She loved him,
They were young and stupid,
She was sad, he was happy,
Their relationship moved too quickly,
Although young they indulged in intimate love.

She loved him,
They were young and stupid
She was sad, he was happy,
He was busy being a child, this upset her,
She hurt herself and blamed it on him.

She thought she loved him,
But they were young and stupid,
He was tired and hurting,
He asked to confide in a childhood, female, friend.

It was not taken well.

She loved him,
But she was too young to understand,
There was no reply for 37 minutes,
She facetimed him in tears,
She reversed the camera to show what she had done,

Crimson blood ran down her arms,
It dripped down, corrupting the beige carpet,
Tears fell alongside the dark drops,
Her mum entered. The call ended.

She loved him,
2 hrs later he thought he’d killed her,
He broke up his ******, prepubescent razor,
Without a second thought he dug it into his leg.

Crimson blood ran down his leg,
It dripped down, corrupting the beige carpet,
Tears fell alongside the dark drops,
But no one entered, no one to help him.

She loved him,
She got stitched up and it became like it never happened.
He loved her,
He was left scarred and that image of her wrists never left him.

4 years later he sat in his room,
Alone,
He wrote a piece of text.
This Isn’t a Poem. Its My Life.

******* in a car,
Screaming Matty’s lyrics,
An angel placed before me,
With a voice not meant for the ears
Of mere mortals like myself,
The chocolate ocean of her glistening eyes,
Swallow me whole in a Marinas gaze,
But for once I can reach the floor,
Able to stay afloat and no longer
Battered by titanic waves of chaos,
The sweet glow she resonates
Illuminating every dark corner of
My mind,
Once an inescapable void,
Now filled with the fruitful warmth of love,
For the person who surely came from above.

Before me stands a towering figure
One that is doubtlessly divine,
Her shadow consumes me,
But it’s warmth is surely a sign,
That she is the one that all the hurt was for,
And how I just want her to be mine,
A single tear seeps from my eye,
Graced by your beauty,
Unable to make a sound
Out of my corrupt lungs,
Speechless until I force the words out,
“You really are the one, aren’t you?”

So, I wrote a poem for you,
Because, like always, you were playing on my mind,
Refreshing as cold mornings, grass littered in dew,
You are always smiling and kind,

I spoke to a God I don’t believe in with tearful prayer,
Asking for you to love me, kiss me, play with my hair,
I know, to you, I haven’t been fair,
But I look at the space in my bed and just wish you were there.

Is it okay to not be okay?
To feel so out of control and out of touch.

What happens if I make a mistake?
Will it affect how people see me?

Does everyone struggle to sleep?
Surrounded by the screaming voices of guilt.

What happens if I lie or cheat?
Can it ever be enough?

Does everyone feel worthless?
To have no true purpose of being here.

Is it normal to feel broken?
Scattered pieces floating in the wind.

Does everyone welcome the idea of dying?
The sweet release of nothingness.

What should someone do when they are always sad?


I’m asking for a friend.

I’m writing about you again,
Because you’re trapped in my mind again,
I grab the thought of you and smash it to pieces,
The shattered shards stab into my head,
And plant themselves in deep gashes in grey matter,
But what’s the matter with holding onto someone you love?
But what’s the matter without me?
Help me let you go,
Never let me go,
Place your hands against my face,
Hold it tight,
Kiss it,
Love me,
Miss me.

“It won’t be long now, my child”
A voice boomed from above,
“I will soon welcome you into the next life,
Just take up your sharpened knife”,
“You’ve caused too much pain,” he whispered,
Cradling my head,
“All through life you’ve whimpered”
“It’s about time that you were dead”.

“Why do your eyes pour?”
“All the pain you saw,”
“Trapped in a head at brutal war”
“You have nothing left to live for”.

As tears rolled down my greyed cheek,
So much so i could barely speak,
“No,” I cried out loud, “what about her?”
“I still need to make her my lover”.

Stroking with delicate fingers
Over your temple and through
Your thick hair,
Brown as the wilted trees of winter days,
You cry to me.

“Who am I?”

Silenced by my inadequacy
To respond to your tears
And the disgust of your vulnerable
Weeping call,
Mountains of shame carried within.

“Do you love me?”

You wail softly to my rejecting ears,
But of course I do
But of course I don’t
Who could love you?
A fading light of which shone so bright.

“Help me get better?”

Naked
Vulnerable
You cry out for someone’s helping hand
But you only have me
And my snide plans to **** you.

“I’m going to **** myself?”

Good.
Go.
I’m sick of you.
Tired of fixing your mistakes
Only
For you to **** up again.

“Do you miss me?”

I did not hate you, lover,
I despised you
Every time I looked in the mirror
I saw
You,
Your whining face,
And moaning heart,
the figure of my torment,
The figure of your torment,
With thighs scraped and tortured,
I remembered what you were.
What I was.

And then you died,
And then I was born.
Better,
Stronger,
No longer defined by your mistakes,
A Phoenix from the ashes,
I could,
Breathe.

Goodbye, to the lover I left Behind

Feeling myself slowly dying,
Due to my own proficient lying
Catching up to me all together,
Swallowed up by the feeling he will never
Be able to feel okay again,
Ensnared in the burnt out ashes of a once bright flame,
I have lost everything,
My family, my education and her,
Life, such a fickle thing.

Titans trample over my mind,
Who knew love could be so unkind?
He feels himself slipping away, crying,
It’s come to my attention that I am dying.

I want to be a poet,
Studied like Keats and Shakespeare,
For my writings to invoke love, sadness and fear,
For classrooms to be filled with my spilled words,
More exciting stuff than multiplication and surds,
For entire essays written about my verbalisation of life,
To let them know my truest pains and strife,
So people know how I feel about ‘her’,
For them to learn, to me, her identity is a blur,
To make my perfect family proud,
To have the world to know ‘Jack Youd’

Or am I just a lonely poet,
Writing words never to be read, embraced and felt,
All my words, wisdom and woes,
And yet people will never know it.

