I'm Just Me

I can't walk on water.
I can't read a portent.
When it comes to signs of dominion, I'm hardly an expert.
Spiritually inert, in other words.
Accursed?
Unlikely, just not deified.
Unrefined.
There's a thousand supplications adrift in my mind.
Miracles aren't the purview.
Sure, I read a book once,
but I forget most of the words.

I have the luxury of that.

So I'm not the Son of God.
So I won't sprout wings,
and lead you to kings
who'll wine and wither and dine and dither and never allow your mind to keep score.
I don't have the keys to the pearly gates,
and I don't have the words to wrap your foes up in hate,
and not every sentence's indelible magick.

And sure you might bawl and might say that it's tragic.
That I've seen some nights,
and I've seen some sights,
And surely my love must be some great big secret?
A totem of wired up power, devouring
all your spite and fright and turning it to the good?
You're but a crucible misunderstood.
I'm not a carpenter, working with wood
This isn't a world of shouldn't and should.
There isn't a scripture and no holy verse,
There isn't a bargain or some ancient curse.
This isn't a pitfall, a dead drop, a ruse,
Whatever I am was not meant to confuse.
You hiding your idolatry just isn't working.
I am not the Son of God - just hardly working.

the second last girl

i am not the first of my kind,
but i am the last a thousand times.

they get the second-last every month,
every week, sometimes every day.
they're sure to let me know.

they circulate her face
they circulate her face
and letters coalesce to form her name
headlines sandwich her within their uncaring folds

her murder, her destruction, her elimination is almost an afterthought.
unremarked by the world
unremarked by me
just another reminder

in the light of the truth, all you can do is bow.
the news is a heisenberg messenger
it determines the truth of what it delivers
and it delivers death

unending, unceasing death.
Girls Like Me.
Most of the girls like me are gone.

and her name is a thousand tiny knives,
the second last girl.
her name is a million unspoken promises.
her name is a vault of scripts
in languages I'll never speak.
her name is Fire,
and her name is Outrage,
and her name is Violence,
and then they use her name up
and the second last girl is forgetten.

Even by me.

And then they find another one.

I am not the last of my kind, yet.

stood down

So.
Here I am.
I'm stained with gore to the elbows.
And I'm smiling.

stood down, tapped out, I'm not addicted to breath -
strapped in, no air, I think I'm floating to death,
Coz there are nights, yeah, where I'm a thunderstorm.
There are days, no, when I'm terrified.

Sweet Hysteria, will you visit me?
Come in the night and omit me?
Oh,
There's only time and will and want.
So here I am.

I've tracked dirt into your house.
I have come to wake you up.
I've tracked dirt into your house.
I have come to wake you up.
It is dark,
and I am grey,
So sleep, baby,
sleep the day away.

I don't mind the smell of copper.
I don't need to have a cause.
You feed a fascination,
but there's always scrabbling claws.
So sleep, baby, sleep.
My hands are scrubbed red-raw!
But there's always been a darkness.

There's not enough to keep me pale /and/ warm.

all i am is clouds now, all i'll be forever is clouds, you failed

saw them in the street
stamping on the concrete
eyes fixed on their homes
though there was no cause for their reproach

we cussed out the firemen
cussed out the neighbours
cussed out anyone who would hear

oh, it comes and it goes but its never far
oh, it's grey and it goes and it knows that i'm not gonna tire
coz i have to keep finding strength within me to keep going
they're not like us
and it'll eat them alive
so just keep it up and try not to meet their eyes

i saw them as i dreamed of a wet red tide
they saw me as i was swallowed whole in silk
great and terrible was the sight
though there was no cause for their reproach,
i was wreathed in grey again
and lightning crackled up and down my wary skin.