Thank you for the self doubt, today.
I was too shocked to retaliate properly,
it seemed too obvious to say
the words that I wished to.

That I am not you.

I'll not make your mistakes
I won't choose those men
the type you forever chose
time and time again.

I'm not you.

I am filled with self consciousness,
low self esteem,
my trust issues are high
and my confidence is not what it seems.

You made me a wreck.

I'm not you,
I'm paranoid and
suspicious and
tense.
Always waiting in
suspense
to pull up my
defences once
again.

But, I'm not you.

I'm always going to try,
I'll always have to
trust with
reluctance,
but trust I must do.
I am not you,
I'm going to find
happiness, this
I know is true.

I'm going to be with someone
who doesn't make me scared,
instead one who comes to my defence,
one who does not glare me into a corner.

"She was not like the mother who bore her"

Romantic I may be
but ignorant I am not
I would rather rot alone
then jump into bed
fully besotted
straightaway.

I'd rather wait and stay
wary. Rather
worry about their lateness
of arrival
then get on the first ride
I see.

What was it you wished me to be?
Stop being scared about your mistakes
and allow me to be me...
After all of that I think I know who I want to be.

Partly you
Partly Dad
Partly memories
Partly friends
Partly family

but, mostly and absolutely

Me. Why is this so difficult for you to see?

I'm pulling you out
I swear I will
I refuse to sit by and
watch you will
away your precious hours
and minutes.

The solution is there,
we just have to find it
and see it.

I'm pulling you out
of the dark hole you
have found yourself trapped within
so suffocated by darkness
you have missed the rays of
the light

Look up, you'll find the sun yet.

First, you must want it.
Not in a 'of course I do' way
but in a truly irrevocable
hunger for freedom

fight for yourself
I dare you to try
You don't know how
much it hurts
to watch another loved one
wish themselves to die.

So, allow yourself to cry
upon my shoulder
once in a while,
you know you shouldn't
hesitate to dial when
you wish to smile
among us, once again.

But, when you go whence
you came, try to smile
without us.
Catch a random bus,
meet a kindly stranger,
find new friends,
mend old bridges,
live whilst we are absent

Do it for yourself
Shelf the old ****
and bring in the new,
***** planks of wood
together (oh my) and
build your heart a home.

Find a new link to freedom,
a new place for happiness
to roam.

Find it, call something new Your Own.

You deserve Happiness
so take it,
you can (YODA).
Imagine all the
monsters have
ran away,
they're too scared
of you
to bother you one
more day.

SAY ******* TO THE *******.
Rawr at them
shout
demand of them
to get on, out

Out of your mind,
out of your bed,
out of your head.

you are stronger than they
have led you to believe.

You are not beyond retrieval,
I beg you to give your all
to yourself.

You belong to you,
we all love you,
but you must accept and
care for you and your
health,
or else what's the point
of anything else.

(And be warned: if
you give up I'm hunting
you down and
annoying you eternally
because I refuse to let
you ******* and
leave me ;) )

Do you ever get frustrated?
Tired of the fight.
You're sick of wobbling at the edge,
with nothing going right.
The moon is tugging you once more
and you feel you must take flight.
Even if it means your fall to
doom.

Oh God, let me find freedom soon.

The freedom to scream, as loud and as
pained as blood,
dripping freely from the chest,
the successive scratch marks of my mind
free to air their wounds at last.

There you go everyone, there
is my real past.

It's disgusting and it's vile,
and still has the ability
to rip the smile from my face.
I feel like I'm in
a constant race.

Who can reach her brain first?

Can she really keep reign the bad,
when we provoke the beasts
of her destruction?
Can we quicken her heartbeat
and limit her air?
How about, if we tie her hair to
spiders?
Watch them scuttle closer in,
wriggling and spinning,
trying to reach inside her.

Let's watch her play "find the sin"

The sins we hid within,
which are not hers
but others.
We know she won't want to
cause a bother,
she won't dob us in.

She'll hide them like she
does her soul.
Honestly, she sometimes wonders if it's
worth it after all.

She feels enclosed, compressed,
constricted,
a claustrophobic who finds
solace in small spaces
fears suppression of emotion,
the heavy tread of life,
can sometimes be quite weary.

But it'll be alright, she'll always
find the energy to do that
which is right.

She'll once more start to fight
She'll find solace where she can,
and cradle ***** of light,
she'll find a way to free herself
by flying like a kite;
string holding her down,
but wind taking her high.

She'll dance
and laugh
and twist
and turn
and dive
high up in the sky

Free as a bird, but secret silent as a sigh,
not the least offended, if people
pass her by.

If they can't accept her,
she'll happily flip them off
with a cry of contentment,
that she can finally be free of living
with resentment.

Her Girl, Lady, Woman
firmly by her side,
together they will glide
and ride the
tides of life.

"We're flying!"

They will cry, laugh and love
forever eternally.

Their quirks in constant harmony

And when they lie to rest together,
the girl will whisper:
"We will never die
I'll live so safe in your heart
and you will be in mine"

"I promise, and I know,
our love can only grow"

So I'll never give up.

