I DON’T WANT ANYTHING
I JUST WANT
TO BE LEFT ALONE

I RESENT THAT YOU CARE

LET ME GO AND
TURN YOUR BACK ON ME
SO I CAN FIND MY PEACE

I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU

BUT IT’S AWFUL HARD
NOT TO GET YOU CAUGHT
IN MY CROSSFIRE OF PAIN

SO LEAVE ME ALONE

YOU’LL BE BETTER OFF
NOT WORRYING ABOUT ME

AND I’LL BE BETTER OFF
NOT HAVING TO RESTRAIN MY URGES
FOR YOUR SAKE

I COULD FINALLY MELT INTO MY ILLNESS
DRIPPING INTO ONE ANOTHER
UNTIL I’M UNRECOGNIZABLE

LET

ME

GO

PLEASE

YOU’D BEST BE ON YOUR WAY
OFF IN A SEPARATE DIRECTION
TOWARD BETTER THINGS AND PEOPLE

BECAUSE I AM TIRED OF FIGHTING
SO MUCH MORE THAN YOU KNOW
AND I’D LIKE TO REST SOON

Maybe it’s time I cut the toxicity
out of my veins
Consuming everything good
turning it into pain
Why do I stay standing in the rain expecting not to get wet
I must be insane
There’s nothing to claim here
Just the same old game of lies and fears
The consuming darkness
Contagious from the heartless
Misunderstood from the message
We are afraid of what we have not learned the lesson
An unknown reality
A dimension of fallacy
Clockwork oranged
Conditioned my mentality
A coexistant fantasy
Uncontrolled brutality
A masochistic duality
Growing within
The mind of a man that used to be  
Thank god for forgiving my sin

I can’t
I can’t
I can’t
But I will
Do I even have a choice?

Someone asked me to draw
Draw what heartbreak looks like
I finally got tired of drawing a broken heart
And I started drawing you

You see the slump in my shoulders
the way I carry myself
the burdens of boulders
that threaten my health.

When you ask what's wrong
I pull up my guard
don't want your pity or sad song
won't tell you why life's hard.

So if you want to know
I'll bottle it inside
wrap up all remains in a black bow
and tell you I'm fine.

" Cut yourself"

Just a cut
Just a scratch
"What's that mark?"
"It was the cat."
Just an excuse
Just a lie
"What's with all the bracelets?"
" Just fashion, why?"
Just a tear
Just a scream
" Why were you crying?"
"Just a bad dream."
But it's not just a cut, or a tear, or a lie
It's 'just one more' until you die

Do you think a girl could love a boy who writes for her a million poems?  That's what I plan to do.

To be kissed
by your eyes

To be touched
by your voice

To be held
by your lips

To be tangled
by your hair

From here to you I say
Writing is your healing,
Never let it get away.

wet are
the
winds of
missing,
of...
sadness.

the winds
speak of
pain,
of
throated
screams.

the winds
blow on
by,
the winds
return
like boomerangs.

these winds
travel
over land
and over
sea.

but
make no
mistake,
these winds
of change
always
make it
back
to me.

one day
i might forget
the things you did
to me

and one day
i might not hate you
anymore

but when that day comes
i’m afraid
i might love you
all over again

a.g

I filed a case of lies,
And searched for the truths.

I found nothing but an empty cabinet that I used to file.

mental illness is the
most expensive thing
i've ever owned but
never wanted

my heart is in my chest

a particular siding





i feel it sometimes

when i am walking hard or eating chilli

so i avoid that last thing



mostly



pink i expect with tubes

mostly like in the pig’s hearts

mum used to buy from the butchers

for dinner



now i am vegetarian



i think that if i have a soul

it may be behind the heart

hiding

and maybe that is where my work

comes from



it seems odd that at times of rest and when all is quiet around

that i cannot hear it

nor the other workings

like lungs and veins and stomach



oh!



except the latter rumbles

A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover


It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.

I wouldn't want to live forever.
Forever seems too much.
Too much pain and
too much sadness.
Too much work and
not enough happiness.

But there is one thing I would like to do forever,
and that is

L O V E

For I do not think that it is possible
to love
too much.

She was a throw away girl.
The one that was used.
She was a throw away girl.
So many times abused.
She was a throw away girl.

the difference between seeking to find me and seeking to stumble into me is the guarantee of only one of those.

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

I'm jealous of the rain
It gets close to you
Closer than I ever will
It touches your skin
It combs your hair
It comes when you're sad
It stays when you're happy
I love you but you don't love me
So I say
I'm jealous of the rain

Smiling in delight.

Smiling in sorrow.

What's the difference?

You can't tell.

I spent all this time
waiting for forgiveness,
Yet it was I
who needed to let go.

She takes the stand
With the voice of millions on her back
And speaks the fact that we all know,
far too well to be true -                  
                                           Me too.

She is heard but not believed,
She is heard with faith deceived .

When will it be enough -
Is one in six not enough ?
Is one sister, one friend
still - not enough?

one colleague, one mother, one wife, one lover -
one teacher, one doctor, one preacher, one author -
one husband, one son, one brother.
Which one will it take, to stop
the non-consensual clock
and make us realise that -

Time. Is. Up.

.
In matters of ‘***’
why is it that some
think knickers are best
when  carefully pressed.

Just leave them crinkly;
or to put it quite simply:
in places not sunny
the  *** is not fussy.

as she trudged up the mountain
        ^
      / \
    /     \
  /         \
/             \
victory pulsing through her veins

badum badum badum badum

her eyes set intently on the peak

a deathly stare

she knew she could do anything

anything at all

she was anything but meek

this world is not for the meek

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

Because the earth’s round
Doesn’t mean it’s  having a ball.

Because waves crash
Doesn’t mean that they aren’t in control.

Because the sea is deep
Doesn’t mean that it’s thoughtful

Because land meets the sea
Doesn’t mean that they agree

Because you float my boat
Doesn’t make me the captain.

keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.

winter nights black like womb

starry and eyeless
fated and dying

to be wound
and wolf.

You’ll never know love so strong,
Or much,
As the things that fit in your palms,
Wider than galaxies,
Brighter than stars in our eyes,
Wonder of skies,
When gravity’s a force you can touch
but you’re scared you could break it,
And love’s so real you can’t fake it.