I feel nothing for our love to admire
I took a gamble and looked at a picture of you. I stared and stared, furious heat in my eyes. I recognise nothing. Goodbyes are long over-due. Now it doesn’t even matter if you want to spit in my face. There is only this molten road. You think you know me now? Wait until the stars come out. Well, I made you, so now I’ll take you back. It’s too late now The sun sleeps...
Time to grow up and re-ignite ambition
Two unsuccessful interviews. These two hurt more than the dozens before, because I actually thought it was going to change. June. July. August. September. October… Still emptiness in my gut, strange after-taste of hope on my tongue. I say nothing to anyone. I just listen to the echoes around the house for about half an hour. But you live and learn. Gotta keep going. It wasn’t...
I dare not speak
I read your wishes over, but now they don’t seem sincere. Why do I assume, when there’s no evidence here?
who will love you, who will try?
I’m not sure these changes in your behaviour are a good sign. Does this sudden interest indicate that you’ve actually grown enough to have a look back at the story? I wish I could have filmed it all…my pain, how could I let you know…? I was fooled. Every inch of me, all I wanted, so ready for us. I was teased, but so the story moved, and I got old. Are you embarrassed...