She's like a drug,
You get hooked, you can't live without her.
She's like Mary-Jane.

You keep hoping each time the hit will last, But you can never get enough. She gets into your bloodstream, she's the needle in your vein.

You keep going back,
You just have no choice.
She's like cigarettes,
She's not good for me,

But God, oh God...

She's so **** addictive.

Because no matter what, I'll never be enough,

not even adequate...

A song that makes you cry

Have you ever pressed next on your playlist, only for the song to make you cry?

Have you ever listened to one of those songs and seen the person who you think about whilst listening to it?

I have. There are is a few songs that make me think of you. And I know I promised never to write another poem about you.

But I can't promise that.
Just like I can't promise to stop loving the memory of you.
Just like I can't promise to be happy as friends.

I can promise you one thing.
That's that I still love you.
And that whenever we are alone together, walking home, I can barely stop myself.

I can barely stop myself from stopping you.
From picking you up in a hug.
From kissing you like I should have.
From giving you the love you deserve.

I saw you the other day.

I cried.

I was listening to whatsername.

Forgetting you but not the time.

I could tell you a story of a girl I loved.
A story so beautiful that you'll question the truth.
A story of love, lust and passion.

A beauty, walking on earth like a fallen Angel.
The days we spent, side by side, hand in hand.
Kissing her lips, with vicious hunger, dragging hands through messy hair, falling back onto stained sheets.

I can also tell you a story of a man who lied,
Who danced the dance of deception.
A man who stood, head held high as he took a final bow,
Kissed her on the cheek and left,
To dance with the next, until nothing of the truth is left.

I could tell you a story,
If I had the chance,
However the music is starting,
Do you care to dance?

Ah, she's got these twinkly eyes, ya know?
Like really thin blue irises and really bright blue.
Not neon blue that's so bright it's lost colour,
but bright blue like you find on a Caribbean beach.

You've had a good look at her eyes.
You really like her, I can already tell.
When she looks at you,
Can you see the  emotion in her eyes?
Do her eyes shine when she looks at you?

I don't know,
She always seems happy when I see her. But they're warm eyes as well
When I was sad they were warm and understanding,
When I was happy and jokey they were...

Alive

Cloudless sky, full moon and the golden setting sun.
Tonight's a bombing night.

The sun set bathing the land in a warm hue, illuminating her hair in a perfect glow.
Tonight's a bombing night.

The air is silent, absent of the roaring engines that accompanied a night like this merely 70 years ago.
Tonight should be a bombing night.

But it won't.
The only bomb to drop is....

Wait! ****!
What was that?!

You say you really like me, and I tell you I like you as well.

Hell I'm pretty sure I ******* love you... And I tell you that. And then we don't talk. For ages. And I find out you're with someone else, always chasing someone else.

You know what? It hurts. Not even being a choice.

So you say you like me? And I ask.
"you wanna grab a coffee sometime?"

"yeah, I'd love to"

But now there's someone else, someone new, I can tell, you're gonna fall for them.

I don't get it.

You want me to be happy for you? You want me to love you? But then as soon as I talk to someone else? It changes?

I don't get it?
How sad do I have to be for you to like me?
How long do I have to wait?

It's not difficult,
Take someone innocent and corrupt them.
Take them by the hand and show them your world

Do you ever look at the state of the world?
Like literally stop and look at it, the imminent threat of war, the turmoil of a nation, the collapse of an entire economy?
Do you see that and it scare you?
It scare you into thinking, this might actually be it, the world might be ending sooner rather than later, in a matter of weeks it could all be over?

Do you see these stories and think?
Think hell, this might be it, I'm gonna tell her I love her, this might be it, I'm never gonna live my dreams, this might be it, I'll never be the one.

I see the stories of war, and I'm scared.
I'm scared for those who live in the main countries of conflict,
for those who have seen a war and worry what will happen,
for the kids who'll see the stories on the news or over hear it,

I'm scared for those who are alone,
for those who'll never tell the person they dream about that they love them,
for those who can't say how they feel,

I'm scared, I love you, please don't let it happen.

