Only harms the lactose intolerant
Just think of the relevant mess
We could make with a shake
And the click of the lid, as I rake
your mind for reasons we should
Rather than shouldn't
I'm going to go there
You could 'come' too
and wouldn't it be fun

To make a relevant mess for once

**shake

Soaked with sorrow
Temperament melted away
Leaving only a feeling bereft
And the burnt up char of
remains.

Little Girl
Blonde hair teasing through
layers of breeze
Her grin collides with the sun
filled with ease
and the breath of spring

It's a beautiful day to live within

To remember your face
the jut of your chin covered in beard is now the only thing
un-erased by your sweep of hair
and even that's a puzzle
show me your face
I miss seeing your lips
but you've lain down fluff
like a mask, like you
want to prevent the path of a kiss
I'm finding it harder to miss,
because I can't remember the last time we properly
kissed
I want to play again
like new born lovers, laughing and
exploring
Instead of the open signpost which
states that lust isn't home right now
So please leave a message after
the tone of the
voice that sounds weary of me, but
desperate that I should never
leave
I want to feel wanted
I shouldn't feel haunted by your laugh
you're not dead yet
but every day I have to check
I'm so tired

Trim the beard
The hedge
Take a mower to the wilderness of your
face
I want to see the
**boy I love

Feverish hands fluttered like skittish birds
Nervous eyes danced like a swan's last song
and the promise of tomorrow was left on my lips
like a sticky note.

I could never stop at just one tattoo
To signify you, if
I started,
Because each tribute could
Never come close to the greatest
Symbol:

My skin;

You're in the wrist without scar lines,
The arm without needle tracks,
The dent in my smile,
My mini half dimple and
Every laughter line I could never erase
Frankly, my dear,
You complete my face.

So any tribute;
Any Scorpion
Moth
Pokeball Rose
quote,
Or aptly chosen sloth,
Would never come close to the
Gaps in-between:

You're every drop of blood that has not spilled
You're the heartbeat I couldn't
Still, because your face
Was too hurt in my head.
You're in the fact that I'm not dead.

So, in a way, there's no point etching you into my skin , my derp,
Because, you're already, irrevocably,
There.

I love you in moments
my eyes and my ears
the shutters capturing
Your all.

I love you in moments
fluttering lashes catching
a faded photo to treasure
Your soul

I love you in moments
A laugh, a touch, an embrace,
But even they cannot erase
the beauty of your fragile vulnerability.

When you need me,
I am truly in your thrall.

Shoot up with Ink,
Take off the edge,
allow it to float you
down off the ledge
of destruction.

Instead place yourself
in reconstruction,
go on,
change it all;

Skin
Words
Thoughts

This drug may crawl you back to freedom

First the skin, cut to within
Slithers of scratches
Skim over your arm
doing just enough harm
To Ensure you're alive
Yet this pen's marks are
harmless enough
that they can only reach inside through your mind

You're sure to survive
you must never cut deeper
A needless nicotine patch
for a virginal physical self-harmer
Cut yourself Calmer

Here come the words,
allow verbs, vowels and nouns
to sound their way out
Say things you wish you'd said
Type things you want to shout
Find the door and safety lock
and force your way
bound out

You are Alone
but for whispered, mouthed and subtle
tone of Freedom

Relish and Revel
Search your way to hell
out here
Find the things so close,
so near,
you couldn't see them if you
tried,
they hide behind the ink.
Blink, they're gone,
splattered in the lyrics
to a lifelong song,
branded.

How could something so true, be wrong?

Allow your thoughts to be free,
be you, be me
See everything
Feel all,
Stall as you wait for the buzz to fade
You can never be sated with this
Something you can't recall
but you must always miss.

