sometimes i stand at the edge of my roof and
think - one jump. one step, one freak gust of
wind from the sea;

                                           whose noise, scent and
company is always with me (like a shadow but
saltier). one step and i can count the amount
of breaths i have left on one hand. one jump and
then

i wonder what sea wind feels like
when you are falling directly into it.

i wonder, if you die by falling,
do you ever stop falling ever again?

i wonder about people who decide to fall
and halfway down they change their minds -
wishing they were cats with nine lives and
a guarantee of landing on their feet.

i wonder if somewhere my cat is waiting for me

one jump and the wondering's over

but i have a tug in the middle of me
a tug so i know i am not truly free

trapped by needing, wanting to be

i decide to stop thinking about all the things
which make falling so easy, and only think
about what makes falling so hard, instead.

but can you fuck off? just for a minute. no, two minutes
no, a whole day. don’t ask questions just go please.

i love you but
my sheets don’t smell like me anymore (you know
how important that is). i spent my life creating this world -
and i got it just right. but now you are always in it

in most ways that is a beautiful, surreal thing and
my place is ideal for mushy loved up bliss. but
you’ve been here sucking up my oxygen for too long.
i need to open the windows and feel breeze on my face

and do all the things that i absolutely crave but
i’ll only feel quenched if you let me do them alone.

right now you are probably thinking i’m a prickly bitch.

i am. you knew that. i am the weird mix of prickly bitch
slash whale riding golden retriever puppy, often with
not a lot of very profound things to say.

and i don’t like to speak my feelings

but now i am, so listen carefully. fuck off

come back tomorrow.

i’ll greet you with kisses and a wagging tail

can you come here? sit on my roof with me;
bring the cheapest bottle of sav you can find
(the tongue curling kind). let’s waste a night
trying to count all the lights of the city.

i want to go where the smoke you blow out
the corner of your mouth (ever so fabulously)
goes - and i want you to come too. time is slow
but promise me we’ll never be in a hurry;

what’s the point in going somewhere if
you’re leaving the next day? you understand
the world needs us to pause for a while:
close our eyes, smell the wind, those roses

were always delicious when i smelled them
with you. we spend our evening making plans
getting excited about thousands of things
that haven’t happened yet. but they will.

you are going to do all the things that you want to -
i can tell by the way the sea wind moves your hair
how when you talk there’s flames in your mouth
how you throw your head back when you laugh.

how funny is it that every conversation we have
from far away, would appear to be an argument
but close up, it’s just two girls with flowers in their hair
more than heartily agreeing with each other

about everything. god, how insufferable we must be.
we probably look like one of those disgustingly happy
couples that we hate. but i don’t care what people think
only real things matter when we’re together

we are on the brink of our real lives and i should be
scared. but i’ve never felt more brave than when
we stood drunk on my roof and screamed our
warnings to the world - we’re goddamn coming

and they better watch out, our glasses are still
half full and when we dance, the earth stops turning
and the more empty our bottle of sav gets
the brighter the lights shine

we’re going to be fine

they always said learning would set us free
but what i’m learning is shrivelling me

life’s a drought - and i’m a tree:
no sunshine, water, no more leaves

books, whales, ice-cream, the sea -
all dried up with drudgery

now; in this shrunken world:

the highlight of my day is dinner
and my laughs are hysterical, as if
each time will be my last laugh ever

usually when i am silent and staring,
there’s a carnival in my head.

now, when i stop,
in silence,
and stare

there’s only blankness up in here

nothing’s as it’s meant to be
i need to go on a living spree

'frank' is a word i've been thinking of a lot;
about how it's something that i really am not.

i've often tried; but i get jammed
by all the adjectives that i am -

so i live life like a skipping CD
painfully aware of what's wrong with me

we were on the cusp of greatness
didn't you feel it? that imminent fairytale -
it was like looking out at the world
from under the sheets; silk pajama life

i loved living in your christmas light glow
(light enough to read - dark enough for danger)
every second felt like the moment
directly after a sigh. eyelashes fluttered on cheeks

and i, i knew we were
on the cusp of greatness
didn't you feel it?
you mustn't have felt it

on flicked that fluorescent glare - the kind
which you stand under, staring into the mirror,
only seeing all the things which are wrong.
the bags under my eyes never looked so bold

life didn't feel so rose-tinted anymore

the air had been alive with signs
but you, you must have had sun strike
and just drove on by, not batting an eye
i was your roadkill; tire tracks on my skin

i nearly opened and let you in
you didn't see a single thing

its the time of night when whispers are loud
the only part of the day when i notice the clock
actually ticks. the kitchen tap drips, three rooms away -
but it’s thoughts of you which keep me awake.

i’m thinking of all the smiles you gave me today -
at least thirty smiles; at some point i stopped counting
and just decided to enjoy them. your eyes join in on your smiles
if you were here i’d thank you with butterfly kisses

i loved under the desk when your toes touched mine
your face looked so naughty! we aren’t twelve you know
our feet are allowed to touch. but in a crowded room
it was nice to share a secret without any words.

i want to put my finger in your left-cheek dimple
and run my thumb through your nearly beard.
i want to play a game with you - any game would do
we would muffle our laughs with pillows to our faces

i’m remembering the way your stomach twitched
as i slowly ran my hand across. i like when you do that
it makes me feel like i have magical powers
just another dream i thought wouldn’t come true

i never thought i’d let you take over my mind because
there are so many other things in life worth thinking about
i wasn’t sure there was room enough in here for you
but i’m rearranging, and trying. time for something new

firstly there's the fake ones
sympathetic little lies
'not funny - but keep trying!
here's a consolation prize'.