It's all over and that's it.
You're dead.

But others aren't. They have to live with your decision.

What about the boy or girl who loves you? How would they feel?

What about your friends and family? Would you want them to cry?

Death isn't the end of everything. It blames you for all the hurt you will cause.

I don't want to see you hurt. I know you don't care for me, I'm fine with that. Just let me keep you safe.

Let me care for you, please.

Please stop hurting yourself.

What if I'm that boy who loves you?

You deserve all the stars in the sky and every precious gem,
you deserve someone who will let you and help you grow.

you deserve someone who is going to be there in all the good and the bad,
who will spend nights holding you, just because you felt bad in an attempt to cheer you up.

You deserve every howl of the wind, every drop of rain, every ray of sun, and the first snow of every year.

You deserve the world,
But no one could ever give it to you,
Because that would mean they'd have to give you up,
Because if you saw what you were worth, you wouldn't want them anymore

No one could ever deserve as much because they wouldn't be the person that I sat up till 1 in the morning for 2 years of my life.
They wouldn't be the girl who heard all of my worst bits and stuck around.
They wouldn't be the girl who makes me smile and groan in frustration almost every day.
They wouldn't be the girl that encouraged me to be me and recklous.
They wouldn't be the girl that for so so long I wanted to be a permanent part of my life.

They couldn't deserve any of that because they wouldn't be you.

I'm sorry, I don't really know who you are...
But I saw you yesterday, and well, I've been seeing you a lot these last week's,
But yesterday was different, you appeared really sad, I would have spoke to you. But the bus carried on passed.

I wonder, do you ever sit back and think?
About what we were and what we had?
What we lost?
Do you ever see my name and wonder,
How I’m doing? What’s going on in life?

Do you ever wonder what would have happened?
What could have happened had it not been ruined?
Had I kept my mouth shut,
And followed you like I promised?

I wonder if you see me out, happy and smiling,
And if it breaks your heart like it does mine?
I wonder if you ever felt anything or was it all a lie?
Did you really love me or...?

I sit up at night and wonder,
Did I mean as much to you as you did to me?

To live and not to breathe, is to die in tragedy.

Is the same as to love and not feel.
Without love, whilst being in love, to die alone.
Without hope, without a smile on your lips.

Without the one person that you have loved your entire life since the day you met them.

To die in tragedy,
Is to die without wiping her tears away with your thumb as you cheer her up after she's had a bad day.
Is to never put that one strand of hair behind her ear and smile into her beautiful eyes.
Is to die without telling her that you love her everyday.

Is to die without the chance to make her happy

I can tell you about the day I met her.
I can't tell you the day of the week or even the date, but I can tell you details.

I can tell you that she was wearing a grey hoodie and pink converse.
I can tell you that she had the most amazing smile I've ever seen.
I can tell you that she had her hair down, but brushed behind her ear,
And I can tell you that her hair is a grey-brown colour.

I can tell you about the other day when we went out to the local woods. She was wearing all black.
But she was smiling, and I can tell you that she has the cutest blush ever that starts by her nose and covers her entire face.

I could tell you all about her.
I couldn't tell you what body spray she was wearing, but I can tell you that it smelt like spring, and comfort.
I can tell you that you could search the Amazon rainforest and not find something that smelt as nice.

I could tell you all that, it just wouldn't do her justice.

It's a mess, chaos,
Jarring my head and forcing my eyes shut.

Thoughts ricochet through,
Spinning, repeating, making me dizzy and blind.

I'm a mess, my mind is chaos, my chaos is my life.

A maniac and a saint, what a mix hey?!

Hey!

Wait!

I've gone insane!

It makes no sense! It's spinning, everything,
I'm dizzy

Picture the scene...

Emo punk kid, on a paper round.

Picture the scene, Emo punk kid is suicidal.

