Witty Title

Flesh Pricks,
moved by the touch
of heaven's tears.
And for a time
the voice is silent,
as though it too longs
for the cold caress
of the shadows
in the mists,
the icy scalpels
in the gaze of the
pocked face
staring through
the window above.
Their lights titter
at my insolence.

Not sure why I posted this... seems to suit the mood I'm in though. Isn't that annoying? I want to say more but I a) don't know what, and b) haven't the time. That sucks.

Aaaaaaaannnnndddd, I'm back. Bet you're thrilled. No? You're not? What a surprise. Still, lack of enthusiasm never shut me up before so I'll keep going, and you'll sit here and love it. Yes even if you think its complete and utter toss and hate my living guts you'll keep reading. Wait! Don't close the wi....! Oh well, another customer lost. *sniff* I'm so lonely! Still, bitching aside...or...erm...that bit of bitching aside, things have been ok recently. I wrote a few new poems, had a nice weekend, found some new places and people. Life was simpler when I was alone....

I found a new bookshop in town that I hadn't noticed before. Maybe I'll go there again, regale some passing stranger with tales of why I feel so down, when really all I have to complain about is me and how I'm such a useless awkward prick ninety eight percent of the time. Am I being too hard on myself? Should I just shut the fuck up and go to sleep? Who knows? I just want to say all this before I forget. And I know I'll forget. I'll wake up tomorrow, tired and hungry, and I'll just walk out the door like good ol' me, silent and laughable. Its weird (damn I'm saying that a lot) but when I was in that bookshop, I got into a bit of a conversation with this american-sounding guy who was only there because he had crutches and couldn't go upstairs with his wife, and it felt nice. God knows what else I would've said to the guy but it was nice to talk.

I think I'll stop rambling for now... Let the keyboard cool down a bit before my next rant reveals itself...

Signing off