About Me

My photo
I am the boy named crow. I am the boy named crow and maybe someday we will meet... forever in the shadows yet always in sight. I am the boy named crow and I am learning to fly. I am the boy named crow and I want you to come flying with me. I am the boy named crow and I am learning to fly. I am the boy named crow and I have something to share. I am the boy named crow and I'll believe in anything if you'll believe in anything...

Wednesday, 9 September 2009

ticking away


I find myself waking from a dream
where I'm falling through the air, only
to fall asleep again and dream of falling
only to wake just a split second before I hit
rock bottom...

this is for you


I have nothing to say except, here, I took this for you

Peeping Tom


This is some one's world
some one's life
it could be mine
it could be yours
it could be ours
and we are just too numb to notice.

The liar


I told you but you wouldn't listen
I told you but you wouldn't believe
I tried to tell you again but you said no
I begged but you never came

I tried to tell them but they wouldn't listen
I tried to tell them but they wouldn't believe
I tried to tell them again but they said no
I begged but they never came

I tried, I called, I begged, I cried

I was not heard, I was not believed, I was not helped

I was ignored, I was left alone,

I was alone

You called me a liar
They called me a liar
They called me a liar because you called me a liar

I was not lying

It goes deep


Every time I write it feels like I'm slitting my wrists for the last time,
allowing the last bit of me to flow slow from these worded cuts.
Only to wake and the find the stains from when I bled out ink the night before...

and so I start to write

Thursday, 13 August 2009

Wednesday, 12 August 2009

visions


Dark Beginnings lead to
dark ends - but I've
always had more fun in
the dark. It where
we met after all and
wasn't it just grand
all the things we got
to see when we
closed our eyes and felt
things in the way
they were meant to be
beacause we understood why they were made...

What becomes


So I think about the dreams I write.
I write about the dreams I think.
And then I paint them in muted shades
of gray
on a
borrowed canvas.

the boy named crow


When I found you I thought you were resting
When I got closer I saw that you weren't
When I picked you up I held my breath
When I held you I cried
When I opened my eyes I saw your soul fly
When I closed my eyes you were still gone

Wednesday, 5 August 2009

with me


Close your eyes and take my hand.
Let me take you to places that have
only been seen by my mindseye.