All writing is from 2021 – Present.
Should it be known,
When we had sex after the horror movie,
I wasn’t sure when the bodies started
And where I ended.
In this flesh prison,
It felt one in the same.
Have you ever felt like you’re suffocating?
Or drowning without water,
a mouse cornered by a cat
with not hole or crack
to shimmy your way out
of this new predicament.
I always wondered
if I’m brainwashed,
if my own thoughts are my own.
Do they allow me to question
to avoid suspicion or am I defecting?
I don’t know what I would do
beyond this life,
I escape to the worlds in my head.
But that’s because I’m bored.
I’m an android walking in the halls
of my ship as I walk to the kitchen.
But if I were a robot,
I would be able to focus,
think straight and turn off that looping programme
where I check my phone every minute.
But I’m not an android,
I’m a cyborg, my mind has been hooked
into the mainframe since thirteen.
Keen to unplug
I can’t just leave my brain behind.
A hybrid of the new age.
The Immoral Fatality of Screens and Teens
I once dreamed of the stars,
the sky, the spaceships,
the companions of
robots and monsters.
I dream of them now and again,
but I think I am them now.
The robot I am in the morning and night.
The monsters I am inside.
I am united and separated,
All at once.
entertainment, social media,
judge and executioner.
The future isn’t real.
Some kind of mystical end will come
between then and now.
We’ll get switched off.
We’ll become the dinosaurs!
We are the dinosaurs, we are not superior,
they could kill us instantly.
Some wouldn’t give it a second thought.
The top dog got wiped out.
So why do you think we can defeat
the end that is coming?
We won’t see the Pink suit until 2103.
I won’t be able to see how the blood in the fabric has aged, or not.
I’ll be 102.
We don’t deserve to see it, she made her point.
He killed him. They killed him. We all fall down.
I saw his head on the cold table.
Why were those released for me to see?
Even his blood soaked, ripped and drenched shirt.
But they protect a damn suit.
Some people entertain, even in death.
In blood. In body and bones.
He was a human too. Did he stop being human?
When do I stop being human?
Human life becomes human artifact for all to um and er and think about.
Dissected by you and me and some doctor.
And now I see his void and bones in every scalp that walks by.
If you slow it down, you can see his scalp flying off,
isn’t that funny?
Isn’t that funny?
I’m so morbid!
The Challenger explosion looks like a lobster, look at this.
Another man killed himself live on the internet for all to see.
Watch it. Watch it. Watch it all. Know every detail.
Every story. Everything. Consume until it consumes you whole.
Add it to your trauma pile like a new skill.
Be positive. Be aware.
Wake up but sleep.
Stay in but stay out.
I’m a mouse between two tigers.
They’re inching in,
claws be drawn,
sinched from their scabbards,
and pointed towards me.
Their teeth snarled, eyes squinted.
I’m losing time.
This time and the next.
I don’t know who I am.
I am the void.
I’m the end of time.
I stopped being human in the end of it all.
I have that power. But I don’t know how to stay.
here, with you, or anywhere. I don’t owe you anything.
I should be free and open and see where life takes me
But that terrifies me.
I want stability but I’ll feel trapped,
I’ll have to see where life takes me, but that’s not how I want it to be.
So I exist and wait for the tide to take me.
Polish me, break me, swallow me, spit me. Until I sink.
One day I’ll wash up upon the shores of Cornwall
and I’ll be picked up again, or put in a pocket.
Am I an interesting stone or a tumbled piece of glass?
I can’t tell, break me open and discover my treasures –
Or get blinded by my shards as I implode.
I become the stardust, floating aimlessly.
But somehow, I am home among
the company of the cosmos.
My brain is loud,
full of all the people
who keep me company
in the silence of it all
and yet I still don’t know what to say.
I haven’t practiced for this,
no one gave me the heads up.
“Sorry for your loss.”
I’m at this road again,
I stare at myself in the mirror.
I can feel the edges of my body,
where the skin ends,
where I begin to decay.
I’m all dried up.
I don’t know when I lost her.
between her memories
And her death.
I was the only one who cried,
when she died.
The men in their suits, barely holding it together.
You can cry too; I did.
I’m a well,
in a desert
with nothing to give
but dirt and ants,
crawling all over
The connection between
the nail and flesh.
I can feel it
The ant crawled out;
You can look inside my foot
if you would like.
I pulled out all the garlic cloves.
I’m hollow and hole
And full of ants and dirt.
I am well,
In the desert
In the wake of it all.
Let her eat Cake
For cutting the cake
When the mirrors broke
The villain appeared to shift
From me into you.