just right

and i suppose you've never been able to know

for when we kissed your eyes where closed

but me, i found it too hard to believe

so mine where open

trust me, in that moment, 

time moved in slow motion and

in each raindrop was our reflection

that's why I still have these emotions

two years by and I'm still haunted

by this beautiful past

and it's only when I'm looking back

this new future has hits me too fast

too hard are these two hearts to last

further than.. us? fuck.
hear what I'm saying

I'm not saying it right.

hear what I'm saying I'm not saying it right

Hear what I'm saying I'm not saying it right

It's not about you me or him

it's about the loss of love at first sight

to the same thing

it wasn't about the fame

it was about hitting the stage
and no longer feeling the same old same

I'm not insane for saying this, right?

just understand, i don't need all this

to be up there, i would pause

every applause

and give back every clap

because when with you

I didn't have to act

and i don't even want it back

i know it sounds distorted

to want to go back to when

i wanted to go forward
because what was
still is and that's flawed

and you don't need to know this

but as i go on and ramble
as i always seem to do

i get closer

and i realize, I'm was saying it right.

I just... didn't want to say it.

after this life, during yours

when the wings come
I'll do something for you
In front those brown marbles I'll fly
beyond the reflection of your eye
above the towers and sky
past the moon n' sat-n' jupiter
I'll find a star out there that suits yer

should i forge that star
into a ring, if you want a
proclamation of love ting?
better yet lets keep it safe
and place it in a dream
there you'll have a guide
when riding that astral plane
forging better memories
from whence you came

What's inside

When the moon falls to the bottom of the sky
And the plants reach feathered clouds
My headed thoughts of pillows
Filled with black haired widows ugly
Blonde monsters at least ultimate warriors
Un-starved vultures to be the prettiest
Of all.
When my mind can comprehend
A helping hand cannot repent I shall
Breathe sea air. Jump from the rocks into despair
Hoping for a woman, longing for a friend
Begging for a sibling to hear my to hear my
Cry for a little more time. 
A day to get my shit
Together so I can weather the storm that is life
Because whatever thunder does,
If it is not for my advantage it will hurt
Hits not through but just in
like a slow bullet shot from
an old gun at the hands of a
classic cowboy wearing tattered rags
Worn out shoes; moccas I could only
Hope to walk a mile in.
Thoughts of cowboys eventually lead
to thoughts of you
the way most thoughts eventually do, 
I grab a backpack and fill it with
the memories of a kite hill view
a smile of someone I thought I knew
two lost heartbeats and a crickelwood crew
but nothing from you apart from the feeling
of horses riding without owners you distilled in me
and sadly, cream. Fortunately, dream: nothing
but a thing. and age ain't nothin' but a number
so like a fine wine I'll slumber
in the middle of summer of middle-
Oh America
I am yours.
the same way to the grave a hurst roars
or panic towards the sight of unlocked doors
So when the sun rises higher than heaven
and when the love of one stops me guessin'
and when we're all alone., together.
Have him hold my place for now honey
so when I get my shit together
(as I said earlier)
The storm that is life can just feel like a
summer breeze so weez wheeze like
our heart has sneezed at my shocking
nose bleedz. so he can take my place
but let him know, any time I want it
I could take it, but something inside me says
if i had it, I probably wouldn't even want it
so let me run. run like sonic collecting
golden rings chaos emeralds only things;
just like dreams. Just like age. Just like money,
and I think of money
and just as always
I think of you
and how you struggled, what you had to go through
Oh America
I am you!
Razor love is playing.
I wonder if my love could cut clean through
and just like all wonder
if things could get better if they found something new
what do you want with me?
some days you forget how I should be dealt with
but it's my fault.
I keep forgetting the very sight of you
causes pain but i love you so much
I'll do it again.
and i think of hurt
and just like all thoughts...
Oh America
Help me pull through.

so what's the point then?

Ping-pong against competitive old people
Lost as quickly as I could
Got out of there
Mission accomplished!

