Imaginary Drug

You’re like a drug when
I watch you on the screen.

You make me believe I
could fall in love with a block
of unkempt cheese.

Dude, how did you do it
to yourself and me?

Unattainable folks with cash
and bad haircuts,
but you’re a bit nonplussed.

My feet tingle as you hold
that piece of plastic in your
hand, but how old are you?

You’re fucking the cardboard box
of my life with a blunt knife,
yet I don’t care how you do it.

Continuing to undress in irony
or act like you are the ultimate corporation as you place your name on every plaque.

Whatever the case, Dude, you’ll be using a walker soon enough, and I’ll be wishing I’d said something nice to the lady down the road before she died from a pinprick.

Waiting for You

The world isn’t meant for the weak, but am I that strong?

I see you in another land with a pink smile and shining eyes, yet is that you in there?

Sitting at home looking at the mould on the walls and feeling the cold chill that seeps through, I think of my place in society, my poverty.

Yet, when I look out the window, I see the Highlands calling. The streams and mountains call from somewhere ancient to tell me it will be alright.

As I look at the mirror black, I see a face I barely recognise staring back;
yet there’s familiarity in those eyes and those lips.

Undecided yet hopeful, I run outside and leg it towards the hills.

It’s not awful to run, but the sky is so beautiful and grey today.

I wonder when you’ll find me standing by a bin in some random street waiting to touch you again.