Ever

*Because, I love you so.

How dare you?*
How dare you presume
that you can still reap
the rewards and the virtues
of those who have chosen to
keep
their offspring,

their livestock,
their produce,
their children.

I am your child
when you deem it plentiful
to prove it.
My temperament, unmild as
it currently is,
was rocked into existence
by your hand
on my cradle.
Your tears,
so heavy, on my head,
and your mind, so
allegedly stable
made me my bed full of straw
and needles.

You left me
uncooked and, as yet, wholly raw.
You who bore me, left me.

You left another to tend to my sores,
one who's age is sure not to eclipse my own.
You *threw me, out to pasture
to roam, alone,
feeling useless and inconvenient to you.

This may not seem true,
but who are you to deem it untrue?

There was no leniency in your
innocently though out cruelty.
For, after all, you must always be innocent.
Always must be abused and misused
by another.
You never perceived that you might be the
other?
Unaware of the pain your apparent
lack of care caused me.

My platonic fellow left to cure me.

Now she's the only one I feel I can
truly trust.
For, emotionally, I only shall do
if I must.

After you.

The disposable razor, judders
across unshaven skin and sprouting
hair is defeated, left to sink into the
drain and far away from me.

This I do for you.

On goes the shampoo, the conditioner,
the body lotion (with that sweet fresh smell),
the liquids streaming off of me with
a scent I know well.

It's the scent of the night before.

The day before you and I choose
each other, once again
to spread laughter and
cure boredom.

It is for this that I bear this small
portion of self mutilation.

The hair is then burnt, or brushed or
bent, as I twist it round resisting
bristles.

All done in case you wish to nestle there.

An outfit is chosen, discarded, then re-picked to a constant monologue:

RedNOworethatonelasttime...OH GOD WHERE IS IT fuckbloodypooandAAAH,
perhapssomepurpleTHATONEnodoesn'tgononoNoNONOONOO blahblahblah.

(well, you get what I mean)
(If not...****. Just me then?)

It's all for you.
Colours smeared onto face,
flowers pierced into skin,
eyelashes lengthened,
the trace of muscles etched into
willing legs and abs...

This I do for you.

And it's worth it, though you'll never quite know
the effort with which it takes,
to replace a sleep deprived villain with a semi
attractive teen. You'll never know,
but it's worth it.

"You look nice today"
is enough to make me quietly
preen
for hours with joy.

A look of appreciation as
you nuzzle in can make the
pain of straighteners and razors
scorch into unyielding flesh.

A kiss on the neck
which has been foundationed
and sculpted for your enjoyment
enough to make me arch like
a swan.

It's enough.

So, this I do for you.

Don't tell me that I'm overreacting,
you who, without a care,
do send me into the past.
You wouldn't know, you were not there.

Fine, in presence you were plenty,
but in comforting voice, you sure were rare,
you were present in my past
but that was when you chose to stare
away from your sins

Which you'd cast down upon my head,
through the way you'd made your bed.

With him
Surely he was your greatest sin

Why did you need to cast your lot,
with that ham ******, emotionally unstable
clot of a man.
Did you choose him "because I can."
or because you really were such a fool,
as not to listen to your offspring, who
could already sense his chill.

"You'll regret this, mum."

But you didn't,
so we did instead.
This blame of yours fell upon
our heads.

You kept him for me,
my brother
and every other whom you
could muster up.
But, in reality: yourself.
You just couldn't bear to be left
on the shelf.

You allowed a viper into eden,
a snake into the nest.
You took all words of positivity,
and you ignored the rest.

I suppose a part of you wanted to test
my limits.

It turned out: none.

You watched, unseeing, as he
wormed his way in.
You watched as my affection
he won.
You watched him glow brighter
than the sun, in my eyes.
You watched him scheme, and hurt, and prise
away my shell of protection.
You watched as he turned me into
a projection, of his tainted reflection.

You watched as love, turned to rejection.

You watched as he lost control.
You watched as I shattered, and was
pushed by him to fall.
You watched him cruel.

You watched, yet somehow recall
me as forever being glad.
Never recalling all the bad,
and the sad, which
you forced me see and hear.

No wonder I don't remember you,
as ever being near.

The striking times I heard your
voice
you were crying or in deep pain,
at times and places
where I had no choice
but to hear you.

Unlike with him, I could never fear you.

Sad, lonely figure.
Desperate for a love
which no ******* from
above
ever chose to give you.

I hope that you know
that I forgive you.

Oh Mother, I will always love you.
Even if it somehow has to be in spite,
of you being one of the causes of my
eternal fight.

I'll always somehow need you
Whether or not you're wrong or right.

I think we both were trying to see,
just how long we could live
without each other.
The answer is two days, and
I feel I shall be supported when
I say, let's not do this again.

No matter how, why, where or when
I don't think my heart can stand the loss,
and my future husband better not give a
toss about you joining us on our honeymoon
(You can bring your own man along to spoon)
for without you I'd surely swoon and stare
longingly at the moon, leaving him
to enjoy the nuptial bed in singularity.
I require my beautiful blonde to bring me clarity.

