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 have a fear of drowning.
sounds random, I know, but
bear with me.
I'm not scared of the water,
it's a force too great to prompt
anything bar acceptance.
It's the suffocation part invokes
fear. Those seconds in which
you are in a trance
a state
of pure lack of control.
When emotion comes
in waves of confusion,
lapping you up and,
leaving you
desolate as the beach without
the shield of the sea,
baring it's naked underbelly to
the world.
I have a fear of drowning.
I am constantly afraid,
suffocating under the weight of
my own sea.

Help me
I imagine the words
tripping from my mouth,
Finally.

Please

the whisper is unbidden
unwanted
People stare as tears
fill my eyes
with salty promises.

Drama Queen

the hiss fills the room
and I feel it's weight
once again.

Help me

the unspoken mantra falls
and shatters on the floor,
and I fear I will never tell a soul.

Why?

the response I fear is tangible.
I close my books
and settle down,
the class clown once again.

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.

into a ditch
Where owls don't blink
and your eyes are fish
and your lungs are filled
with an itching need
Fill your lungs with a
drunkmans greed
Catapult on speed and
fill your mind with mud
Within life's canopy, you've trod upon your bud
Thud
Thud
Thud
Your heart chimes
cheek to cheek
Filled with human strength
you realise you're weak
Weak
Week
Days turn from Weeks
Still your blood
Slow it with sleep
Reap
Seep
It's all bleak.

Let me take you into a ditch
and allow your mind to leak.

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.

I know what it'd be
There'd be earl grey and coffee
Bedtime and tea
And an old loved sofa
And there'd be you
And me
That's what we'd be

Two dogs by the hearthside
You'd hum sleepily
And there would be a fire
And photos in our farm
Our haven
By the sea
That's where we'd be

There'd be a rug by my feet
And I'd cook every night
And sometimes you'd drink
And sometimes we'd fight
And you'd always win
But I wouldn't mind
Because, most nights,
Some nights,
You'd lie beside me.

Settled
That's what we'd be.

Part of me likes what could be
But part of me has
Seen the inside of a tornado
And part of me
Loves in the heart of the sea

That part of me realises
That although you and I
Could be you
I would never now be me

So that future shall stay as
Just what could be.

I know this feeling
I know it well
And on the day
Which they did fell
Red flag, green flag
Blue and gold
A story which remains untold
The kettles boiling
The birds have flown
They match the letters on the gravestone
Assassination, a cold surprise
The bullet which we hide behind
The red flower falls
The deed is done
But do we know who really won?

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.

You start to taste with your eyes
The nights disguise of supposed peace
Hid release in Tarantula legs
Tarantula eyes
You feel like spiders are scuttling inside
scream, and only you will hear
peace is ceasing, peace is never near
steal a breath
steal a pill
Pray that you will
fall
into a beautiful abyss, no greater
release or escape than this;

A Sleep Successful

Pillows make a fort,
a duvet; a shield.
Limbs like a parachute
Keep your secrets close, and the
enemy of your mind closer,
Stronger
Longer

Sleep
Please, no oxygen, just in case
that helps them in.
Only heat

and the possibility of Sleep
*can bring hope now

Stab my stomach
Cut my brain
Just admit, you'd
Do the same.

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.

Useless
Toothless
Helpless

Can't give it
Can't take it
Might as well
Help less

Can't prevent him slipping
Into darkness
Can't stop her sinking
Into oblivion

Can't even help myself

Useless

I punched myself in the leg today
I had to stop the way
The voices were clamouring
In and outside
My head
I had to stop the dread
That's my problem
When it comes to the punch (haha)
All the voices come at once
Then
Overload

Then comes hate
Hate myself
Useless

The punch didn't even help
Wasn't worth it
It bought back something else

Never

Do

This

To

Yourself

Her hits would punctuate her words
Her cheeks reddening on each strike
She might as well have
Hit me
It hurt as much to watch.

her eyes locked in on mine

Darkly humorous really
That I was always so split

Between fear that he'd hit me
Fear that she'd hit herself
And always, always,
The fear that they'd leave
Because I'd made them
Want to once too much.

