as i wonder
about the ways of the world
i feel my heart ponder
for i'm just a girl

i like to dream
and think about stars
but i dont like to scream
or talk about scars

i can be shy
and i can be very loud
but i only cry
when there's no-one around

(always, i wish)

sometimes
the world
turns too fast
and makes you dizzy
and deluded
but you like it
because insanity
is better than being
*sane

Watch me
But don't look at me
Talk to me
But don't speak to me
Touch me
But don't feel me

I desire to be noticed
And I want to be seen
Yet I'm frightened of social interaction
And beckoning from behind the screen

but i want to smile
and i want to be free
but i like being sad
and i despise being me

I'm smitten
I'm in love
Track listings written
Hounds of love

the bright side
of the moon
is something seen quite rarely
the bright side
of the moon
is percieved as never scary
but let me tell you, dearest foe,
brightness is riddled with woe
happiness is just a myth
and being sane just lasts a blip
when you're stuck inside a mind
where all your thoughts are crude; unkind
wanting to escape this pit
isn't frequent, never a hit
i like being here;
the dark side of the moon
( in fact i'm in my house, trapped in my room )

isn't it sad
how the twinkling lights
in the distance
entice us,
into making solid plans
for our futures
and how
we are deluded
and tricked
into believing
those twinkling lights
are our guiding star?

~~~~psychedelic mania ~~~~

oh holden,
you  despise the  phony things
oh holden,
your demise is challenging
oh holden,
you appear selfish, but you know you're not
oh holden,
you prevent others from the rot
oh holden,
the bitter rot you know too well
oh holden,
the rot you always felt
oh holden,
how i hope you're fine
oh holden,
the catcher in the rye

i crave his body and his thoughts ,
the way he looks at me
i crave his kisses and his touch,
things that i value oh so much

and there are many miles between us
and many miles are so,
but there are trains and there's a bus
that take away my woe

to not see him is to be lone
upon this spinning ball
but he is what i want and need
when with him, i'm home

things
         like


  the colour of your eyes


           the way you laugh
  

                    the music you like


                              the time you sleep
  




are very important
      to those


                        who fall in love with you

i write from the 1st of october. i write from cold air and turning seasons. from hazy days and lazy days and 'maybe things will be okay's. i write from stale bread and cold tea cause id made it at half past three, and the wind is blowing.
and i want to wear my dads big old fairisle jumper because somehow, it always smells of him. and the wind is blowing.
i write from the 1st of october. i write from endless evenings and too many cigarettes and a craving for my mothers supermarket box wine. i write from tired eyes and floaty songs and i write because im feeling fine. and time is passing before my eyes and it makes me feel uneasy because these are the years i want to remember. the 1st of octobers and 6th of februraries and 27th of mays. and all the other days.
i write from the 1st of october. i write from awful poetry and laddered tights and dreams about boys that got lost in the city. in more ways than one.
i write from the 1st of october, and the wind is blowing.

oh how the strings of the willow leaves
dangle , delicately from the strong and majestic branches
oh,how the beauty of willow trees
is soaked up in the array of quick glances
the glances, made by a stranger
when perhaps keeping children from danger
or perhaps in a dream, when sleeping
why is the willow still weeping?

you told me
you would love me
in the dawn
in the dusk
in the twilight
and i believe you

you are very strange
and not in a good manner
id like to see you change
and be a little thinner

you are not very clever
you're clumbsy with your words
'you wont get into heaven
if you're head's stuck in the world'

for these words do repulse you
and obviously , no
you are not hating truth
just dont know where to go

i am the reverb
i am the plague
im the bad word ;
the misbehave
i am lust
and I am mud
and I am greed
and I am thud
i am the pain
and the knife
im not the mother;
im not the wife
i am the greed of the hungry
the need of distrust
god, you indulge me
resisting the lust
you are tall
And you are kind
but to me yet , you're not inclined
but I persevere , i carry on
like the verse into a song
what I want ,is your attention
what you give is not enough
i want you now., i want you gentle
i want you now, i want your lust

i was going to write a poem about you
but i decided
you're not worth it

she liked it
when they looked at her
she didnt feel as though they were noticing her flaws
as many others do
she gave herself to them
innocently, devilishly;
a promiscuous shadow of her sober self

there is a difference
between loving
and living
and i
can do neither
so what is my use?

i am a hypocrite
but who is not?
irony irony irony
i can't wait to rot

you like to think you're different
and peculiar in ways
that make you seem sufficient
and clever on some days
but darling you are normal
you dont have a broken heart
you just like to be informal
and wait for life to start

the trees that root in this sinful ground
are obvious and just
the churches in this run down town
are shelter for the lust;
the lust of greed , and lust of life
where a girl becomes a wife
these buildings are so holy,
yet full of nothing but evil
