honey it's okay really, but don't call me anything but

[one hundred, eighty]

BABY

three/seven

If you're sick of my sunshine then take a look back
because behind is black and white
and I look for you in technicolour
I fight for you as patriots fight for their father

take my hand why don't you have you had enough already
because tomorrow it will be bright
run from the sun
again again, close your eyes from that one
sun

if there's something to do with honey
bring it up out loud and dark
it is impossibly indirectly over the top and completely basically
over the way by the way through the way
if there's something, honey
bring it up in the dark,
the vague indefinitely ambiguity of the unseen
the unseen
the times where there's only one thing in the dark, and that is the moon that shines
and the moon that doesn't shine, it is grey and small
and bright but dull, tar on the road the streets covered in gravel, shark bitten faces,
there was a whole lot of dark down there, so let it fly
let the whole thing be,
let the whole thing be.


focus: absolutely shit all, I love when poems grow out of nowhere in my head.

Jess :]