Flecks

Repressed, sombre colours weep a blurry sadness. Melancholic, metallic hues bite a frustrated, untouched lip - silently surrendering crimson, golden spheres of promise… They dissolve, shrinking to watery flakes, melting to a near oblivion. Lyrics pin hopes on a pointless map, touching tender triggers like hidden, yet potent handguns. They fire at will, tearing happy slices, dumping pieces like fly tipping at abandoned roadsides. A darkness cloaks a raw nakedness, reclaiming unwanted goods - left to rot, depreciate, decay. Your car mocks in superfluous glimpses, a fading memory of physicality: each visual spot pings like unruly snooker balls bouncing mindlessly in a green baize haze. You are an unpotable black fly that hangs frustratingly near erasure. An occasional dark-haired shadow pricks an interest – a sickening silhouette that makes me gag, choke down globs of feeling like unchewed mozzarella, it sinews, rotates playfully, suppressing breath, with a Devil’s self-satisfied grin, rubbing out my pencil markings. Deep sea dreams take me to you: to depths far wider – than your tattered, single-sided soul. You exist only here: in an unreal, dimming realm, where cruel, captive eyes hide, blanketing honesty, burying it in a hellish underworld beneath stocky pillars of deceit. I swim by your faded embers, where you suffocate the kindling flecks, shadowing in gravestone grey, snuffling out light, and choosing to drown in monotonous misery. In contrast, I sing a mosaic painted lullaby, dazzling with cacophonous colours: blindingly real, kicking my mermaid fin – my scales of beauty speak a frank ditty. I ascend upwards, touching truth, breaking the lying surface.