I hate dreaming about her,
Her hands immediate and cold,
Peeling back my shirt,
I lay down with my arms over my face and say:
'you shouldn't be allowed,'
In the time between night and day,
The puddle blue sky towers over me,
Pokes me back into sleep,
Where she might be.
How dare she!
Kind and gentle, her voice lullabying me into ease,
My mouth rising with a smile at the edges only to remember and feel double crushed,
Pressed into the bed by her shoe,
And worse,
Sometimes reality plays out and I have to relive it,
Like having my arm broken twice to reset the bone,
Crunch crunch,
I feel violated because my brain is for me and she shouldn't be allowed into the soft parts without my permission.
I wake and start the day with the stone in my throat and swallow and swallow and it does go away.
Oct 26, 2022
Oct 26, 2022 at 11:16 AM UTC
Swaying,
Heat pressing into my skin,
The same winged creature circling my face and then landing on the very tip of my nose,
Air thick like a milkshake.
When the rain comes,
Landing with a thud,
Like a bag of sand dropping from the roof of a house,
The animals can breathe,
I can breathe,
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh,
Even the crickets let out a sigh,
Pounding like a drum,
Pounding like the same dream every ******* night,
The capybaras and wooly monkeys with their hunched shoulders and squinting eyes,
Let the branches and leaves heave around them,
Verdant,
And flashing,
A globe of bubblegum,
The rain always comes.
Oct 26, 2022
Oct 26, 2022 at 11:12 AM UTC
I can hear the sea bed,
I sometimes think I can hear whales and eels,
And pain escaping my body,
I feel so much all the time,
I sometimes think you feel very little and watching you succeed makes me feel worse and isn't that awful?
Eels are covered with a slimy mucus that allows them to slither around without getting scratched,
I keep dropping myself into water,
For a second of relief,
Healing isn't linear,
And did you know eels can swim backwards and forwards.
Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 4:38 AM UTC
I love romance,
Soppy songs about broken hearts and longing and holding hands
Have always made me spin and swoon,
American films where lovers meet on a bridge and
They're so happy at the end they cry and so do I,
I love flowers
And poems
And benches with declarations,
I feel romantic about lots of things,
But mostly my friends,
Who hold me like the string of a kite when I flail wildly,
I sit in the raft of their safety and we take turns to row,
To be in love so deeply,
My friends smell so nice and have kind hands and open hearts,
I'm quite broken,
Or so it feels,
But those I feel romantic for quietly hold my pieces until I ask for them back,
The moon shines like a silver coin and its beauty makes me feel worse,
I feel romantic about the moon
and flint walls
and empty bodies of water
and my friends who whisper shhhhhhhhh as I fade into sleep,
Makes me believe I am loved and lovable.
Aug 25, 2021
Aug 25, 2021 at 2:37 PM UTC
Blankets of verdant emerald over fallen limbs,
Crooken arms,
Enclosing up and over and under,
Walk, sting, stop, puddle,
Ankle deep in laughter and brown, murky water,
Joy spread across our faces,
Mud smeared up our arms, legs, hands and hats,
Indestructible powerhouses with totally vulnerable feet,
Like ducks and foxes and rabbits.
The spongy bark or mighty trees fills me with hope,
That my wounds will heal.
Jul 31, 2021
Jul 31, 2021 at 8:29 AM UTC
The warmth and earthy scent of the forest floor is gone and instead,
It's ashtrays and sore eye lids I don't
Know how to dislodge the small, grey stone in my throat sometimes
The stone chokes me I wish
I could peel back my skin like a spring onion,
And reveal and fresh new me,
As if the broken, beige bit never existed I love
The sound of washing machines going round and round,
And round and round and round and round I think
About the tree trunks and buttercups and melted ice creams and as the air warms like this I feel sick and
Foolish,
And I can't look at things through my eyes I want
You to be happy and I'll try
And be like a spring onion,
All shiny, and green and white.
Jul 18, 2021
Jul 18, 2021 at 4:51 AM UTC
Falling back through time,
Like closing my eyes and leaning face first into a pool,
Gives me a jolt sometimes,
Takes a while to focus,
Clear the edges into fine lines,
But when I do,
It's me and my brothers and our flat basketball,
Laughing and shoving each other,
Before we were jaded,
A pastel version of ourselves,
Throwing water balloons from their bedroom window.
Now we're grown and darker shades,
I want us to smile and breathe like we did together then,
I want us to play basketball,
I want us to warm ourselves on the comfort of each other,
I want us all to live vehemently,
I want us all to live vehemently.
Jun 3, 2021
Jun 3, 2021 at 3:34 PM UTC
I love to cook for you,
Steam billowing from pans and your arms lazily draped over me,
Lips honeyed with ***
Your pockets jingle with trinkets and you stir the pan,
Grazing the sauce with your eyes and the spoon,
After,
You'll bury your head in my neck and tell me I'm brilliant and you want to lie down,
I want years of you, decades,
I could drink crates of you and only want more.
The girl with pockets filled with tissues and one hand on a book and the other on my foot,
You hold my heart like chicken soup,
Bringing it right to your nose and tasting every drop.
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 2:25 PM UTC
The leaves on the tree outside my window get bigger by millimeters,
And the umami delight of marmite on crumpets is comforting and luscious,
One eye shut because the sun if filling it with heat and light,
This way I can still read my book in the sun,
These joys,
These small joys,
Which you have to take note of, you must,
Are endless;
Cold beer zapping my tongue like electricity, zing zing,
Dippy eggs with toast crunchy and eggs runny , salt flecked across the top,
Coconut hand-cream rubbed between each finger and thumb meticulously,
Music pouring through rooms into the flat and lilting in and out of earshot from outside, inside, next door and my radio,
Sparrows with their endless cheep cheeping,
Steam from strong black tea, gilded with rose, warming my hands nose and stomach,
The tiny hairs on raspberries, so soft and the juice so ****
Plans to go no where, somewhere, the pub! A river! A farm! On a train! On a boat! On a bus!
Candles which pack the room full of floral, honeyed scents,
Crunchy apples,
Flaky pastry,
Warm bread,
The tsssssssttt when you open a can of Coke,
Lemons, just lemons,
The bbzzzz bbzzzz of my phone carrying I love yous, and for ***** sakes,
You have to take note of these joys, you must,
Because when I think about 16 women dead by lovers hands,
I feel I've hollow bones,
I need the beer, eggs, hand-cream, music, sparrows, lemons and bbzzzz, tea, bread, pastry and plans to keep me upright,
And I send thoughts of dippy eggs and lemons to those without.
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 11:54 AM UTC
I want to prepare food for you,
Chopping leeks and secretly dropping coriander into the pan,
I know you say you don't like it but you never notice and it really adds something,
The radio sings and fills the spaces between the smoke and steam and my thoughts,
I shout you alright, babe?,
You shout what?,
I walk over to the sofa holding a beer you chose and move towards you,
Grow towards you, lean over and press my cheek hard into your neck creases,
Your pulse thrumming through me like a train,
I close my eyes tight and think of all the times I was desperately alone,
In dark rooms in my mind,
Shall we cycle our bikes to the river tomorrow? you whisper into me,
Your breath warm and sweet,
I add salt to the dinner and you pull out a map and our days and nights are woven together by you looking at me looking at you.
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 3:51 AM UTC