Addictions scarring, marring and barring
words always a
kiss
away from overdose,
it's so close you can taste it
Feel it's breath

When you put the pen
down

You can only feel

Bereft,
so test yourself again
Find the mental vein and
slice it open

Feel the pain of truth
Open the roof of your skull
and allow the clock to fall
Ticking
to silence
Violent peace
Calm chaos

Hyperbole
Alliteration
Oxymoronic
Nouns
Verbs
Words
Words
­Words
Think
ThInk
hInk
Ink

Ink
InkInk
InkInkInk
InkInkInkInk
InkInk

Drifted ashore
No oar
No paddle
No hope
Of retrieving this day

Floating sulkily away

So pass me a rope so I can
sway my ship to the
next
**hope on the horizon

Like freshly shorn hair
Swathes tumbling freely
Empty despair
and shock at silent grieving

Old self leaving
Cleaving of new

Empty and Ready
Filled with true
*Expectancy

I find myself confounded
Playing Contortion with my fingers
and thighs

I widen my eyes
and **** in my cheeks
and smile with the grimace of sleek

I take up my neck
Scrape up my hair, hunching my
shoulders, til my collar bone is bare

I squish in my ****
And I hide my arm fat, pronouncing
my ****, by arching my back

but alas

I've shoved my stomach forward
My **** appears flabby, I **** in
the stomach, delay being 'saggy'

again

I've breathed in too far,
now the waist is too large, but outwards
sees the stomach, again, far too large

so I look to my legs

I again perceive dregs, of stretchy
spotty, teenagehood, and the memories
dredge up insecurities

I tiptoe round my vessel with dread

I've thought of every possibility in my head

I've reminded myself of
health
vitality
living

Yet when I stare at the fat
I feel I give myself too much slack
*start sieving out imperfections

Rests on the skin coloured hills
of my waist
As I waste my mind on ethanol
and seek a hand to fill
the heat that was lost to the ghost

Even if new warmth is a dangerous roast
At least my atoms can be fooled into
not freezing
At least my mind might
stop teasing
with the looped up memories of
denial

*cease

I'm having an attack
and I don't know who to
call.
I don't know if I'll
ever break down
these walls of
social insecurity.
"Who would want to listen to me?"
Listen to me ramble,
and scramble for
footholds.
Watch me fold in
on myself,
shelfing mentally the
moment
the date
the weight of this
particular distress.

Give me a minute,
I'll just compress it.

Target 1: learn to admit
when you need help.

I'm sick of feeling calm
and 'Brave' and 'Strong'
I'm longing, for once, to
not have to balance to maintain
'Right' and 'Wrong'

Because it's 'Right' that people
either play the 'Soldier or the 'Victim'

But, I've never had a ******* say
Never get to say ***** it
Never run away
Never raise my voice
Never add to the confusion

Because I'm the only one who can sort it out

Well I'm sick of playing Clean Up
Sick of wiping up your Slime
your Anger
your Hate
your Uselessness
your Ineptitude
your Spine and
your Gluttonous Selfish Views

Sick of your **** and sick and bile

Sick of having to smile and say "I'll be fine"
Sick of having to whine
Because it's the only way I stay living

Why do I have to be forgiving?

******* All
For the length of this poem I'm
going to be TALL and HAPPY and POISONOUS
and HEALTHY
then I'll go back to being small
accepting
pitiful
and fading

and I'll never tell you all,
as I rearrange while you blame,
that the 'faults' are
all
our faults
after all.

I Need
I Pine for passion
I want to smell the scent of you
The decent of you
enveloping me
developing me
to accept my
Desires
Fill me
Feel you
til my body tires
Mind left alight
I want to fight you
Struggle
Tight
Taking and Taken in return
Yearn for me
Ache for me
Shake for me with
your need to
bleed lust

Well, I think you get the general ******…

;)

Breath catches
Snatched away
Hidden from lungs
for two whole days.

Company's good, but
Lonesome brings pain
Seek camouflage alone in
The rain.

Looking for comfort
but who the hell cares?
College is noise, loud boys
and glares.

People look to unload
Upon you their stuff,
not knowing that you already
have had quite enough.

Feeling fatigue
Teachers all laugh
"If you're really this lazy
how are you going to pass"

Chest lights flame
and head hurts like hell
Counting the hours
until there goes the bell.

Going to dance
to search for release
You weren't to know,
it now only brings grief.

Everything hurts,
***** are too large.
Your back feels the strain
as you stumble adage.

Everyone brings pity
but no one brings hope
and those who don't know
keeping chucking you rope.

I won't give up,
I refuse to give in
I'll staple once more
to my mouth a grin.

Repeat the mantra
alone in your head
Try to stay afloat,
rebirth the undead.

You can do it,
you've done it before.
At least this time,
you know not to ignore
Yourself

Think First About Your Health.

