Salted Diamonds


I’d follow my dreams if my car was faster,
And if I could master the clutch
And my windscreen wasn’t plastered
With fly shit and dust,
I’d drift and drive ‘til the tank ran dry.

The million-mile-an-hour fields
Hold the key to never moving
Without stopping,
To never holding out for
What falls through the sand.

So make this chance to take this hand:
‘Cause next to me there’s a passenger seat.

And I know this sounds like
Another lonely tirade,
But I’m tired of games
And shameless blame
Of a hated name.

I’ll take anyone in that seat.

It might be Mike or Liv or James,
Or any of you wonderful fuckers’ names!

So take my proposal
With a bloodshot forget-me-not
Cut from a lamppost,
Tied to an envelope.

All my love,
Signed with kisses and curses.


About DickensianJack

Born in Wolverhampton in November '93, moved to Huddersfield in September 2012. Studying at the University of Huddersfield. In love with the town - simple as that. As for the blog itself, I've been doing bits and pieces of writing (with varying quality) for a few years. A friend suggested I start a blog to share my work. Most of the stuff on here is poems, but there's other work interspersed on the page. Feel free to leave any comments on my work. Twitter: @DickensianJack (Jack Dickens) Facebook: Cheers, enjoy.
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