Burden

O, how much I burden thee
For in unburdening my mind
The weight and wash of wasted self
In part, must needs becometh thine

Late Night Futility

Corners folding over
Darkness sliding down
I’m ink-fading
Paper-quaking
A blackberry-hearted
Fingerpricked failing.
Sometimes sweet enough
To stain your lips
And sometimes
Purple-centred,
Offering maggot-laden kiss.
Toes up!
Leave me ’til Michaelmas
And let the devil take me:
The world keeps turning
Night to day to night
With brambled yearning
Full of wordy thorns
And thorny words wrapt tight
I’ll bind my thoughts.
I won’t be yours.