And so I tripped.
Slipped away
Into the dusk of the sunshine,
uncertain of my mind being mine,
sighing with the unease of
contentment.
Yet again left in confusion over the message's I've sent
myself.
Tbh, I'm not the perfect picture of mental health.

The blade cuts deep and
Clean into yielding flesh
Blood pours, red as sorrow, and
Leaves my body as I do
Ready to start afresh

Stop

It's not like that,
It has never been like that.

Your mother's kitchen knife,
So loved for making soup,
Is brought up to your wrist
Judders, twists only just scratches.

You have to try again.
A network of scratches.
You press the blade,
The metal,
The rusting onion destroyer
Back down.
This time, it works.
You find yourself sawing at yourself,
The cut is uneven
And messy.

Your body is screaming, and
So are you.
Not with pain of life but with
Pain of death.

You can only blame yourself.

And no release is found,  no gentle tumble into peace,
The pain rips through you, consumes you, you're crying, sobbing
Like a child.
You feel like one too.
You want your mum,
Your dad,
Your dog,
Your siblings and
All the friends you insisted you didn't have.

You need them with you, but you decided to push them away.
You decided not to ask for help.
You decided you wanted to be lost
Dramatic
Alone
You decided...that you wanted to 'give up'

Giving up is turning out harder than you thought.

The tears have fallen onto your cut and it stings,
Your arm smells of onion,
You suddenly think of her face lit up with love
As she pours you a bowl,
You laughed at a joke as
You buttered your bread,
You laughed...

"I haven't properly laughed in years"

You realise that was only last week.
For someone who's been 'imitating' life, the
Memory is surprisingly real.
You realise she'll never be the same again.
You realise you'll never laugh again.
Or taste,
Or smell,
Or see
The room starts to stink of
***,
You've ****** yourself with fear.
Do you think your 'oblivion' is near yet, my poor deluded dear?'

It's not.
Blood is dribbling out as you think,
You feel yourself shutting down
One by one.
You want to run away,
From what you've done,
What you've started.

But you can't.

You want the pain to stop
But you can't move anymore,
You're shaking with fear of what's
In store for you...

There's more to happen to you.

Your mum has found you.
She screams at the blood,
The mess,
At you.
You look grotesque, but
She still holds you.
Calls an ambulance, clutches you,
Shouts desperately in your ear.

You can hear her, but
You can't answer
You want to talk to her
Tell her you're sorry,
That you're scared,
That you love her
that it's not her fault*
You want a lot of things,
But the selfish do not always win...
You're realising that.

She can't hear you,
She blames herself, her
Skin is greasy with
Blood that will never clear:
Your blood.
Her baby's,
Her child's.

The blood so near to her's
Half hers,
You can practically taste her tears.
The room now stinks of fear

The ambulance is filled with light,
You watch as they fight
For the life you threw away
They plunge a needle in as
You silently start to pray,
Drifting in and out of consciousness...it seems too late to stay.

Your heart hammers,
Your rattling breath stammers out and
Your pulse shakes as
You frantically try to stay awake

You are too late.

And there is nothing
No eternal bliss
Nor the black velvet of death's embrace
Not even folded silence

There is nothing,
No light,
No love
And no laughter.

In the end they didn't lose you...
You lost them.

By succeeding

You lost.

So if you feel you cannot love me
Let me kiss you one last time
and in the potion of my tears I'll wipe
away the laughter lines of your memory
of Our Year
All of the Good ones
The Stupid
The Happy
The Dull
The Weird
Your Beard
So that ifwhen you leave me
My mark of imperfection must leave you.

Mustn't leave a trace
Except for the single crinkle on
your face when I made you
laugh.
You mustn't regret a thing in the
past
So, if we cannot last, then
my memory must leave

Do not grieve
That will be my job.
So, allow me to rob the food
of me before
I mould

It's better and worse **this way

Whisper
mutter, mutter
scratch
Through this latest
batch
of lies
upon the social table,
the one
which
is never stable.

Cackle
laugh and
moan
groan with
hate and
lies,
sigh when others
talk
watch them
as they walk.

Watch
stare
glare
Keep the victim
unaware
of their
humiliation
and jest in frustration
of their blindness
you sneer
and say you
do them
kindness.

'Two Faced'
such ironic satire
that when
others
inquire and
act
all high
and
mighty.

