Patrick Wescott

Give to me one more kiss.
Impart your spirit on my memory.
Chill my heart with a touch.
Ignite me with a glance.
...

(For Jim Morrison)

The Indian's soul embrassed you,
on that lost desert highway.
...

Once again I've returned,
here I sit watching ghosts.
In the house of the haunted
where I buried the past.
...

You've turned my world around,
you came without warning.
You've trashed all my views,
flipped my realm on its head.
...

Tie me down and set me free.
Peer into me and make me sting.
Flay my flesh, release my soul.
Make me cry, make me bleed.
...

May I come and walk your shores,
would you take me in?
Show me around and
climb the mountains with me?
...

I've walked the streets of London.
Set sail for the shores of France.
Found tequila
on the beaches of mexico.
...

Where are you,
O savage god?
You said that you'd guide me.
Promised you'd lead me to safety.
...

What is this being
that rules over my soul?
With my heart in its hands
and its teeth in my mind,
...

Once upon a time
I thought you were the one.
I wrapped myself up in you
and gave my life away.
...

Your soul looked out from blood-shot glass
your fears drunk away for but a time
Plead for mercy from your desires
their blackness drowns in oblivion.
...

You wanted a biography
a tale weaved for understanding

The truth is there between the lines
...

The memory of you was like a faded dream,
buried underneath the years.
But a voice rises from the past,
and I remember love and fears.
...

These are the last lines I'll write,
These are my last thoughts in the night.
Age has grabbed me and forced a blank.
So hold on to youth as long as you can.
...

My voice grows tired,
my mind hurts from overload.
I came here seeking,
maybe to find myself.
...

The hour of my return is at hand.
Time to end my exile,
and return for judgement.
I fled here for safety,
...

(to be read individually)

Rooftop poets dance in the rain
And hide away with quick disdain
...

I tell lies to please you,
hiding all but my face.
I give you what you want,
even as it causes pain.
...

I'm locked in a cell
and the key is around my neck.
For this is a prison
of my own design.
...

Where have I been?
Where am I going?
What pushed me in this direction?
Who's hands molded me?
...