Read a book

Or write a shitty poem

Under a dim sunlight

Listening to cornflake girl

Shades on

Next to a pool

I feel a time and an age going by
While I sit under a dim sunlight
Thinking about a mistake I made

While I read a book

Or write a shitty poem

Two weeks after the trip what I do

listen to vampire blue

underneath the london clouds

out my window there is a wall

foundations are sloppy

It reminds

On top of a ladder as a painter decorator
I guess i was pretty low at the time

Digest the feelings onto this page........
Though it’s waste paper

oh fuck.

I'm not that strong no

but i know i can go

so keep a piece of my time show

the world i can still flow

though slow-

-ly i awake in a bed

cluttered with comic books,

an open laptop and

worn out jeans folded badly

knowing this isn't as good as it gets

but hoping it'll get better quickly

you feel me?

Vivid autumn morn.

colours blue sky fresh white clouds red tree leaves dark thick roots yellow green grass something like camden lock something like this place i imagined when i read mick foleys autobiography- a dusty high grass american mid-west country we're somewhere there you're red coat black hair walking like we used to but anger resides within you words are said but i forget because i was sleeping i perch up on a railing i feel arms round my neck come lean in grab tight hold black leggings you're,i'm, wait. - .don't wake.

Dream.

I/

You/

We

Wake to dream to sleep to hide to run to sorrow to burrow to discover to treasure to measure a love that's forever is bigger than never to hold to squeeze to break to release to take that piece to make your peace to climb from under to rise to fly like-strike-like thunder and to look to the sky and to search the eyes to claim and to take yes to dream truly is, to wake.

Slowly but surely vanity creeps up on me.

I've had enough of dressing like a kid. Enough of looking like a feeling like a kid. I want to hurry up and be the man I know I can be the one that's inside of me. Or maybe he isn't. Maybe this guy needs to be found through hard work and dedication to the causes I believe in. If only there were some causes I believed in. To be completely honest I'm telling all of you right now I'm not going back. Not to my old stomping ground or ways. I have to be egotistical and vain and let myself know I'm better than the people I met and the things I did to them the things I did with them. No sleeping around in body or mind (thanks camera obscura). So that's gone. I'm now a blank slate. I have less friends than fingers but thankful for it. I will build with laugh drink fight and die for them. And only them. I learnt something harsh already: not everyone wants the same thing as me especially something I've been longing for badly. What I'm supposed to think is that my life isn't a story it's just a life but I don't think that's quite right despite understanding I'm not giving up on that notion. That life isn't a story. It is. And that's why I like writing. I'm supposed to be writing now but this is what I'm thinking and inside my head it keeps rocking and racking my brain it's not pain but it draws my eyebrows down and my sunny demeanor isn't what it should be. But I've never been one for moaning or having a love that's unrequited so I'll just face it and it'll be accepted and already it's easier to deal with. Just, came so close to the end of lonely almost finding serendipity only to be plucked into something that I suppose will eventually been told apparently will-of course- be better for me. Fuck me if I wasn't fucked already. So what I'm doing is stand up comedy a little poetry writing a play and spending more time with my family. Stand up is slacking but only because that stuff is hardly temporary after all I may be doing that for my eternity that may be the beginning of how I make proper money. Poetry is easy because my minds just come from swimming in love and now I can write that down and get back into the groove. The play's the thing and that too I've been struggling. The subject is just so close though but maybe seeing as my actual lesson is learnt the story can now have somewhere to go. Despite having such good company (daily) I still get urges to leave this place like Ricky. But even he said this city is in me. I don't love Camden town I hate and am Camden town and hate that I am it. I feel this place owes me something and maybe in my unsaid vanity I believe this city, this city yeah it kind of needs me. To show the pretenders that lie daily and the beautiful and funny stories that could only be (and again with the vanity) told by me. So I'll be doing me. Let him breathe please. Just a moment before I do something drastic and reek havoc on a bunch of punters who probably couldn't H-and-L handle it. I'm going to let thunderbolt take the wheel temporarily, make the Ultimate Warrior understand that I'm doing my thing you see on friday finally hang with Dempsey finally and maybe, maybe slowly with working and dedicating I can someday be the man I hope to be. But how many comedians do poetry?