**** it, I'm trying to say I miss you.

With a heavy heart
and a comforting arm
I sit beside you,
my arm snaking over like
a tree over flowers,
branches desperately reaching
to prevent the raindrops
from hitting,
yet always leaving gaps.

I just want to reach to and hold you,
not just in my arms,
but in my mind
and my heart.
I want to draw you in gently
and tenderly prise you
from your pain.
A treasure too precious
and delicate to flaunt,
you are truly,
someone to be cherished.

I stroke your golden waves
and wipe the tears from your
porcelain cheeks and whisper
the words which
I hold you with, tight:
"You be my World"
and I hold you like so,
close,
yet never close enough.

I miss you.
The words cut thin, into
what is merely
the tip of this iceberg of hurt.

I stare blankly at the message box,
agonising over the three words...
untyped,
and as yet,
unsaid.
They are so much truer than the ones
already handing there, on the internets
metaphorical hook:
clique,
calculated,
unneeded and without emotional depth.

"Hey, how are you?"

The words are practically part of the set
of desperate messages I have
wanted to send you,
which would surely have rendered me
wholly unattractive to you.

You make me feel as desirable as poo.

No replies, mixed with affectionate goodbyes,
the sighs you make are surely lies,
when you say that you want to see me.

I'm feeling used, my good nature abused
of it's inability to feel suspicion
over your rendition of first loves
broad script.
Yet I leave my sense behind your
lips
which are locked with the key of
my obligingness.
My wish to try to humanise your
cockiness.

I sometimes wish you'd pay more attention
to the descent of me into madness.

This bewitching and beguiling madness,
so unlike the alternative.

The madness in the way you bridge the
gap between us,
an enthusiastic run of fun, and longing
for me.

The madness in the way you seem to
see me.
A sensual creature of beauty, perhaps
my blindness was from the serenity I
seemed grasp from your gaze.
You don't see me, but I'd be lying if
I didn't wish for that to be what I
am to thee.  

You leave me walking around in a daze.

I don't know whether that's a good or a bad thing,
but I know that all you have to do is ring
and I'm there,
I swear I am despicable as I seem.
Because, honestly, I still don't dare dream
that you may wish for this,
something other than my
'heatmaking' kiss.

I hope I can be brave enough to miss you.

But I don't think I can be just yet,
I'm not exactly playing hard to get.  

*enter

You are the cord,
the vein,
the pulse
which keeps me in this place.
Your affection,
so unconditional,
so protective
is an anchor.
Wrapped firmly
round my waist,
stopping me from
drowning
or
simply floating away,
just another helpless body
in the current of
life.

Do you feel sad?
Are you okay?
Are you alright?*

...do you really want to know?
Perhaps I should fill you in.
After all I'm filling to the brim
with repressed emotion, why not
make a rotation,
for your private freak show.

Go ahead and try to demean me.

I don't feel sad,
I feel worse.
I am filled with the
emptiness of
humanity.
Trapped within this
bubble of skin.
I am still disconnected,
unattached,
'free'.
I am, frankly, desolate.

I'm not okay.
My ****** functions
may
lie normal,
my vitals may be
strong,
but I am not 'okay'.
Who are you to say,
just what constitutes okay?
My life may seem fantastic
to you, but hiding
my emotion
is nothing new to
me. I am, after all, an
expert you see.
Why can't you just allow me to
be? without ripping to show
that which makes me
me.

I will never be alright,
this tight ball of
anxiety is
lodged in my throat
an invisible moat
separates me from
the ones my loneliness longs
to reach.
I am beached, on the shores
of my mind.
Desperately hoping for
someone to find me,
desperately hoping that this
time, their actions will
be kindly.

Stop asking questions
you've already made an
answer too.
Don't attack me for showing
weakness, this rot
goes deeper than you will
ever know.
Allow me time to sew the smile
on my face, to deface the battle scars
I should wear with pride.

Unlike you, I wear my medals inside.

I am strong, and I've had to be
for longer than you will ever know.
And, without your 'sympathy' I shall
continue to grow.

I shall be better than you will ever see.

There are little to no words
that can sum up that which you
are to me.

My World;
past,
present
and future.
How can I start to describe?

You are kindness itself,
strong where my strength fails me,
protective when I fall,
I am encased within your love.
You're a a mother to us all.

I cannot imagine life without you.

Even in my worst nightmares,
you are there.
Even my
****** mind
cannot allow your absence.
I would gladly sacrifice
my life for your own.
For, without you, I am incomplete.

You are beauty.

In actions, words and meaning.
Even when you're a *****
that phrasing still holds true.

You're shining light which guides me,
guides me home,
to you.

"Love will come set me free"
I allow the words of the song to wash over me,
the notes lightly brushing against my sore mind.
A shower for my soul.
God, I want them to be true.
Please Lord be kind.

Perhaps I would not mind so much,
the cards you've dealt me thus far,
if you could allow me brief respite
Please lift aside my bar
of fear.

