I sniff and laugh
I've passed someone smoking ****

I've never been able to tell
the smell before, can't
Sniff
Smell
Tell
Well
Snort
Sort
Risk, a lingered puff.
I've always found it hard
to tell
when's enough
So I don't dar, but sometimes
I feel tempted to stare
into

simplicity.

I know the smell of everyone I've ever loved
wanted
hated
lusted
snorted like a dying drug addicts last meal

My first smelt of deities
a mens deodorant for a boy
who didn't know what he
wanted, but he knew what
he should.
He was sharp, uncertain, his
natural scent masked by an
advert.

My second smelt of fields
the earth was his roll-on
and though he'd mask it in
the oils of men, I knew he
smell of a hearth, hormones
and her heart on his sleeve.
His scent was primal and I
bathed in it's rawness.

My third smells of fire
whatever he's burning,
midnight oil, stress,
nicotine, I can sense it
soaked into his skin with
sweat. Encased in fire,
I suffocate on air nowadays.
He reeks of home, lust, longing

and hope.

I truly underestimated the power of a good ******

I really need a squeeze
I want to crawl into someone's arms
I want to sit on someone's knees
I'd like to feel someone's breath
Their blood beating under skin
I want to make the gap between us
thin
Safe within
I would like to snuggle
Please.

Like a swan dipping it's head
For pieces of pilfered bread
He kissed me.

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.

When I saw my bones
Protrude
From the knots of my back
Like the ridges of a dinosaur
Sapped of food, singed with
Stress
A childish distress
Fear darkness
Blankness
Terrifying emptiness
When I saw my back protrude like the
Ridges of a dinosaur
I saw my body dressed as the
Skeleton I will one day become
I saw a vessel controlling a brain
I felt like a bottle of tequila drained
Such fun until it's empty
Used to the tip of uselessness
When I saw my back protrude like dinosaur ridges, a skeleton
****
The most terrifying thing I felt when I saw my back protrude, like the dinosaurs I coveted when I was small,
The rudest thing I felt was

Satisfaction

With it all

I felt more beautiful than I ever had
Maybe
Ever will
Felt satisfied at the neatened carelessness I
Had almost used to **** myself
Satisfaction
That my body curved in
Only bones, no fat or muscle to
Hide the struts within
Revelled in the hunger in the pit of
Stomach because no one
Could control that but
Me
You can't fail at starvation

I loved it
For once I couldn't fail

When I saw my back protrude like a dinosaur
I knew I could never go there again

Because the living dead feel only
Hunger
Chest pains
And fatigue

And dinosaurs ate whenever the **** they wanted to

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.

So I hid it
Took it like a written confession and
swallowed it
Decades of genders, females and
males screaming, as I melted down
the word on my tongue they had fought to keep,
that they had killed for and won.
As I joined a flock of sheep who wouldn't
accept a goat
Who didn't want to listen when I wrote down
that I believed in the allegedly frown-worthy
opinion that equality should exist.
That it should be taught right from the yolk
of existence.
That it's regulation requires persistence.

They told me that prejudice was a myth
Ironic, they also told me I shouldn't exist
Told me I was lesbian, like it was an
insult, when I decided to stage a revolt and
mark the popular girl in netball
and win.
self high five
Oh dear, what a schoolgirl sin to
perpetrate.
I was taught to take hate by the masses who
yelled that
the classes of acceptance
were unnecessary

Popular girl: small correction, although
I cannot say you personally give me
a feminine *******, I'm bisexual, get it right.
Also examine the fact that you thought I'd only fight
because I wanted you.
When in fact I both loathe and pity you, you
do not understand your worth, and you don't
give proper respect to the earth of your
elders.
Who have handed down shoulder to shoulder
something different from the everyday pain.
They've handed down the hope that their strivings
were not vain, and one day this war will
cease.

The smoke of a pen, not
a gun, calling
peace.

So, I am a feminist and I call for release.

So, I want to make them happy
with me
with themselves

But I think I'm a bit **** at it

Like a mother picking up scattered
toys, there's always another piece of
lego to step on, always another
stubborn stain, and whilst
clearing you have to
activate your brain
because any
moment
they
might
trip and hurt
themselves again.

