James Dhanjal

Pushed Into life.

Pulled through childhood

Pushed by ambition

Pulled into a group

Pushed into the spotlight

Pulled into love

Pushed into marriage

Pulled by the fans

Pushed into escape

Pulled by drugs

Pushed off a balcony

- I dont want to talk about now,

- I dont want to talk about then.

- I want to talk about us,

I'm sitting down and talking,

I'm writing treaties and promises.

I'm taking back the wounded.

I'm releasing the hostages.

I have been a dictator,

I have been a victim.

I have had a taste of anarchy,

And a been a slave to the system.

I held my own truths,

I held your lies.

Calm the seas,

Clear the skies.

I've been known to burn a bridge whilst standing on it. But when this structure crumbled, let's be honest.

You hacked away from your own side.

I fell through this time and had to learn to swim. Learning my own strength and singing my own hymns.

It wasn't a matter of pride

You've been trying to find me only to tell everyone that I have been found.

I could never be comfortable with that sound

Because I'm sure you are lost and have been from the start.

I can't show you how to find yourself.

There is a version of you behind my eyes.

A construction made from wishes and lies.

As much as I want to manifest this truth.

It's been so long since our youth.

I'm haunted by someone who still lives.

Maybe these countries could fall like dominoes but we have no right to prop them up.

The strings and tape in our toolboxs are tainted yet there seems no stopping us.

I sit at a monitor with dread in my heart.

It looks like something it about to start.

I'm not here until eleven AM.

When I am, you might be disappointed to see me. Maybe you came for something else?

Laying here in a warm bed much longer then I should, and when you hold me I'll be stone cold in seconds.

If you ask for me, I'll come quick, I'm cheap and available. But hardly look like my picture.

Maybe you came for something else?

I'm greasy and sat awkwardly, sometimes messy and hard to handle.

I might be nicer in the afternoon, along with others. But maybe only once and a while?

On a late night, I'm a guilty pleasure, you will crave me, seek me out, you might not care about how I look or how I taste...

and you'll regret having me by the morning.

Perhaps it is best for me to stay on this warm bed until I am thrown away when I get too old?

Like an bad actor finally learning his lines, loosing all his charm.

I don't know how the past will change in the future.

The glasses warped each other.

Snapping off peices, into grey .

They've been friends for years.

The good machine learned.

Files corrupted, missing dependency.

They've been friends for years.

If these days are your last,

It's so cruel that you'll forget your past.

I wonder if you'll be coming back,

when our memories fade to black.

But for now I'll keep what is between us.

Maybe if I exhaust myself, this low ceiling will rise.

Maybe I'll go to wonderland, this time when I close my eyes.

Tears only seem to come when I am awake for so long.

There is something about this whole situation that should feel wrong. But it's not.

This is the way it is I tell the others.

Adult children and mothers

Cousins and nephews and brothers

Wifes, husbands and lovers

I said that I can live with distance.

But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

My thoughts orbit without restance.

But my stance has become inert.

In this fair I seem to be shooting ducks

But loosing all of the prizes.

I'll keep pretending not to give a fuck.

Pick off the petals and allow for growth.

Kept my mind open and my mouth closed.

Just go.

This is supposed to be hard,

Playing a your own game with these cards.

Remembering when you wrote about stars.

Go far.

Go further when you are fighting frost.

That ties to convince us we are lost.

It's to much to pay this cost.

Perhaps dysfunctional to what was intended.

Let's drop it for a moment,

Let's stop pretending.

We have been trying so hard to fix the shards.

But we never realised the light bounces off.

That denented version of you Is dead.

I'm done with writing the scripts.

Of movies that dont exist

I can't shake the feeling that we're within a long goodbye.

These are some truths I am running from, that I cannot deny.

Maybe we mourn for each other, but will never know.

Perhaps words die in our mouths and that is all we show.

We are different people now, and changing every day.

Becoming strangers haunted by memories, left with a name.

Maybe those strangers could acquaint, and build over time.

I have never been so good at that, I don't understand the signs.

Perhaps I haven't moved enough that you know what I'm like

But I have grown enough, that I recognise before you strike