Fear of those who could hurt me.
Fear of everyone.
Please stun this padlock from my mind,
so I might find one of the same kind.

It is not who you are,
but rather what you represent, to me,
which defines you.

You encapsulate a love for me,
which I will never know again,
all-defining, pain and fear filled love-
the one he took away.

In a manner, when I look upon you
I look upon him too.
The face of one who
tore my heart and threw it back
cemented in me all that I did lack
which he would then attack.
In a one sided battle,
the blows raining on me like tears,
adding years to my tender age.
You see he had tore the page of childhood,
leaving this book beyond recognition.

Looking back, perhaps I should have had a premonition,
Phil,
of what you were going to be to me.
But I did not want to see
that which would break
the tinted image which I owned of you
which I knew would remain
true
only to a point,
from which it would then be tarnished forever.

I so wanted you to love me back
and so agreed that I lacked
in all that you'd say,
come what may, I know that
I allowed you to control me.
It was not always so one sided.

You bided your time well, you know,
you timed it 'just so', so you
could be sure this final blow would hit.
A finishing spit in the exposed page of my future,

You turned,
you changed,
and the burning pain I felt within,
is possibly your only sin in
this endeavour.
As whatever you are I cannot
blame you for that
which is past.
No matter how long this pain will last-
possibly forever.

And I will prove myself again.
I will prove that I can still love and
be loved in return.
No matter how my heart may yearn,
I have no choice but to spurn those
who are like you.

A half life it may be,
but half full to me.

What you once seemed,
that which I never dreamed you would turn from.
That which, though I may long to,
I shall never see again
when I attempt to see anew.
Not even blindness could hide
all that is true.

Now all I can do is to
bow to the memory
in defeat.
I will never greet who you were again.

You will never eat your words,
you meant them then.
You still do.

The final blow is that;
I will never live up
to the girl you thought
you thought that you once knew.

You reap only the fake crops which
I attempted to sow
in desperation to be,
all that you thought once thought of me.

That girl is dead.
She lives only in my mind
and your heart.
Our paths were meant to be apart.

I think you may have the
rare
ability to understand me.

I don't know whether or not
to laugh,
to crouch back in fear,
to cry,
with sorrow or
relief,
or mask myself again entirely.

After all this waiting,
I still don't know if I'm ready to reveal myself yet.

I'm at the start of something terrifying
but even though, you are the cause.
I'm still glad
to have you
here
next to me.

I'm crying at your words of solace,
they're so close to where I'm hiding.
Hiding the true me.

I'm starting to think
you can already see.

This is taking a whole new type of brave.

And so I was a merely a balm
a relief to the break in your life
and it was a blessing to bring calm
to soothe that inner strife

But once a wound is healed
the healer is sent away
I guess my fate was always sealed
I could not cause that resolution sway

I relished our time together
my ability to bring a smile
no matter the stormy weather
you made my time worthwhile.

But now that smile is hers
to draw across your face
and I know that in your mind
I will never find a trace
of me again.

I stood at the sea edge
looking into the precipice
mud on my shoes
and a hole in my heart.

This time I asked for nothing
there were no more questions
as there were no more answers
of hope, I was, devoid.

I was already falling
air ripped from my lungs
numb of all emotion
good or bad.

I searched my heart for
something;
a rope,
a ladder,
a foothold.
Anything to once more
hold me to this life.

At first glance I found nothing.

And then Something
snagged,
a face full of pain,
of disappointment,
of grief.
An immovable object in
my current of life.

I couldn't leave her.

Of all others I thought nought.
But I could not, and would not,
abandon this one for the world.

You saved my life that night.

My beautiful walking Angel,
please don't fly away.

It was only you who could lift
me, from the darkest night and
days
of life without her.

My walking Angel.

He talks as though he has one foot
above,
he walks this earth afloat
already. Leaving me fitfully to
wait, in my safely anchored boat.
He's so sure of his inadequacy,
yet I would gladly soak myself in fear,
just so that I could have him near.

Sweet glorious Angel.
Clipped wings yet so ready to fly.
If you were to die, then part
of me would surely go too.

I'm already bound to you.

We both chose immediately to
shield that which makes us,
from others,
yet to each other, we managed not
to yield to the temptation of
our defences.
In spite of the offences of those who've
gone past, leaving a lasting brand
in our skin,
of each terrible individual sin.
Each scar wrought within.

Innocent Angel.

I am completely vulnerable to you.
Usually so overly aware of danger,
I have already, affectively,
sworn my life to you.

This next page is yours.

Dangerous Angel.

Whether you lift me up to fall,
or pull me down to drown,
I shall walk where you tread.
A breadcrumb trail of tears in my wake,
as I am shaken awake from your
dream
Your soul left to rest in the gleam of
my eye.

An unsnuffable candle
to guide you back to me.

Athiest Angel, I was asleep before
you came
and awoke me with your kiss,
jerking my heart from it's
Ivy covered cage,
our instantaneous gauge
of our compatibility
creating a feasibility
of merging.

Gentle Angel.

