I use you like an old tool
Something I can turn over
***** in tight so you stay
After I have moved off.

You fix what is left of me
Tied down, knotted silk
A binding of age and beauty
My hair, still plaited, remains.

Love Mary x

Topsy turvey
In and out
Falling down a black hole
But you pulled me out
Darkest of times
Bleeding out
Cleaning up my wounds
Didn’t expect them to heal so soon
Scars last forever
But wear them proud
They show your triumphs and how far you have come in life...
Black hole
    Falling down
          You picked me up
               When I was about to drown
                    In my own fears and blood
                        But I rose above the rising                            
                              ­           waters of the flood

In purple checked dresses we are confronted
Behind a piano sits ‘Miss Creak’ head of house
She has one bad eye, unfixable from childhood
But plays beautifully perched on an oakwood
And fabric stool. This is our secondary school.

On the wall above the piano is a framed print
‘Madonna of the Meadows’ by the artist Bellini
I pushed a drawing of a couple intertwining
Under ‘her’ door knowing she never would have
But a boy may have felt affection for ‘that’ affliction.

Here we all ate meals, did fashion shows and sang
I was glad my dress was purple not orange or red
Went better with my blue eyes and blonde hair
The rest of the school diveded into coloured checks
To represent Shakespearean female characters.

Just opened in Wandsworth a new comprehensive
Serving all abilities, behaviours and nationalities
Cordelia, Beatrice, Juliet, Katharine,
Portia, Rosalind, Olivia, Viola a rather unsuitable
Vision for such an uptake of adolescent froth.

Miss Creak was, kindly, I wish I had always been.

Even though the distance
Of light years between them
Will never subside
And will always remain
Interminable
But this has never stopped
The soft waves of cerulean
Seas and oceans
As well as their moonlit lover
From recognising and feeling
The gracious presence
Of each other
And joyfully confessing
their sparkling eternal love
To each other
Even in the absence of
Any means to ever
come close
Or touch each other

I prefer the gray.
I don’t want to choose between dark and light.
I like it that way.
No one can tell me if I feel alright.

I prefer the gray.
It can be whatever I want it to.
I like it that way.
Why pick joy or pain when both can be true?

I prefer the gray.
An aching heart can have a smiling face.
I like it that way.
Why must my emotions have their own place?

I prefer the gray.
What you think I mean is for me to know.
I like it that way.
When the words confound you just let them go.

It has past midnight and I'm wide awake.
My thoughts are wandering around,
When all they had to do is to shut the hell down.

This feeling.. I hate this feeling.
It's like, a part of me just want to sleep the pain away,
And the other side of me wants to keep me down in the dumps.
There's a reason why I don't like being alone through night time.
It's dark. I'm afraid.
Fears will eventually enclose and surround me
They'll take me to places where I shouldn't be.
It'll let my guards down.

Sigh.

I wish I was someone else.