Picture the scene, creepy customer.

Weeks pass.

Picture the scene, it goes too far.

Emo punk kid pushes it and tells someone.

Picture the scene, police involved.

Picture the scene, emo punk kid attempts suicide.

Picture the scene emo punk kid has exams.
Emo punk kid falls asleep in his geography exam.

Emo punk kid has results day.

Geography teacher is there.

When emo punk kid gets told he should have done better, his world dies.

When he is told he should have gotten over it before the exams he gets angry.

When he gets told to move on he grabs a rope.

When emo punk kid's girlfriend left him, the rope made a noose.

When emo punk kid was told today that it doesn't matter that he was the victim of ****** abuse

Picture the scene, geography tomorrow morning, a rope and a stuck up fool.

Picture the scene, no more geography teacher. No more emo punk kid. No more girlfriend.

Picture the scene, now swap with emo punk kid and end it how you would.

I have no-one.
I cry as I write this.
I had written a letter for you, but it doesn't matter anymore.

I have no-one that I love that way. Not anymore
I am giving up on you, so I see you happier.

I don't like this feeling of emptiness.
I don't like having no-one.
I don't like feeling lonely.

I guess I'd better get used to it.

I'll always be alone

Fall in love.
Memorise their face.
Their personality.
But pay close attention to their eyes.
If you love them their eyes will be perfect. The eyes never change.

I remember her eyes.
I remember how they glimmer when she's passionate about something.

I remember her eyes, with the most beautiful shade of blue, that would be more at home on a Caribbean beach.
Blue, like a cloudless sky, so relaxing, so enticing, so magical...

Her pupils, surrounded by a hazel chocolate ring.
Just bright enough to contrast her pupils and the perfect break for the sea of magical blue.

Her eyes, that when she was sad,
dulled,
made the day colder, made my heart sink. Makes my heart sink.
But when she was happy, they shone, shone like the brightest stars, made the day warmer, and made my heart race, chase, duck and dive.

Her eyes, that I'll never get to see again, not the same way. Because I lost them.
We were not meant to be "more than close friends"

Yet I remember when she used to obsess over me, and her eyes would glow like the purest gems and the chocolate ring would shine like polished gold. And now....

Now they don't....  They don't do for him what they used to for me...
My eyes when I see her glow, well up, and flood.

Because I lost her. The one pure thing. I lost her. Her eyes will never again save me.
And I can't save myself....

It's all a lie,
That's what it feels like

She hates me
She only wanted to play a ******* game

I play guitar,
I play punk rock, and pop punk.

Sometimes people cause arguments with me. I fight back.

This time someone was insulting my little sister, trying it on my sister. I found him holding her in the back alley. I took my guitar and blam.
No more guitar,

It's four am. I'm passed out in an alley somewhere, covered in blood, is it mine?
I dip a finger in and test.
Yes it's mine. Some of it is anyway.

I feel around and find that there's a stab wound in my side.

Blood slowly oozing from the puncture,
I'm lucky it didn't hit an artery.
I look around.

There's the little **** who hit my sister! Who tried to... Tried to... He isn't moving! ****! There's more blood on him!

I lurch forward towards him, he's dead.
Throat slit by the guitar strings.
I move around.

The neck of the guitar is still embedded in my side. Stemming the flow of blood.
I stand I look for my little sister,


I don't see her! Where is she!?

I start running, everything goes red.
I round a corner. There's my sister.

She's fine.... She's fine... Thank God

In the running the guitar neck fell from my side,
Blood pours from the wound. There's an ambulance.

"I love you sister, don't you ever let them hurt you"

Can I hard reset?
Restore to factory settings?
Set to default?

Can I go back to before I met you,
When we were just kids?
Just so I can fall in love with you again,
But can we make it work?
Or at least give it a try?

If that doesn't work we can go our separate ways,
Uninstall the relationship,
Disable heart.ios
Because app requited love isn't compatible with this device

But would it be worth it for the same error message as before?