You took my beating soul
and gouged it with
a caress,
spelt your name
and my destruction,
with your irresistible seduction
of vulnerability,
and tranquility
of purity.

My tender Angel.

Your knifepoint was always fated
for my ribs.
Take me with you if you leave,
allow me to anchor-
no better- hold you,
and embolden you to be
whatever the ******* want to be.

With your battered suitcase of a soul.
How many more kicks can you take
before they pack you in?
The irony in that the sin was never yours.
I abhor those who chose to lord over you.
Please come aboard my raft of
defiance, which is learning the science
of your chemistry.

Darling Angel.  

I do not wish you to fall or fly,
instead remain afloat,
allow me to paddle my unshakeable boat
towards you,
with a view of amorous intentions.

My salvation,
who will surely be
my downfall,
my Samson.

I know what you have undone.

Me.

Hello in-built shell,
how shell-fish of me to think
I could avoid your beckoning
bell, of self pity.
Let us welcome in Sin-City.

Here is every bad thought you've
ever had.
Every signal sad wander
clad in bleak black memory.
The goodness drifting away
in a puddle of ink,
removing my ability to think
clearly.
No matter how dearly I cling to
the loved ones.

Look to your right and there's the
childhood.
Which you would not change even
if you could.
Because, detested as it seems, I still
feel a gleam of familiarity and
clarity
from my gloriously ****** up family.

Look to your left and you'll see yourself,
bereft of all emotion,
going through the motions of
life,
burning cold, rife
with emptiness.
Positively cesspit.

Look down, not straight ahead,
and you'll see all of the relationships
left dead on the highway of life.
The ghosts of what you said
pinning them anchored to drown,
stapled further by words
you regretted typing down.

Look up, far up in the sky,
endless arch of black,
dark harpies shrilly whispering
all that you lack.
The only crack of light, lightning,
allowing further attack
on your senses.
It dispenses quickly with
the pleasantries.

You're a regular here.

Now look sharp straight ahead,
stop stooping with dread.
Look up to the light, and fight
for the figure you see.
Look past the debris, and into her
eyes,
whose blue offers glimpses of less
stormy skies.
They speak of cold coffee, and
too milky tea.

Pedal your boat faster

She's where you're meant to be.

Think Positivity.

If I could take the blows I would
If I could find a way
to shield your mind from pain, I'd do
that which I know that I should
do,
which is to protect you,
to me that is what is truly true.

I shall not pity, nor pander to
your pains,
for I know that will not help.
With you the key to many problems
is your own brand of self-help.

I hear your sighs, the unsaid silence,
the way with which you obviously
mind, your mind.
I wish that I could reach inside
and embrace the part you choose
to hide to others.
To lift the covers and show you,
the right world built anew.

I want to take the frame and change it from askew.

All I can do is let you know that I'm here.
All I can do is attempt to appear at the
exact point that you need me.
All I can do is make sure you see
that whatever you will be,
you will never lose me.

I've just seen you
New you
Old you is gone
Lost in the melody of the
Song which once ours
"I'm no superman, I
Hope you like me as I am"
Pity that songs aren't always true.
Old me misses the old you.
But new me can see,
That you and I were never meant to be.

When you saw me I saw no shock
Not even a hit on the lock of your heart
Which I so longed never to part with.
I was so innocent then
That was back when, I was pure
And demure
And sure that none could ever want me
Unaware of the power of the stare
Upon me bare
Unaware of the care I should have kept with me there
In your sights
Every part of me convinced you were about to take flight
Leaving me with only ragged feathers
To clutch in the night of my terrors
And pray and wish it wasn't true
That I had lost my only purity:
You.

Calm yourself, your heart
and mind
Give up your body to
sleep
although your nightmares
may plague you, I
believe you have the
power to keep them at
bay.
Allow yourself to sway
their way in the metaphorical
wind of the storm,
your grin should be worn
as though you are reborn
with the power of
acceptance.
My dearest friend, allow
yourself this one respite,
calm your mind and
sleep soundly through the night.

Apparently I talk as though
something's missing from your book.
I laugh because I know there's not, yet
I'd be lying if I said that I
hadn't already looked.

When I speak of you my words reveal
none of that which you've become,
I dare not tell them what you mean to me,
nor how you make me feel, once more,
young.

I'm feel as though I'm wobbling from
the sturdiness of your grip.
Unbalanced and uncompromised,
I'm bracing myself to slip
away from you.

I'm waiting for you to leave,
preparing myself to grieve
over your loss. A small voice
attempting to convince that
I never gave a toss for you
at all.

If that voice was right, then I wouldn't feel so small
without you.

You worry me

I haven't felt you attempting to hurry me along,
nor have I felt the need to
long for your affection,
your regular attention shows a surprisingly
full acception and reflection
of myself.

You're lifting me from the shelf of my creation,
my elation dampened simply by surprise
and shock
that the rock I have been clinging to wasn't
such a burden after all.
In fact it became a tool and
rule of our companionship
which I timidly, yet confidently, accept
to be becoming
a relationship.