also, laughs in glances
when my face is a disguise
for the giggles that are spinning
in the colour of my eyes

my out-of-thin-air chuckle
you'd do better to forget
(believe me when i promise
it's a joke that you won't get)

and then, today
you wrenched it out of me

the laugh that takes control
in my belly, then starts growing
as long as you are laughing too
mine will keep on going

i felt it in my fingers
it was bursting through my skin
sun on my throat, i wondered
where laugh ends and i begin




you knew what you had done
i could see it in your smile
that stupid wall i hide behind
just crumbled in  a pile

for music i haven’t listened to in a while;

i remember why i love you. now i know

why i keep going back to those same-old places
how i don't get sick of same-old faces

why i make mistakes and never listen
always read the menu, then choose butter chicken

this is why
i've read the same books over again
had the same slippers since i was ten
how lost dogs can find their way home
those strange facts i've always known

you are; an old cat's fur
a grandfather's hug

when the car's ticking over
then suddenly
it runs

i used to wonder how we never forget how to ride a bike

now i know. i remember why i love you.

time to write about the rain on our tin roof
and the drips of our guttering -
in time with my breathing.

i once taught a friend about
being caught in the rain, and laughing

for now i’m happy with
listening to the rain, and sleeping.

but god knows i’m too small
for this bed for two - brand new &
silky soft as anything (both the bed
and me)

and i may as well admit to myself
all this night needs to improve
isn’t a pot of tea, not a thing else
but you

when i listen to those songs
those optimistic, guitar strumming, warm your heart
sort of songs - i think of you

is it because there’s hope for us? i don’t think so
i think it’s just because my favourite imaginings
have you in them. you star in my dreams

its probably your huge bambi-brown eyes
the way when you stand next to me
i finally feel especially chosen. but

i can’t say all these things to your face and
i’m too loud and blonde and silly
to be any sort of mysterious

so i’ll just watch and smile while
you make other girls your muse

it’s OK. i can’t have you
but i’ll always have the songs and one day
someone will write them about me

then you'll be sorry

you came to me incredibly
red-ribboned, ready
a missing puzzle piece;

purring perfection, the universe
did well when it thought up you
gave you life
made you mine -

from then on
my home in this huge world
was wherever you happened to be
two small beings, happily.

i was young enough to imagine
it would last forever.

But

now i feel all Grown Up
(and i know that life is cruel)
because we were never
going to be allowed to grow old
together.

what the the universe giveth it taketh away.

all that's left is hollow spaces
ringing silence empty places
memories are overrated
and nothing can compare to
your warm body beneath my fingers.



oh my god, this is grief
(why do people say 'Good Grief'?)
the only time my heart ever bursts
is when i think of you.

watch me as i dance
these moves are yours, man of mine
use them in a song

you just left and i'm aching, because
i thought you thought i was special
and i loved you for that - entirely
(knowing that you saw me - the me
that no one else in the world sees -
that was immense).

but now you are just at the top
of my list of disappointments and
the tower of You that we built together
is crashing to the ground, just like our home town.
i don't know which disaster
is giving me more pain.

but i do know this:
i'm stronger than you think,
your wiles aren't all that

and

your sweaty fumblings were an insult
to this silken bed of mine.

plus your facial hair looks stupid.

i'll never take you back

before - my desire was wanting to be wanted
i guess i like wrapping people around my little finger
teasing (mercilessly) and feeling powerful

i thought that was what it meant to be a woman.

now - my desire is wanting you, just because i do
and i love being toe-curlingly, heart-drippingly
close to you. the lesson i’ve learnt is;

pleasure is surrendering - and enjoying being weak

tonight i learnt that you have the gift of not leaving
and wherever i lie, whichever way i do so (fetus is my favourite)
you will still find a way of taking me in your arms.

time passes and i can’t figure out if i’m afraid
(1) of intimacy or, (2) that maybe you just don’t want to be intimate
with me. but then why else would you still be here?

when i touch you, i know what you are feeling.
when you touch me, i try to imagine what you are feeling
and hope you like what is beneath your fingers.

i felt your breath on my waiting face
light, like your ghost kiss on my restless lips.
we were lying so close i could feel it when you
smiled.

all of your signs were glaringly there
and i loved your fingers tangled in my hair
something about you makes me nervous when you’re near.

i am the moth
wildly tapping on the window
of the life that everyone else is already living.

i have been told
write your soul - give us your dreams!
you want my mind
like i want sticky date pudding

i have no doubt you, like me
would lick the plate once finishing.


but don't be greedy -

the times when i have been asked what i'm feeling
are also the times i have walked away.

this is me guarding myself;
and this is why i hate myself

shall we blame it on
- broken homes
- never growing enough
- being blonde and
- constantly underestimated?
no.

i have not stooped
as low as scapegoats.


it's just -  
i choke in the moment and i'm raw.
i'm too rough with myself.
i don't know how to be tender yet

when the lights come on at the end of the night
(our sweat and sins, exposed in the light),

when the magic of gloom is taken away
- revealing who you are in day...


realise that you are not as sultry
as you hoped your advances would be

now when i look into your eyes
i see you've lost your sticky disguise


sober me would be disgusted
note to self - i can't be trusted

on this quest for self-gratification
all i won was some clumsy gyrating


now, entirely blame the lights
for you missing out on my delights

in the fluorescent glare i could finally see
that's not who i am, that is not me

you drew me, and i looked pretty
(even though everyone knows you
are the pretty one)

thank you for showing me
what the world sees
if only for seconds at a time

even though i can't see it myself.

if i could draw i would show you
your laugh
your voice
the breadth of your heart.