Left a place, a person, a state of grace, Not my choice, but accepting it nonethless, Did the noble thing despite the screaming inside, Wanted her to see me leave, to see if my leaving mattered, But said 'sure, it's fine, go,' And took myself away, What I left behind were pieces Which never healed … Continue reading Five Things In Leaving
All men are wolves, We sniff, piss and fuck But the moon, to each of us, wears different faces And different times. You, my moon, Above me, in the coldest reaches, How you rolled a cigarette, the marked fingers caressing magic From the mundane The way you drank beer from the bottle, Made my mouth … Continue reading You, My Moon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pnCVYO9Aw20&ab_channel=xlMrProdigylx The songs were fantastic, alongside some funny, poignant monologues. This one however, was exquisite. Burnham is a recent discovery, and inspiring as much as he is brilliant.
One last thing The smell of you Before I sleep Feelings I don't have words for
“I like revisiting, at certain times, spots where I was once happy; I like to shape the present in the image of the irretrievable past.” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights