The Island.

Oh how I've twisted and I have turned
Oh how I have defended all these burns
Caged in scars
I let them become bars
These cells I've been pacing back and forth in
This old skin
Now shed alongside liberating tears
After all these years
Of living in
Wards
And robed
In skeletons
Behind closet doors
I've not been celebrating
The truth behind these walls
Since your defacing...
But now I see the depths in which I was submerged
Having now emerged
Having been urged
Onward in this journey
By the memory
Of an island
Now, no longer
An exotic escape in my mind
But here
Now
Soaking and smiling
I fall to my knees
The sensation of sand
Dry and solid land
Eyes shut
I wake up
To find my lungs made of trees
And a body made of land
These hands
Now a coastline
Washing myself free from the ocean that was you
Rinsing you out
After all those crashing waves
You delivered blow by blow
You had me rolling in my shell
You knew how to make me crawl back in
Keep quiet, not make a fuss
Zipped up
Clammed up
But all this time inside I was just
Making a pearl
And there was a time you made me
Believe it to be false
But this oasis was
True
You stole a lot
But you never took my pulse
Nor could you take away
The mer from this maid
Nor the siren from her sea
For she's a water spirit
Made for swimming free
Circling this castaway island
Now, me
Rising up
With a heart made of volcano
She erupts
To let me know
I am one again with my true nature
And no longer lost in your shadow.

Pictures.

We're all in this alone
Together
We're all just refections
Of one another
Looking back from a universal mirror
Moving as one
Yet, fragmented by the illusion
Of 'the other'...
So, in pieces
We search
In pieces
We try to resurrect the picture
Looking for representations
For something we've never seen
But can somehow remember
Through each other...
But,
We are the picture!
And the earth, our frame
For this expression of something
That has no name
Yet when it called us 
We came
Vulnerable and alone
But raised to be together.

The Word Hollows.

verses lost and found
these words
verses on the ground
I pick them up
even though most days I'm down
cos' they cheer me up
these words
are all I got lately
these words
and the friends I share 'em with
- the pith, the core of my existence
that is;
these words plus all of you
equals to
the sum of the love
I keep safe
for you
keep safe
in these sentence cases
and stored away in the quiet spaces
of the heart
only to be opened up
in brief moments of truth
little portholes by which I can escape
this occupational route
escaping down the burrows of poems
away from the furrowed brows and doldrums
of the nine to five
escape and feel alive, again
this is the freedom I find
at the end of my pen
for one sweet moment a day
when the wind whispers to me and my ear bends
to catch the words I find
before I become lost again
lost, searching to give meaning
lost and wandering around
among all these verses on the ground.