whispers ...

whispers ... i've painted over the whispers of love that you left indiscreetly on the walls of the bedroom brushed over all the purrs and hums and denouements that wound us into the single cocoon of the secret sexual life we shared a life entwined by the ribbons of deepest departures and the cruellest dares ... i think you would like the colour a mustard yellow gone orange blended something like a sunset irreconcilable in its determination to end the crispest blues of daylight and now that i've finished i can't help but wonder how easily the dark night eclipses all the colours of my life when i remember asking you to stay and watching you walk away without so much as  a single whisper  Copyright © Kennedy James, 2013. All rights reserved.

sometimes you don't fit into the fairy tale

sometimes you don't fit into the fairy tale sometimes you don't fit into the fairy tale  you step through a defective looking glass  or fall down the wrong rabbit hole  and presto!  the land of magic and mystery  is not quite what you hoped for  oh sure, there's a frog waiting for your kiss but kiss as you may no prince pops out from beneath the warts and the slimy green skin and the next morning you are sporting a cold sore the size of Portobello mushroom undeterred you march through forest and glen  shack up with seven dwarfs in a tiny cottage  that you're expected to keep clean when the little guys  go whistling off to work  while you wait patiently for some crone  or at the very least your older sister to show up  with a poison apple to eat so that you can fall asleep  then suddenly wake to a prince's kiss and  a lifetime of ease watching the afternoon soaps  but the apple never arrives  and you spend sleepless nights in anticipation  until one of the seven little people  slips a pea under your mattress  and you sleep for three days straight  only to wake up and discover  that you've been left out on a marble slab in the bush  and that you're beginning to attract flies  you buy a crate of glass slippers (one size fits all) from the shopping network website and you drive through the richest part of town leaving one at the gates of every castle you can find and you even tie one to a telephone wire high above the entrance to the legion hall but no Prince Charming comes 'round looking for the happy-ever-after with a slipper in his hand no, the best you get is the pizza delivery boy  with a double cheese and anchovies x-large pie  misaddressed to your front door  which you pay for  despite the obvious mistake  because the interchange is at least  a minute or two of human contact  and that pizza is something you can munch on  in bed before you fall asleep  all the while hoping the anchovies kick in at some point  and flush all this fantasy shit  out the rabbit hole  and down your porcelain throne  because quite seriously  the worst nightmare of reality isn't half as bad  as wasting a lifetime in a dreamy fog  and wishing you were  someone you're not  Copyright © Kennedy James, 2013. All rights reserved.