Welcome to the Mad House.
(I hope you decide to stay)

I'm sorry that
I wasn't enough
Whilst you were
Rough
and Tough
I was small
so,
though I
gave my all to
you
you ran me through
with impatience
a need for me
to be
more than I was
or ever could be
I guess that all I
want to say is that:

I'm sorry that you were you
and that I was merely me
but I suppose that, in the
end,
that's just the way
it was all
meant
to be.

You are still you
and I have finally accepted
that I will always be
me.

I'm sorry
sorry
sore me
poor me
pity me
I do
do you?
do too
it's true
that my truth
has lost all meaning
so I lie
and die
a little every time
the words
choke me
rope me
into doing it's
bidding
keep a lid on it
stop me
poor me
sorry
I'm so so sorry

even if I'm not.

"When are you going?"
"Soon."

Soon you'll be gone
and I'll be left to long,
alone, but for the song you
once owned which belongs to
me now.

Soon you'll be gone,
and the messages you will receive
will mask my panic that I'll
never retrieve you again.  
Left so small and rotten.

When you do return, will you still want me then?

Soon you'll be gone
and those who wish to greet you,
who are going to meet you.
They'll love you as I have done
and they're the ones that you'll now
become 'one' with.

Soon you will be gone,
leaving me to be, less than
I have been. Less than you
have seen.
And you-
I have learnt that you'll find someone better.

Soon you will be gone,
and I'll be left to sink,
blinking hazily up at the
lights of the night sky
which you once helped me track.
Haunted by the ghosts of all that
I have lacked.
Yet again.

Soon you will be gone.
I will carry on, though I
hope that I do not have to
without you.

I don't want to be alone
left to roam, with search lights
yet again.
I'd rather trace a happy smile
with my pen, then stain the
paper with my pain.

But, soon you will be gone.
Then I won't belong.

Again.

All that I wanted is past,
and all that I hated will last.

I wanted.

During the day it was a ballet dancer,
light and free in the wind,
the sun puffing out her skirts
as she becomes one with the grass
and the tree's,
scraping her knee's with the weak care
of youth.

I wish that this was the whole truth.

At night it was a different story,
one which reeks of gory
skeletons in the closet.
A strangled safe with no deposit
key,
if I opened it,
would anyone listen to me?

I wanted to run downstairs and make them stop,
I wanted to throw a metaphorical rock
and lock the fighting away.
I wanted to stand in the door and sway
with the force with which I yelled "shut up".
Loud enough to make them see the **** up,
which their memories no longer admit,
but which mine allows to stick and sit to
the inside of my skull, the heavy thump
of their words, never to dull.

I wanted to make them hear what they couldn't see,
what they were going to make me turn out
to be.
See the weights which they were making me bear,
the chains which they were forcing me to wear
shackled to the bed on which I'd lie,
and sob, and wish the nightmare to die,
along with the monsters under my bed.
Which were slowly creeping into my head.
So I'd lay there and stare, at the sins of the grins
which they forced me to wear
in the daytime,
which is only a hairsbreadth away
from the stark truth of night.
My teddies knew more than the average of frights.

I wished them to be happy again,
but when they were happy, I have no idea
when.
I have no idea, if they were truly happy then.

It appears to be a myth of my construction,
a foreshadowing of my destruction.
A tale which doesn't include remote controls
thrown across rooms,
doesn't allude to bedrooms strewn with
the memories of a once happy tomb,
once glittering baubles of laughter
cast aside, shattered and scattered
with the cruel hate of ignorance.

Left for young hands to sew back together
with lack of skill made up by care,
their fingers tenderly caressing the tear which
they would soon learn to label their own self
harm,
in a bid to create a calm in the eye of the
storm.

The wound, well worn, was warm with constant reopening.
The little girl left to pray for hope again.

She ignored the strength the beast possessed,
she couldn't care less, she decided,
and so gently chided it to sit back down for tea
and tell her, once again her favourite bed time story.
It's yelling was dulled down by her own voice
humming within her ears,
of the song which was theirs,
and the grooves in the chairs where
she'd sit on his lap.
She learnt to ignore the harsh slap
of her mum down the hall.

The little girl curls up in a ball, a
peaceful smile on her face; full
of love, forgiveness and grace.
Inside her a war rages on, it's steady
beat masked by the song she still hums
and drums into her head.
The little girl lays down in bed.

At least in a while she may sleep,
her memories may fade, but they're
ones she must keep.

I'm just waiting for the **** up.
The point where I say the wrong thing
again,
laugh at the wrong joke,
ask the wrong question
or be the wrong person
once more.
I'm so scared I'm going to bore you
with myself.
But after last time,
and the time before,
being someone else
isn't really an option anymore.

I just really hope you like me,
as I am.
For it's the only thing that I can
be:
Me.

I still smell of your smoke.
Wisps of carbon monoxide ribbons
through my hair and allows me one more
glimpse of me, sitting over there.

I still smell of your smoke.
Your laugh sending dragon puffs
whistling on the wind, the warmth of
it, of you, of here, beckoning me closer in.

I still smell of your smoke.
Roll up placed between fingers, resting
by my side. Your light hearted words a
whisper, of the defence you hide behind.