Faultless
Helpless
Useless
I was never truly innocent
Because the guilt was
Always mine

Pitter Patter on the window pane
I know your mind will never be the same
***** girl, you'll think you are to blame
Do you hear me knocking on your window pain?

You are insane now
You dance with flame now
I clothe your skin in sweat

Your eyes pierced tamed now
You're slain now

But I am not done yet
My stain
I am not done yet

Scoop you out and
Carve you up then throw
Away what's left

YUM YUM

I AM NOT DONE YET

Ha Ha Ha
I bet you're confused
I feel that you're bruised
Don't think that I'm done yet

Don't waste yourself
You're blessed

Do you have any idea what I go through?
You don't, and I
know you don't, because I never tell you.

Ever wondered why?

I have what seems like a million stacks
of paper pressing on my chest, and
all the ****** memorised facts
are fighting in my head, compressed, I
feel a bit dead. What this person said, what
that person said, my eyes aren't green
anymore, they're red,
and yellow,
and pink,
a highlighters tint tattooed into
my neural net, yet I don't feel
confident enough to bet it won't
wash off.
Yet each morning I still
brush off my shroud of too
little sleep, because I can't fall asleep
when I'm alone and when I'm sad I
moan to shadowy paving stones, as I
walk a march to the station to
and fro, and I secretly wonder, "does
it even matter where I go?", and every day
I'm just that little bit more slow, still keep
counting chances in my head, but when I
dance my heart can still
hear the lead I left at the
side, which resides with me
now.
I fall asleep on textbooks and
I wonder how this
became the focal point of
my existence, every now and
then it meets my resistance but
every time I squash it down, I wish
I dreamed of the crown of
innocence that once brushed upon
my head, but now I feel I'm guilty
instead, because every smile
is a second wasted. Instead I
dream of
paper,
and death,
and funerals.
And I watch as the
ones I love are lost, I
can't remember the
last time one of my dreams
was soft.
I can't remember.
This sacrifice isn't small, I haven't
actually listed much of my fall, but the
tallest order of all isn't even the
grades I must get if I can
finally submit to the
fact that I might be
worth it.
I'm leaving the first person I
have ever romantically loved
to do so, and just the idea
bruises my bones,
because, at the same time
as being miserable, mad, and
sad,
he has helped me be the most
happy, no more, filled, complete,
as I have ever been.
I have thrown my soul at
his feet, and he has
kissed it.
And if I leave him, I will miss
it, a part of me I finally found, will
resound like a long forgotten
tune, my new found flower
unknowing where to bloom.
He has not made it easy, I have
watched him torture, hate, and cry
to himself, I have watched him
wish himself past help.

I will always have her, nothing
can ever take her, she
is me.

But he,
he makes me fear the breeze.

I love you too, but if you think you
see a brick wall then you obviously
haven't looked to see how tall
it is,
I've run out of bricks.
All that are left are sticks,
feel free to scratch in an "You
owe me" but, you see, my perceived
"cracks" have triumphed, I'm
sorry to be the bearer of true news.
I'm sorry I can't sit up with you,
I have in the past.
I'm sorry I can't right now panic for you,
I have in the past.
I'm sorry I can't listen right now,
but I have,
multiple times in the past.

So leave a message after the
tone, and I'll get back to you
when you want a wall to moan at.

Maybe I'll chuck you a brick?

(p.s sorry if this was too "emotionless")

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.

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.

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.

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?

Why so quiet?
Screamed the girl
Why not take my head for a whirl?
Rip it off and count the rings,
then fill my face with
pretty things.

So quiet
I'm quiet
Why quiet?
Who'd buy it?

Swap action figures
for barbies *****.
Why the **** is
****** rude?  
Rip out my lungs
fill them with lead.
Attempt to preach to
me who's dead.