"This is how
it must be."

Amass
march and
shout
Breathe about
how you
want them
out.

Seethe and
bubble
on the
quiet
I feel done
with this
diet
of
gossip.

Someone tell me how to stop it?

I got shampoo in my eye
I'm a liar
but it's better than telling them
that every time I close
my eyes, all
I can imagine
Is what would happen if you
die.
How your golden hair would
mould, thick with blood
How your thin bones would hit
the tiles with a thud and
Mud would fill my mind
How I'd recall every time I was slightly unkind
and blame myself
For leading you to this

I'd remember every kiss
and all the one's I'd missed because
I'd chosen my life
I'd taken the risk
and lost

I'm imagining the frost of your
skin
I'm imagining begging a God to be real
Just so he could take away your sins
Just so you could smile again
Heal
Somehow

I tried so hard to help
Help
Help
Please, stop looking at me like your last
latch on life
Put down the knife
and start to help yourself as well

Because I can't tell what else I can do
I'm losing here
I need you to help too

There is a pressure in someone needing you,
a pressure many of you will know.
It's the expectancy that you can bring to
them, some otherworldly glow.
Even though you feel your own light dimmed,
they still wish for you to help them with theirs,
unaware that others face issues too.

Sometimes you need escape, from
everyone and everything.
Sometimes you need...normality. Sometimes.

What can I give you?
You're busy, well, I'm busy too,
busy-ness and stress are not things
specific only to you.

There is only so much I can do.
When I have work, and
family and
friends and I haven't
seen Dad in weeks and
everything is laying
once again in tatters, as always,
but never mind because all that
matters is that there
is always that
one last thing to
mend.

That one thing.
Sometimes it's me,
sometimes it's a boy or girl,
sometimes it's a friend
or a loved one
or an unfixable object.

Sometimes, darling, it's you.

You have no idea how much I want to help you.

I'm trying. Give me that.
Fine, I ****** up, but
I'm human too.
I'm imperfect and selfish, but
so is everyone,
including you.

I am no angel, you thought
too much.
I have fought, and will continue
to fight on your side, but I'll
not abide you placing on
me so much pressure,
I cannot always be the cheshire
cat of smiles, cannot always be
lost, cannot always be drifting.
Sometimes I'm just tired, over worked
but happy.
Which isn't so bad to be.

I don't like people seeing me weak,
I detest the fact that I turn
so meek at the mere sight of
people.
I don't want you to pity me.

I want you to be my friend.
You are my friend,
I've given you my trust,
why can't you see how tough
that was to give?
I'm not about to give up on you,
so don't give up on me.

I enjoy spending time with you,
love laughing at your jokes,
messing with your gelled up hair
and thinking that, for a couple of minutes,
I took away the cares that bothered you.

You cannot disbelieve that which is true.

Darling, sometimes I need space,
I need sleep and peace, with
no pressure to be perfect.
Sometimes I cancel plans, but
there is always a reason, a valid excuse,
and I would rather I
didn't turn to find abuse for this.

When I've had to go to a funeral and,
for once, would like someone near at
night, which recently has caused me fright to be alone,
the right response is
to wish for my boy to be near.

So I did. I told you. I felt bad.

I feel sad that you're aching,
but everybody hurts.

After a bonfire, when I
can't get back til late, and
I feel tired and weighted down
with aches and bruises, I tend
to lose my wish to hitchhike
home, so that I can feel bad
for feeling sleepy.
So I can feel bad for keeping
you waiting.

In that moment, all I want is
coffee, and near
friends and tea.

Whatever you wanted me to be,
it wasn't human.
It wasn't me.

Fine, I'm ****,
I'm a ***** and
a ***, and obviously
don't care at all, but after
all these years I have the
***** to say something to
your face (well..computer screen).

Don't you dare erase me.
Not after all of this.

I'm dyslexic, naturally
disorganised, my sense of
time and calendar is catastrophic and
I'm forever full of work and
dance and sleep.

But you're going to keep me,
please,
because I don't deserve to be
ditched.

If you don't agree, then you're the *****.

For me to 'survive'
I need you to live
Because I can't thrive on what
others give.
Like Cold Coffee
Literature
Melody
The Sea
You bring escape
and intimacy
unique
to me

And so; irreplaceable you'd be.