Pouring my soul out onto scrappy bits of paper
because it understands
because its blank face doesn't judge
Doesn't compare its white purity to my black thoughts
Thoughts as black as ink
Why can't I explain them to you?
Let the words flow like ink
Pollutant, stain, crap
flow. Like the bottle of champagne
That I bought to be romantic
and you spilt across my floor - hissing
as you hurried to get into my bed
But quite frankly my dear,
I don't give a fuck
Because my words flow, spinning like worlds
Whilst your music
STOPS.