We often talk about those walls
I have built up around my love and affection...

If love could be bottled would you fill a bath,
then drown in it...

Darkest darkness divulges dalliances
despite dreading dreadful desire...

When it was made
it was rehashed from a bucket of Angels...

My chair has a mass of noodles
that have fell from the pot...

Who decided that when I laugh,
tears should drip from my tongue...

Soon calling winter
Heat executes cold today...

Winged mirrors carry my thoughts aimlessly
glistening crystals of sky reflecting my sombre...

***resubmitted and edited**
My mirror mocks my image daily...

Mood murders wisdom
After, returns ultima...

Looking back demoralises
paths trodden that deserved...

Ever felt a head so heavy
it flops from one side...