And if they do, you know, irrationally, that
in yourself you'll find the blame.
You're really trying not to show the strain,
because it won't help,
it won't heal, instead
rub your very bruised heel and
steel yourself for the next storm, recall
the times you've thought I can't go
on
and remember that you did.

Don't kid yourself, the
kids are alright
and you are too, allow
yourself to be one too.

Youth, after all,
is in the mind.

Try, for yourself,
for them,
Be kind.

I hate you, I wish you were Dead
**** me
**** me, please
**** me
You have something to live for, I
Do Not.
**** me!
Put a pillow over my face and smother me
It would be so easy
cries
Please. Please, **** me.

Do you have any heroine?
You will never be enough
You will never be enough to
make me happy
No one will.

A girlfriend who's doing way better who he'll lose or end up sponging off of
No Friends
Can't Die
Nothing
I could stand in the street and punch myself until everything bleeds, you wouldn't stop me
I could invite you over and stab myself
You would do nothing.

You popular *****
How are you going to last
without alcohol?

Didn't realise I was that far down the list
Nice.

You will never understand

You will never understand how
it feels to be alone with your
thoughts
All alone.
I just want someone to care
for me.

I could slit my wrists in front of you,
I don't think you'd care. I don't think
you'd do a thing.
If I died, you'd probably move on in
a couple of days.
You will always find someone to care
for you
Nobody cares for me.

Die.
Remember this conversation.
*******.
Have a ******* good time
I hate you.

I wish I were ******* dead
And I wish you would
******* die.

Aisling.
I'm done.
I'm going to slit my wrists
I'm going to hang myself
I'm going to walk into the sea
I'm going to overdose
Hopefully suffer a heart attack and explode
It doesn't matter
I don't believe you
I'm going to **** them
I'm going to **** them all
Stab them
Shoot them
Beat them to death
Nothing you can do
I just want it all to end

I'm going to make them disappear,
I've done it before.

Have you ****** someone else? It
felt like there was more room in
there.
I feel like you don't want me to
touch you anymore.
I don't want you to touch me.
You only get Freshers' flu if you've
been ******* someone.
You want a hug?
Sure you don't need a safe word?


Do you hate me
Do you hate me
Do you hate me
I bet you hate me
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
Take a ****** joke
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
You aren't the same
I want you to be with me
Not like this.
Sorry I've been angry
I can't really stand talking
to you

I didn't mean it;
I was high
I was drunk
I was angry
I wasn't me

I'm a horrible person
I'm a ****
I'm a ****
I'm a liar
I'm an idiot

You're going to leave me
Do you want me to leave?
Shall I leave?

Hold me
Spoon me
Give me a hug

I love you
**I love you too

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.

We look like Tim Burton characters
In stature and mind.

Tonight I dream of spiders
Hair spun, fat filled, scuttling legs
Quiver over my body and thighs
Eyes, ears, mouth, a tongue
A taste perforates through my eyes
Spills into my skull

Splat, Slash, Splot
Scuttle

Tonight I dream of Isolation
My footsteps fall on empty ears
Searching for life
Fearful, Tearful
Ripe with Strife
What does this matter?
I cannot be seen.

Unhear my own quiet screams
Please,
I want to
I need to
unhear.

Tonight I dream of running
An unseen assailant
I know, wishes to
attempt on me harm

You can't be calm
I can't, You can't
I Must
You mustn't provoke me.

I wake reaching
Reaching
Reaching

I find nothing
But empty solace.

Tonight I dream of fighting
Clockwork childhood
Figures slicing at my
face, racing me
to death.
A metal axe, a clawed
arm, walls with eyes,
a broken staircase,
distorted laugh, a
past repeated.
'Treated' to terror
remember me
dismember me
tenderly
race me
erase
me

I can't seem to wake up.

Staring at a reflection
Watching for clues
Waiting for signals
But I'm never allowed to lose
Weight
Fat
No flat stomach left
And thin hairs mar
The one you're left with
Your body protrudes underneath your
Bra-line and
It makes you want to cry
Your butts still good
But you fearfully watch the
Jiggle of your thigh

Your body is all you've ever had
Your teeth are yellow and
Your hair loves to be bad
your nose is chipped and angled
Your skin mangled with spots and
Scars
Marred
Imperfect
Only the mirror makes you smile
But photos lack the style of
'Attractiveness'

You feel you can only look like you
In person

But now you have to search for the good
You know they would have you do that.
Okay, I like the practicality of my body.
Where I have stood, there has stood
Health, a wealth of love in
Laughter lines
I love the lines of my muscles
Count my contours,
Feel I'm fine when I breath in my
Cheekbones, hate the stress filled
Frown lines
Never forget the time I
Looked and found myself

Too thin
Too tired
Too wired up
To find myself
Too injured.

