Pluto:
And if you sent my weeping paints and I to Mars?
We would make art out of the near dying stars,
And if you want to send me to the moon?
My bags are packed and ready by noon.
I’d care careless if my next stop was the sun 
Because chasing planets is bloody fun.

So I’ll buckle my shoes and twist my head back on,
And button my shirt to write you a farewell song.
For my eyes are wide and full of stars,
My paints are packed beside a box of cigars.
For life is fickle and they don’t get me here,
So I’ll do my hair while you hold my sour beer,
Look my Sunday best for the moon’s craters,
For the mold coloured human-kind spectators
I’ll sit and count the rings of Saturn,
Rearrange the planets into a pretty pattern.

I’ll paint faces with funny eyes and crooked noses,
I’ll paint green and Turquoise roses
I’ll fall asleep on Pluto because maybe they’ll understand,
A lonely planet for a lonely man


Bleach:
I’m scraping the surface of the lilac stained bottle,
A friend to all is a friend to none says Aristotle.
To call myself lovely to be my own friend,
However that is Unlike me, all I see is the end.
the stranger in the mirror sees me as a threat,
I see her nervous, I can taste her sweat.
I watch the colours of violet run down the sink,
While I look at me and recognise the weakest link.
Desperately I alter the face of my reflection,
Begging and praying not to recognise my own complexion.
I don’t want to be around her anymore,
However it’s her presence that I cannot ignore,
She haunts me with her broken mind,
A reminder of the cruelty of human kind. 
For how is she me and how am I her?
What an ill fated existence to occur.
Her mind is rotten and falling apart,
Her soul abandoned leaving a piece of haunted art.
I grow and change however her stare stays the same.
I look in the mirror and all I feel is shame.


Foe:
And one-day you’ll crawl home with your tail wrapped around your legs, 
You’ll remember past versions of yourself and the way she would beg,
For a warmer sky with a better life
For a cup of tea without the strife.

You’ll be grateful she stood her ground,
And be saddened she ever silenced her sound.
You’ll be glad she left her mark, 
Finding the light even in the dark. 
The face in the mirror is suddenly familiar,
No longer so distant and peculiar.
Suddenly a friend and no longer a foe,
The same girl who got you high when you felt low.