I still smell of your smoke.
Tar resting on my clothes, a
memento of the addiction I
once did swear to loath.

I still smell of your smoke.
simple, but it's true.
Every time I breathe it in I
can't help but think of you.

Smells good.

Everything lingers on
but I don't think you do, so much
anymore.
Perhaps because, all
that I saw of you
wasn't really you
at all.
Don't worry I'm not about to bawl
at the idea of this trick,
for you might be slick but
it was I who chose to stick
this
illusion
this
idea
to your frame.
How could you be to blame?

And so you linger,
but not actively,
not aggressively,
nor painfully anymore.
And she who saw what
she thought she saw which
cannot be seen anymore,
has emitted the last snore,
of this dream of the scene with
you in.

It's time for a new reality to begin.

I aim to never regret,
to never stare back and lose
myself
completely in the moments
which have passed...
For how long would I last
if my energy was sapped
and I no longer could map
my way back to here.
Better to steer clear of nostalgia.

But, I sometimes feel I have to,
to stay true to who I am
I must acknowledge that which made
me this.
That which all I can do now is miss;
Their Smile
Their Hug
Their Kiss
In truth, there is no greater pain than this.
Be it lover,
mother,
father
or other.
Their memory and scar of happier times
will always cause the chime
of destruction.

A fairly simple yet awful deduction.

The girl sits
In the straight backed chair
A baby in her arms
An unneeded anchor
In a too calm sea

She sits not for herself
Not for the baby
She sits for her craving
Her craving to serve
Her face a blank mask
She is desperate with longing
Her longing to serve

But Yet she is happy
She is content
She would wait for a century
For one petty morsel
One morsel to serve

She watchs her husband
Her brother, her cousin
Their mouths moving proudly
Yet their meanings blurred

She watches them laughing
See's baby crying
Yet why should she care
The baby's not her's

She see's so much love
So much laughter in movement
She see's so much flourishing
And it's all hers

The punishment blurring
The passion so strong
Yet she is so happy
For she has her longing
And her longing is hers

emptiness, so much despair
hollowed out without a care
in the world
left staring out of sockets
in your own personal hole in the ground
the only sound, the last breath of air
goodbye to this whole sorry affair

So you think it's time to give up do you?
You've had enough,
you can't take any more...
you've fought and now it's time to die,
a single sigh of acceptance billows out,
you've got no energy left to shout.
Wasted and forgotten,
it's time to leave this shell to rot on
without you.

So that is what you have decided.

After all of that,
all the crap and defiance,
you've chosen to become the burden
you despise.
That need you've tried to hide from those
who would suppress the
depressed you.
The inflatable puppet with a puncture
wound has fallen,
into a crumpled heap.

it's time to sleep*

Well if that's your goal then
I won't keep you waiting long.
Obviously my will to live and
fight is wrong.

So you,
now,
break off from me
and go to hell

You're right, you're done.
But don't you dare think that you have won
the right rule over me, to make
the whole of me,
as one.
You have no where near out done
or out run, you see, if
anything you have merely
stunned
me,
enraged
and motivated
me
to become more.
Even more than the one
you had thought to defeat before.

I don't need you.

I don't need that lingering voice of doubt,
if anything you suppress my shout of
defiance
which rings true and bold.
The full story which is yet untold.
My life rolls out before me.

You thought you saw me crumble and fall.
Turns out, as yet, you ain't seen nothing at all.

Tonight I'm feeling unattached
Unmatched
Unabashed
Mashed
Blended
'Spended'
Pended
Re­ndered
Rent
Lent
Out to the highest bidder
As they snigger
At their puppet.
I don't know how to stop it.
as I sit laughing into the precipice
A kiss of death
Away from oblivion
Get a ****** move on.

Perhaps I'll soon be gone

Perhaps I've been too long

Perhaps

I am surrounded
by people
Trapped
by people
Sapped
By people
of strength
They have
taken.
The people
are everywhere,
Screaming
Laughing
Crying
Dying
and sighing with fatigue
I watch

Fearful of people

There is nowhere to hide.
I shall have to bide my time
and one by one they'll leave

me

Soon the Moon may take
me.
Slip the rope from the harbour of my body
and cast me
out to sea.
My hand stroking the silky water
whilst I watch the silent scream,
the dream, of myself floating away,
whilst the anchor of my mind
drops
Unattached
and Unencumbered.
Turning instead to foam on the
waves.

One day.

Soon the Moon may take
me.
And make me once more it's own.
Letting loose the beast within and allowing
it one more roam.
Freedom at last.
All that is past dropping from it as
a bit from the steed which will
no more
sit a rider.
Useless
I will hide her.
Useful only to me.

If you could but see.

For,
Soon the Moon may take
me.
Cutting loose the rope which binds
my arms to flesh,
and heart to mind.
Letting free the wings to fly into
the sky of tear strewn clouds.
Once more allowed the bitterly taken
happiness.

What could mean less?

The moon may take me
Break me
But I will never allow me to
Forsake thee.