Never regret
And never forget
The point I realised
At least imperfect
Allows for 'happy'

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.

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.

Alright page…okay, fine, I admit it;
I've been avoiding you.

Your face, beautifully smooth and innocent, reminds
me I have yet to find the time to paint it…so:

I apologise,
to the eyes I should have coated in the eyeshadow of
romance (scorned, loved, lost, lived)
to the cheeks I should have blushed with eroticism
to the ears I should have punctured with anger and
passion and vanity
to the skin I should have smeared foundation over: covering
bad rhymes like concealer over spots (still there, just less obvious)
to the lips which I should have animated with laughter and
sarcasm.

I apologise,
to the body of the poem which never:
Felt the stanza of a corset
Felt the **** lace of an internal rhyme
Felt the bra of a title
Or the shimmering dress of a metaphor

Or the thrill of removing every last bit.

I've missed a million date nights, and I
want to try to fix it.

Please? Despite our marriage of minds, we have drifted, I'd like permission to take our hands on a date once more
Letting the wine of ideas pour between
Sighs of Sibilance
complete contentment

**Tasting the catharsis of your lips

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?

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.

Manson's singing soaking them with
the silken sound of ***
His throat tearing with sweat and
blood
The way you'd like your
fabric skin torn
away
As he pours a flood of
need down your
throat and
legs
You want to beg for
mercy and more
Beg until your body is sore
with the pill of a breath
The sound of his pain
makes you feel bereft
and touched
too much
not
enough
don't
stop

His voice grabs the audience's crotch
Be obsene

"Light a candle for the sinners"
"Light a fire"

You could burn a country with this audience's
desire

Manson is ******* them.
And they ******* love it.

Emptied out the suitcase of my thoughts
I'm kinda tired of lugging them around
Searching for a place to just feel sore
Without some ******* telling me
To flip my smile around

If I could? Don't you think I would?
If I could just blank out the bullcrap of today
If I could? You bet I would.
Funnily ******* enough, things don't quite work that way.

Wiping away the scratchmarks of the day
With the antiseptic wipe of yet another pill

Paper kites fly with colours of a dye
dipped in ribbons
Hypocrites die
An eye for a eye
yet ******* keep on living

And the sky was cloaked
in glorious intentions
and the world was soaked
in the liars hosts

We're just vessels
We're vessels

And the sky was cloaked
in glorious intention
And the evening wrapped us
in it's own directions

We're just vessels
We are vessels
Of a soul

The sky takes it all
And the evening wrapped
us in it's own glorious
intentions

Your self taught wave appears,
tripping on sand, it clears
away your footprints,
leaving me to stand alone on
a rocky shore, once more.

The seaweed drags her down,
a dreary green draped crown,
shines about her hair,
drift away without
a care.

You're alone.

Why not?

Rot, rot, rot away.
Sway with the wind,
wait and wait
and wait,
someday it will rescind.

When did feminism become a taboo?
When did equality become uncool
Men not superior to females
Us not superior to them too.
When did I become the taboo?
When did this become uncool.

So I wish we are all square and blue
true, it'd make dating difficult
but what'd you do,
you'd talk to people
true
*** would be awkward
too angles
too many rights
won't create create the sweetest wrong
but at least we'd break the taboo

No colour
No gender
No looks
apart from the individuals descriptions

Believe: I am female
I am male
without doing a cursory glance up
and down
believe: I am intelligent
I am creative
without checking my pigment or
my ****

because I am done with it
I am tired non-acceptance
Snap decisions
Stubborn judgements

it's nothing personal

No, you made it personal
You stole a personality
Smeared it
Said it was wrong
Said I didn't belong.

So I wish we were square and blue
No stereotypes
No stigmas
No ***
cos maybe we don't deserve it yet.
If all we see are
pigment
genitals
and stereotypes.

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.