Taboo Taboo
The human stew.
And a graveyard landscape
filled the one she drew.
The face they grew was
filled with lies, when
they asked her what
she'd placed inside.

Bide bide bide
your time
Wait wait wait
for crime.
Unmarried tainted bride,
now God's dolls are out
to play,
save the number 666
Lock it deep away.
Pray.

You're crazy now
So lazy now,
You work yourself
to death.
Fill yourself with inadequacy
until your last life's lying breath.

Bereft Bereft
and filled with dirt,
your empathy is as pure
as Kurdt's.
You're so inert.
Don't act so hurt,
assert yourself and
'Pray'.

That your mood for
speech will wash
itself away
in holiest water
Soak your skin
of a sinner's
daughter.

Try to forget what
they've taught her.

Soak Soak
away til
wrinkles fill your
lust strewn eyes,
try not to act
like you're surprised.

Only God's can cure a fate,
which lies within you,
purely innate.

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.

There were sparks on her breath
Where the fire's caress had left her
tongueless,
the yolk of youth spat the
wrongness of existence.
Take the high road
***** resistance.
****** it's folds of fat.

The guilt of passivity sat
dead, and diseased, in
her throat
Invisible moat cutting into
face,
erase her social security
and the soft sand slopes of
unmarked dark purity.

The girl's existence fought
clarity
An apple lacking search
for sanity.

Once inside her mind, the girl
fought free:
she cupped the face of maturity
and licked his salty lips
her tongue scenting soulless spit
upon a torn pervaded face.
Ripping a loveless, humbled, embrace
into ashes, her
imagination cymbal clashes in
realities orchestra.

Shooting sighs worked up
her vertebra. Her lips, as
faithless as Cressida, lay
curled and cut forlorn
at her feet. Her tangled
continuation a
mangled, drawn out
defeat.

Life force-fed her a caps-locked
delete, a sunken voice sang of
soft sleep.

But the stump of a tongue
pressed
Repeat.

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.

Colour girl, caught up in a perfect
world
Stuck between your straightened lines,
Just pretend you're fine,
you're not
I know for sure that you're not.
You're rotting.

Sharpened face
Folders can't replace unsaid
words stuck down your mouth.
Your smile is falling South
for Summer.
Feed it
Or it'll leave forever.

You have been warned
You have been warned

Tap on the table
Line up the pens
Repeat, rinse,
rinse, repeat
once again
You'll never be clean
But, no one is clean

You aim to be squeaky
and lean.

You've washed away your hue,
and spat it
out on paper
Your blood is gone
The ink seeps strong
Your will has turned
to vapour.

In the end you're just a faker,
Haven't you learnt that we're all fakers?

Tap on the table
Line up the pens
Repeat, rinse,
rinse, repeat
once again
You'll never be clean
But, no one is clean.

Who the hell's clean?

Wash away the colour
Wash away the colour
Wash away your colour

He bore down and
Arching over her
A single holding hand cupped against
Her waiting skin
let me in
God's first kiss
She waited
Lips parted tentative
As he waited on the brink
God will let me think
Waiting
A weighted silence
Baiting
dip
Press against her lips
let me in
God's only sin

Sink

And when he pulled out
Slipped away
Her lips weren't normal dry
And inside a part of him was left
Behind
Dyed forever

Red and Eternal

I was more than this

More than the sieved shelled
husk in a hallway
Waiting for relatives to
scavenge fragmented
memories

More than the salted sinner
deserving of slaughter
Further than the fear in
my shivers as I stared down
a bullet; and lost.

More than just a media martyr
A way to sell papers
A symbol of massacre
Emotional wankery; societies comfort

That isn't me

I am more than just bravery
I am not merely someone's
More than a parent
More than a child
More than a hero
More than a minute of silence

I was my own.

A scribble;
Hobbies, Quirks, Tics,
Snarks, Anger, Laughter, Tragedy,
Sexuality, Inside Jokes,
Embarassment

I was secrets, that no-one else will
ever know.
I am secrets locked inside a rotting mass
I am forgotten; because I can no longer remember.