My boat would find your port
My beast your stable
My wings your pedestal.
I am your own
You are my Home,
and so I shall never allow myself to roam
without you.

Never shall I abandon you alone.

Detached,
floating beyond the confines of existence.
I hear and
see and yet do not
feel.

No pain can touch me here,
no hand near enough to reach
beyond my cloudy veil.
Ecstacy,
Joy,
Sorrow,
Panic.
These states bubble across the
surface of river,
my fishbowl,
my cauldron.

I lie underneath,

The emotions slipping gently from my lips
to the surface,
a perfect finish to the puppet beyond
my reach.
High above, my head floats
whilst my *** sits cold on the bench
near the boats
Alone
yet everywhere
Who knows if I can yet
be guided home
Again.

It is a child's pain
a small cut on an even smaller hand,
The hand, now much older, will never let it smooth again.

It is a child's pain
an innocent mind, tarnished only by tantrums.
Murky now, it shall never be pure again.

It is a child's pain
once so easily surprised and alive.
Has turned to ice and acceptance, never shocked again.

It is a child's pain
confusion and denial, yet never bitter,
that loss will not be whole again.

It is a child's pain
the empty gap in a scribble of 'my family'
to never completely be clear again.

It is a child's pain
an all trusting love and longing,
left with merely wishing to belong again.

It is a child's pain
a part of me, a side of me, a slice of me, that cut in me,
it will never be me again.

I am the eye of the storm
the break in the waterfall
caught in the balance
of suspension
I lie
surrounded by destruction.

A blizzard rages
far away
so far away now.

It surrounds me.

But I feel no pain,
there is not a spec
you see
of me
left.

This is the calm of acceptance

involuntary

unnatural

immovable
improbable

acceptance.

Accept the rough
Accept the tough
Accept the abuse
that you had
Accept the sad
Accept the mad
Accept it all.
Knowing that they'll catch you if you fall.
They'll understand it's not your fault at all.

Accept every last scrap of crap
Accept the 'lap of honour' you'll never do
Even accept the poo.
Because you'll receive what is due.
The only bit that's down to you is
living your life.
Regardless of the strife.
Forget what would and could of been,
Accept that which you should;
That although there might be some bad,
there is always quite a lot of good.

So deep in your arms that I drown,
unable and unwilling to break for air,
completely bare
to you.

Hold me,
so tight I do not feel or see
the silent, dry eyed sobs which rack my body
Love me.
I don't even care if you don't.

Hold me,
if my illusion of control is gone
allow me to construct another,
let you be the stitching of a temporary plaster,
that I might carry on.

Hold me,
break free my icy barrier
let loose my tears, that I
might let go the years I have grown to.

Too fast,
Too soon,
Hold me so I might forget.
Don't remind me of what's real just yet.

Please.

Dearest lover, stroke my hair.
Pull the thread which binds me,
strip me bare
of pretence, which I've layered on.
Stare upon me,
See me wrong.

See the burnt out hair,
the un-smoothed skin,
masked with the care
of unknown sin.
My green eyes guarded within
their painted black,
the legs, though shapely,
lack
the never-ending stream of gold,
instead look icy, pale and cold.
Look upon it,
Stare upon me.

Now press, accept, my quivering lips to thine,
that once more I may claim myself mine.

I never had a care for myself,
as long as I felt alive
and did survive
I never strived
to protect my shell of skin,
until she pried me from within.

For, although I still felt numb
I lay, for once, undone
before the one who prompted
love's bittersweet curse.
The one I could not reverse,
nor find a remedy,
to stop my pain to you
from me.

When I am cut
you bleed,
and when a burn
scorches my thick hide
and guilts my inside,
as I watch you suffer for my sin.
I hurt within,
as you writhe from a blow dealt by a kin.

There is no graze or scar
upon my body which she has not felt,
no beating I have dealt
upon myself
which has not gone to her
twicefold.
My heart burns cold
at the blow that she,
loveliest of creatures,
was dealt
me.

But, you see,
I've accepted that yin to my yang you must be.

I ask of you, are you worth it?
The pain and lack of care,
the continual tear of my hearts
many scars,
the trapping of me once more
behind the bars
of my blindness of feeling.

The blows you deal me send me
reeling,
and yet I still find myself
kneeling
at your sacrificial altar,
once more offering my all,
mind, body
soul.
Knowing you will only take
the second,
that once more you will forsake
my mind and soul.
Congratulations on your ****.

Flashes of light,
rushes of sound,
through the stream of life, bounds
the rarities.
Breaking forth for
air
with lack of care
for my sanity,
for, although
it may seem vanity for
me to present an unbroken seal,
to hide what others
would say is real.
I so wish to stay secure
to ensure
I do not yield to the
lure of
madness.

It is with sadness that I
admit the futility
of this stupidity of
a wish.
How much more can I persist?

Pain
contained in a cell of skin and blood
throbs hard,
striking out at the walls with a thud
forlornly I stare
down at the bud
of the poem which I had wished to begin,
and wonder exactly which sin
this mind war is repentance for...
ah well, suppose it's sods law.