and still the trees are victims
to this bitter and great society
the lunatics call religion

I really hate my body
It's actually grotesque
Why can't I be skinny?
And smaller like the rest
I really hate my body
It's big and tall and fat
I wish I was pretty
And had hair that was more flat
I really hate my body
Nobody will love me
How on earth could they
When I'm this ******* ugly?

Again
They unite
Joining forces
As if some kind of army
I am expected to partake
In this family unity
But I feel too intellectually superior
To converse with them
And their simple minds

i am interested in people
of a certain type
not the sorts of people
with t-shirts that say 'hype'
not the sort of people
who only think about themselves,
no,
i like the types of people
searching the bookshelves

still the words
do pierce my soul
and make me feel
unbeautiful

still the looks
do come my way
and make me feel
that i shouldn't stay

'why don't you come?'
the people ask
' we will have fun,
we'll have a laugh'
if only they knew
the reason why
sometimes people
will make me cry

perhaps this is why some people
do not smile
or laugh
or sing
perhaps this is the feeling
of  adulthood
because this is not
depression
and i am not
depressed
i am just sad
quite often
and i rarely feel
**impressed

once more unto the breach dear friends
of sharing all my words
i dont percieve it as means to an end
just a way for me to learn

i'll make waterfalls with  syllables
and streams with every line
and once you reach the end,
you'll be in an ocean thats all mine

you'll lap across my sandy shores
and wash up on my bay,
and when you think you're ready,
i will come to you and say

hello my friend, and how are you
i heard the news, now is it true?
i hope you'll have a lovely stay
on sandy shores upon my bay

Never have I ever
Resisted a relapse
As much as I am
Right now

Bless me with the bullet
Please me with the knife
Charm me with the tablets
I want you to end my life
Drown me in the ocean
Take me out to sea
Save me from my beating corpse
Let my soul be free
Burn in me in the fires
Melt me in the flames
Erase me from your memory
Ever forget my name
Lock me in the cellar
Don't let me escape
Til I'm weak and thin
And my pulse no longer shakes
I want you to send me six feet under
**** me in the rain and thunder
I am mentally unwell
And I think living life is hell

if i had been alone
when sat upon the swing
would you have come and talked?
about so many things?
you play that **** guitar
and sing those ****** songs
yet still you seem so far
and i am always wrong
you give an odd impression;
you're complex but black and white
the happiest depression
the daytime of the night
yet the girl who holds your heart
is small and tanned and right
you know i love your art
i hope you know i write
i wish you all the best
you idiotic prince
maybe i'll see you next
quivering on the sink

impress your fellow flawed
dress your body's doors
lock them with the key
of innocence and pity
flee to the beginning
then run towards the end
make yourself a burden
be true, or false; pretend.
enforce a fake persona
imply the things you arent
dont offer any shoulders
you arent 'agony aunt'
be selfish and be brittle
remember to be blunt
dont hum or sing or whistle
*** u lol ur a ****

i looked through my old poetry
and words began to sink
into my mind , the wall id built;
had obstructed what i think
it took me back to the place i was
some 3 or 4 months back
and now i wonder to myself
my way with words is black

my thoughts are frazzle
that dance in the light
an untamed wildfire
that burns through the night

a stick of blue incense
a coil of sweet smoke
a sickening scent
the words that weren't spoke

the letters i wrote
i never did send
and still i have hope
and still i pretend

why am i this way
why, tell me why
help me betray
the people that lied

I'm a bit content
A bit
I'm a bit happy
A bit
I'm not overjoyed
I'm not beaming
But I'm a bit content
A bit

i feel a raging fire
inside my bitter soul
i feel a burning desire
inside this hollow hole

what i want and crave
is not what i possess
yet still i do behave
in a manner of address
to those i detest
and make myself feel blessed


people in the sky
going somewhere new
they will never know
who  i am
or why i'm blue

they fly further away
each with their own problems
individual mistakes
the then the plane hits the breaks
and they fall
descending to the earth
what some of them deserve

Bless me with the bullet
Please me with the knife
Charm me with the tablets
I want you to end my life
Drown me in the ocean
Take me out to sea
Save me from my beating corpse
Let my soul be free
Burn in me in the fires
Melt me in the flames
Erase me from your memory
Ever forget my name
Lock me in the cellar
Don't let me escape
Til I'm weak and thin
And my pulse no longer shakes
I want you to send me six feet under
**** me in the rain and thunder
I am mentally unwell
And I think living life is hell

the friendships i had
a month ago
have perished
to the backs of our minds
yet i do not feel glum
and i am ebullient towards the beckoning future
that so many others anxiously fear
i am incredibly lucky
to have someone
like you
and without you
i dont think
i would be
     ......

the world is so cruel
and i do not like it
i pity myself
for being burdened
with the generous task
of having
to survive
in this evil place
with these evil people
that i am expected
to fall in love with

I would rather have my heart broken
A thousand times over
Than be the one
Breaking the heart