Mummified

losing your mind…

Who are you ?

No, who are you really ?

Are you everything you hoped you’d be ?

When you were small…everything seemed possible.

You drew, created and wrote.

You expressed you…

So I’m staring through a tiny lens…
fleeting emails from my aunt
And I think that I can see light, see hope.

But I am wrong.
The cancer has consumed you whole.

The hum of your disin…

the beginning, a middle, the end.

Crime, passion and paper cuts – good combo I reckon

red bubble addiction. twelve step program ?

efficient wins.

you can now kill via computer.

un-manned planes fly above the enemy,
an ocean away.

create the command.
a compliant algorithm.
to,fro – to,fro and blam.

no need t…

drug or bad 80’s rapper ? you decide

it’s unsettling to hear silence when my life is one long stream of toddler consciousness – now, I want it, peeeze, mummy, mummy, mummy.
but when it’s gone, the silence I craved is hollow.

To be or not – 6 words

comic take on the joys of bookreading

If my head

– ideas fizzing –

was placed on stronger shoulders,

then I wouldn’t slump

when rough-handed life grasps my neck

And squeezes…

If I’m going to have an artistic temperament,

I think I should learn to draw…

upon inner resources.