A stockpile of emotion,
reduced to a photo,
and the title of 'victim'
'hero'
'martyr'
'missed'

Today I am 2D
Today I 'RIP' Remembered

Tomorrow, I hope to be real
and forgotten

Tomorrow, I hope to have
**lived

I join you on the road of dread,
and slip my kid gloved hand
within your calloused own,
looking silently back at
the graves our roots were
sown on.
Just remember, we still stand
strong, the compost
heap became our home,
and now it's time to leave
Occasionally grieving it's
putrid absence.

Tarnished by it's
nostalgic scent.

Filled.

"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.

Make me feel alive
Cut away my walls
Make me feel alive
Rip me down
Just to watch me fall

Make me feel alive
Bite across my veins
Keep my arms untied
So I can treat you
the same

Oh, Feel me
Breathe me
Touch me
Release me

Steal me
Reel me
In
Cut the word sin
Into my bones
Trickle within
Just

Make me feel alive
Force me to take a ragged breath
and breathe release
Make me feel alive
Scratch your name across my chest
and crease
Test my endurance
You have my assurance that

I can keep this up,
Don't **** this up, but do
if you feel like you
want to

Just make me live again

When was the first time you took a pen and stabbed it,
sliced it, into your mind?
When was the first time you found you could find
almost every last fault
from the vault in your head?
Didn't it feel good, almost ******, almost narcotic, when you spread
your thoughts, in
liquid onto paper
Made something real from pure vapour
And destruction
Staring upwards at construction, the
foundation laid down the first
time you frowned and thought
Maybe I don't like myself?
Maybe I don't know how I tick?
or Maybe I want this moment to simply
stay and stick?
Was that when you first picked up the
brick of a pen and hurled it at the cement of paper.
That first time you felt you had to
vent to someone who couldn't possibly judge you?
Nothing safer than hollow ears listening to the

Seduction of Words

In life, awkward
absurd
But here, beauty is found in
the language of verbs and sounds, and
they take full rein, on paper it almost
helps to feel a bit insane, because the
Pen Society isn't traditionally a celebration of
normality
It's a celebration of more
So you drill yourself down to the core
and let your soul spill out, the most silent
shout in the world curled round every letter
Every evil neuron left to fester is found and
hurled out.

At first you tiptoe round the pain, but, as the addiction
of pure solace overtakes you start use every single vein
of thought you can find
Shooting up by peeling back all the fat and
rind of your mind, letting yourself
snort the unquenchable peace from
sighs of sibilance.

Contentment
No more repentance
Take you stupid cruel conscience, and tape up
shut it's mouth
Take down every photo album from the shelf
of your memory,
Present
Past
Let fleeting moments last
a hundred paragraphs
Let Lover's laughs last a decade.
Destroy every blockade
and allow yourself
Vulnerability
Tranquility
Love
Lust
Life and dust
Wipe away rust on repression
Take sessions of loss and
turn it into seconds of acceptance.
Let the paper love you how
you wish to be loved.

Fit yourself a glove of comfort
For the cold nights of desolation
Reach out from isolation
This all happened that first time

So,

When was the first time you took
A rhyme with
the knife of your pen
and stabbed yourself, again
and again
and realised that wounds don't
have to be physical to be real,
Don't have to bleed to require attention
Don't have to visually scar to prove it's
retention like a tumour.
Sting as much as a rumour.

Lodged.

And I hope that the first time you
hurt yourself
The first time you let
yourself feel
I hope with it came another first time
The first time you felt yourself
and the first time you let yourself
Heal.

because, in here, comes the most beautiful part of fiction feeling real.

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.

*******
Mentioning
My
Room
I throw the clothes one by one
into the gloom of the
chest of
drawers
Allowing myself only a pause
to gather a little claw of rage again to fold
and hold
Resolve

Stop talking about my room
Consider this topic
closed

Just how my door will be
In future.