I could watch tits all day
It’s a surprisingly warm month
I’m laying on a sun lounger

My partner reads nearby
And my feet are slightly burnt

But I don’t want to move

Because I see a tit in the tree

A flash of colour
But I am not sure if it’s a great or blue

I feel sad because for a while I wanted to be a ornithologist

Birds linked me to my father and grandfather

I remember the aviary
I remember the silent shuffle

You showed me the cutest birds

I blew bubbles and sat on the lawn
Making daisy chains

I watched you
You let me put the seed in the feeder

I wanted the birds to be my friends

In the cage, the birds tweeted
But I stared at the trees

A flash of colour always reminds me of those days


I build

My favourite material is
Polished stone
Followed closely
By glass

I do like wooden accents
Birch flooring

Lots of torches
I like light
But mostly I don’t want zombies spawning nearby

A balcony is ideal
For archery

And a ladder up the outside wall
In case I am running from a creeper

An open plan house is my signature style

With underground windows to see into caves
So you can feel save while you’re searching for diamond

But the ultimate must have
Is a rooftop bed
Sleeping under the stars
And waking to see skeletons burning in the distance

The Warehouse

It reappears frequently
I stood on the ledge of the multi-storey carpark
And read the poster on the warehouse opposite
Monday morning 5:19

I knew the song
But I can’t hear it now

I dream of the warehouse often
It’s normally full of trees

I want to live in a converted warehouse
It reminds me of visiting the other Nina

In Manor House
I was so happy there
For that afternoon
I thought that life should feel like this forever

A vanity case
Leather with a pin-up girl printed on top

I met Cherry there too
I gave her a box of chocolates
With a bracelet in the bottom
She did my make-up

What a day
What a day

The factory workers across the road
Watched us in the yard
They whistled
We had an urban picnic

I am weary of the warehouse


You can’t have your cake and keep it
But you can fall into a cesspool and come out clean
Similar to a bull stuck in a gate
But not quite

I miss you
I miss the way you never leave the tip empty-handed
Like the saying goes

You spoke about your grief
I knew it was there but we never spoke about it before
I get tired, sometimes, of explaining
That I can tell you are low even though you don’t say it out loud

Sometimes there is no getting over it
I know this, and people tell you I know this
But you never see that I know this

Like that night I witnessed a fight
The street filled with noise and anger
But my description was not sufficient
And you walked around the houses to find out what happened

There always seems to be a gap
I try to fill
And you always empty


Bloody ‘ell
Could you choose a more complex
Difficult design


How is this even possible?
I don’t know

Joking aside
Kill me now… OK

Little bit of exaggeration on my part


Questions. I have so many.

Really. Are you serious?


Try as I might. I cannot.
Understand this format.
Very funny.
Wait… Goodbye
Xxx Xxx Xxx
You suck