Drown me in the lies of your affection and care,
Feelings that we both know are only there
Because you snorted that **** and swallowed that pill,
Even though you know its not true you will
Spill beautiful syllables of how you miss me,
And that all you think about is to kiss me.

swallow me up in black moon of your dilated pupils that whisper  lies,
Let me swim in the oceans of your eyes.
I miss you more than you miss me,
And that’s a guarantee,
Tell me those 3 paralysing words again,
Lie to me again.

Why do you cry?
Is all you think about really the urge to die?
Do you truly just want to let go and fly?
Have you honestly lost all hope to try?
When I look at you all I can do is sigh,

You’re useless, boy,
Thrown around by life like rag doll toy,
Why wont you get up and fight?
Use all of your strength and might,
Why wont you stand up, boy?
All things you love you destroy,
Self-destructive habits aren’t good you know?
Yet all this said you do it so,
Why do you cry, boy?

No, they are not heroes from comic books, promising to uphold justice,
But to him they are Superman with his unmatched strength,
They are Batman with his unchallenged logic and wisdom,
They are Captain America with his incorruptible morals,
They are Thor with his magic hammer to fight off the darkness,
His friends are his backbone, his strength and his stable wall to lean on,

No, they are not Gods or Superheroes,
But to him they are the world, his love and his reason to live,
They’re My Beautiful Friends.

As my problems begin to multiply
Like knives in my heart, I start to cry
In this moment I look to the sky,
And pray there’s no soul more pained than I.

The night he lost it all,
His tragic fall,
He loved her with all his heart,
But they never got a proper start,
Breaking apart from within,
All due to his own sin.

I’d prayed for you to forgive me,
Yet God said it could never be,
“You’ve hurt her too much” he said,
“Get that into your stupid head”,
I tried and tried but it could never be enough,
But to get over what I had done, it was too tough.

And I got what he asked for,
A goodnight kiss.
A girl to miss.

His head hurts again
His eyes are black and bagged again
His lips an unrelenting frown again
His heart is sinking again.

Swollen with pain for no reason again,
The happiness from her he’ll never regain,
He cries out loud for something thus,
The sweet release of nothingness.

His tormented head hurts once more,
His entire being is unbelievably sore,
Reaching for love but denying the feeling,
His tired soul so sick of healing,
Desperate for feelings of attention and care,
But ignoring those that give it with a cold stare,
Feelings of self-resentment beaten into his core,
He doesn’t want to feel anymore.
Trying to change, in the end there’s no use,
A quiet voice whispers abuse,
The voice of you I think,
Here I am, back on the brink.

Smiling,
A fleeting, short lived moment of happiness is corrupted,
There you are again,
Running around in my mind.

Memories of staring out of the open window,
Framed by your purple, fabric curtains,
The tree outside waving to me as warm breezes flowed through the window,
It’s distinctive red leaves dancing around the strong, brown trunk,
Looking down I see your head resting on my chest,
Your long brown hair spread randomly and imperfectly perfect along my body and your bed,
My arm snaked around your shoulder, down your delicate back,
Encasing you in a protective shield of a seemingly undying love,
You’d look up, noticing my smiling gaze and just smile,
An open mouthed, teeth baring smile that could silence my demons,
But its not directed at me anymore,
who is it directed to?

I return to real life,
Left empty and lonely I sit,
My fleeting high of the rare drug ‘happiness’ gone,
Taken away by the smile that used to supply it to me.

I shouldn’t care I ended our relationship,
Get out of my head.

Is it possible to miss someone you don’t love?
Because if it’s not I made a big mistake.

His lost, drunken mind,
Who knew it would be so unkind?
Tearing himself up from within,
Causing his body to become so thin,
Alone in a house, his only comfort to drink,
In an abyss of sorrow our boy will sink,
His face a wrinkled frown,
What he wouldn’t do to not feel so down,
Beautiful words set to be so informal,
Our boy, alone, just wanting to be normal.

The hole in his chest,
Left behind now you’re gone,
Now his head has become messed,
And he misses you,
He struggles now to rest,
Trying desperately to fight hours,
To have met you he is blessed,
And he misses you,
To make time for you he’s pressed,
Battling through lonely days,
Wrestling his way through life’s test,
And He Misses You.

Perfect nights with bright, star-dotted skies,
Become the sharpest of daggers for his shrunken eyes,
Still, sparkling lakes teeming with green-headed duck,
Silences his head and leads him to peace? Does it ****,
Humungous, wooden giants standing sternly in place,
But everywhere he looks he sees your face,
Watching bright birds glide higher and higher,
Never able to distract the fact he’s just a liar,
Rolling, flowered hills as far as eyes can see,
Could never null my hate for me.

Did you hear their silent whispers?
Of broken cries and moans?
Dead behind the eyes as they walk,
Of all the sadness you have sown,
Leaving them to question the reason,
Your heart is full of villainous treason.

Did you look away as they bled?
From another youthful blade?
Forever questioning the reason why,
The hellish world that you have made,
As the streets turn a crimson red,
‘50,000 more nurses’ is what you said.

Did you taste their scared skin?
As they wept over fresh war wounds?
Children killing themselves for freedom,
Just wanting to write life saving tunes,
But you look at their skin choosing to hate,
Is that what you’re to be remembered for, mate?

Did you touch my screeching wail?
From the sorrow I have regained?
Searching for relief from this solemn pain,
As my selfish loneliness is now reframed,
Now lying on my deathbed I wonder,
How long until I’m called from down under.