Error: file.unrequitedlove cannot be disabled

It's 7:58 am and I'm sat in a car park,
I've been up since four, running from 4:30-6:00, when I stopped to have breakfast,

Two bits of toast!

And then I rode to where I am now, work!
Only I didn't plan it through....
I bonked, went wobbly, so I sat down, and made a cup of tea, and that is the story of herb tea and bonking

I'd love to just message her and say

"I love you,  I have since I first saw you, and it ***** that I have had to sit and watch you be
abused, mistreated, hated, and left;

When I want nothing more than to make you smile.
You don't know how much it hurts,
when you start talking about someone who you love

Yet you forget I exist and I have to pretend to be all happy
When all I really want to do is sit and cry,

And I smile, but it's bittersweet,
Because I'm happy when you're happy, but I wish I was the reason you're happy and I know I'm never gonna be. And it *****, I love you space ranger"

I can't tell her that, no matter how much I want, because it's not fair on her

Late nights and last escapes
Are all that she lives for,
Fast yet to break and starving to shape,
To be beautiful like some scarlet *****.

Late nights and last escapes
Desiring more,
Pain and pleasure a thin layer of hope
To be loved like a saint once more.

Late nights and last escapes,
Vengeance and rage to settle the score
Worshipped, wasted under deaths claw
To be beautiful like some scarlet *****

For the last week I was looking forward to seeing her again.
Because when I see her, I fall in love all over again.
I can look at her smile and see the light.

For the last week I was hoping I could hold her and ignore the world.
Because when I hold her, I can do anything.
I can take on the world and win.

For the last week I was longing to kiss her,
Because when I kiss her, the world vanishes.
It is just me and her, and I don't have to worry.

For the last week I was waiting to be near her.
Because when I'm near her, I feel safe.
No harm can come to me.

For the last week I was dreaming of hearing her.
Because when I listen to her, no music can compare.
I can lose myself in her voice and never want it to stop.

For the last week I was wishing to annoy her.
Because when she complains she has the most beautiful grin.
I can smirk knowing the response and waiting for it.

What's three more weeks of waiting?

When you're name lights up my phone
I answer as quick as I can,
Even though you want nothing to do with me.

Clearly
You chose him after all.
I find myself wanting to scream at you.
Shout at you, hurt you.
I want to say

I HATE YOU!!

But everytime it's just,

I love you.

But not anymore,
Now I fight to stop myself screaming.

WHAT THE **** WAS I TO YOU?

Do you wanna know something?
You don't get to be a ******* memory

I was bullied;
I was hated;
I lost all my friends;
I was sexually assaulted; I went to court;
I went mad;
I tried killing St Jimmy;
Life wasn't going anywhere;
I was nothing;

I'm not weak.
I will never be weak.
You will only see me cry when I've been truly broken.
You will only see me weak when I have nothing to fight for.

You will only see me weak when I am at the point of giving upall I have become. And crawling away like a dog to wait for death.
Its okay,  

But I don't like being called weak,

I rose from my Ashes to become reborn. A phoenix,
If you would like,
Of chaos and rage,
Void and darkness,
With glimmer of red

Yes I gave up on happiness,
Because I get attached to the idea,
want it, need it. And it doesn't happen.

And it's hopes and dreams built up to come crashing down.
I'd rather wish and pray and give happiness to others than waste my life hoping for happiness to find me.

I'm not important when I can make others happy. What's one person compared to many? So what if I only talk to about three people, if I can make them guys happy that's more important than me being happy.

I'd quite happily starve myself so my friends could eat. I'd lay down my life in a heart beat to save any one of them.

And that's why I don't want my happiness, what's my happiness compared to others?

Why can't I be happy any more?

Because I can't have it ripped away from me anymore.

I write the best poems when I'm sad,
I draw the best when i have emotion,
I play guitar best when all I feel is blue.

