Be A Simple Kind Of Man

“Everything aches and shines.
The sun, the moon, the stars, the sea.”

“Son” at Ribadesella (2014)

Chapter 8: ‘Blind’

I can no longer see.
I am blind to the eyes,
Strange to the hands and the way
They shaped the air for me.
Be safe.
Be brave.
Don’t hide.
Don’t lie.
Don’t fake to care when we’re both
Already blind.

Drawing by Pearse O’Higgins

*Wrote ‘Blind’ this morning and a couple of hours later found Pearse drawing at a pop-up book store in Temple Bar Square. Some things are meant to collide

Chapter 4: ‘Damaged’

I acknowledge light and hope
And fear and lost
And pain and laughter.
May the winds shake me
But never wipe me off.
May I touch your heart,
The back of your head
And cast some light.

PS: Yes, I’ve skipped Chapter 3 for now ;)

Chapter 2: Caring

“Blood comes with the pack,
but caring,
well that’s a choice.”

“Cheburaska rinsed and shiny” by Derval Blake

Chapter 1: Light Waltz

Darkness circles us all.
We must learn how to choose who we dance with.
I dance with the light.
I sing with the light.
I move and love and breathe light.
And I hope you learn to do so, father.

“Lover of the Light” by Derval Blake

Windows

(…)The window. Open the window. There he goes in the dark, to the wall in front of him. Stumbles with a pile of tangled clothes and falls, ribs against the desk. “FUCK!” You left it there, what did you expect? I mean, how many times did you mother told you to… “Shut up, would yah?”

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This is a excerpt from a short story I’m currently working on.

Sorry about your ‘wtfs’

Love, A.

Rescue Yourself

I’ve been dressing up your lies in misunderstanding silks.
Named myself dumb by omission, raised judging brows inside my skull.
That crystal palace you hide into shows a revolting victim I can no longer rescue.
You found your way around my weaknesses and made them kneel.
Call it friendship, it’s just fear.

“There’s a scary comfort into knowing not many other things are left to discover that could hurt as much as your abandonement”

– Derval Blake

May I?

May I trim your edges?
May I change your clothes, cut your hair?
Slip my books into your den
May I guide your hands around my scars?
Choose your favourite drink at a bar
May I change your speed in bed?
Pick up excuses, call them fair
May I’ve rushed to fall for love?
Tricked you, fought you, boxing gloves
May I ask for lourder moans?
Promise not to wear your bones.

Good Intentions

You’ve ruined every good intention I gave birth to.
When I say I’ll miss you, only your ego blinds the lie.
Goodbye