I'm only used by people.
I love helping people,
I'm a selfless person,
I'd give away my last penny if it meant that a homeless guy could eat,
I'd give anything to make my friends smile,

But me?
I don't matter. Not to me.

Truth be told, I love everyone, no matter who they are, what they did, if they needed me there for the right reasons I'd be there.

Why?

Because I feel it's why I was put here, i won't be massively successful, I know that, but I'll be one of the best at what I do. I reckon I was put here to make others happy.

I guess whoever decided that thought that I'd not need to be happy myself

Honestly?

I don't know, I love the thought of having someone there for me if I need them, of having someone I can talk to and grow with as a person.

But I love my freedom,
I love being able to act without thinking.
I love waking up with someone in my arms and then happily living a normal life with them. But I cannot simply sit idly  by and not do anything. I'm a free spirit at heart, an adventurer, there's so much to do and I want to do that with someone, but I need an adventurer to do that with.

My head is a mess but I can't write.
I'm wide awake in the middle of night,
Just trying to sort things out, work things through.
But I keep coming back to you.
I write if I can gather the will,
I wonder, do you read them still?

Just send me a message I'm not far away, I know we argued the other day.
I'm not sorry for the things I've said,
It should've been kept inside of my head.
But they were true,
And just a few.
I could've said more but,
I hate our wars.

We're not friends,
That was the end.
I guess,
We gave it our best,
Did better than rest.
We took our time,
Should've been fine.

My head is a mess but I've managed to write.
I'm still wide awake in the middle of night,
Just trying to sort things out, work things through.
But I keep coming back to you.

I write if I can gather the will,
I wonder darling, do you read them still?

I don't care thats the thing. I cant take it anymore.

You don't know what its like with Jimmy in my head slowly taking over.
I cant, every peaceful moment is taken up by Jimmy and he is winning.

"I should have realised earlier"
"I can't have you running round like that"
"please do me a favour and just do It" he does that all the time.

Thats why I don't sleep.

I can't be strong anymore.
Doesn't anyone ******* understand.
I'm only so strong and right now  I have to fight myself.
I cant win this fight.

It will destroy me.
I have no strength anymore. If I take anymore I will crumble and lose the fight.

She is like the colour Red,
the colour of a beating heart as it is donated from a loved one to their partner, she is the colour of her perfect blush
she is perfect beautiful,
dangerous,
entrancing,
marvellous,
wonderful.
She's my only one.

She is like snow,
fresh snow, so perfect and amazing,
she makes my eyes light up and smile,
she is beautifully perfect,
and brings happiness to everyone,

she is the picturesque villages that one can fall in love with again and again every day. She is the frozen lakes that provide the childhood ice rinks where children play and dance, safe and happy.

She is...

Voices. They. Don't. Stop. Ever.

They make me wanna scream and shout.

SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT IT!

They're still there. Taunting. Poking. Ripping me apart.

They'll regret it. The new me is here. And they will have to ...

SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!

It's not working, they're still here.
Still dragging at me. All I need is a flash.
A moment.

SNAP.

They wanted me. They got me. They realise now.

The voices aren't there anymore. They ran away... they lost.

Hear that? No?

THEN SHUT UP!

I will not need sleep until reality becomes too much to handle.

Until my demons become too much to deal with,
I will stay awake.

When they become too much,
I will sleep
And embrace then in my dreams,
Like my long lost friends.

Isn't it funny,
how we're both sat in different parts of the city, and looking at the same stars?

Isn't is beautiful, to think that the sky looks so pretty for me and you, and there's nothing I'd rather see than you?

The stars rise every night, but we don't always see them, we're either to busy or we're asleep or it's too cloudy.
But still we watch and we never give up on them.

Just like I'll never give up on you,
You're my supernova, my ending, the destruction of everything I've ever known. You're beautiful, destroyed but beautiful and still giving out light.

So I sit, here on my ledge, looking up at the stars, the second most beautiful thing in existence, and I picture you.
You're barely a mile away, but you may as well be a thousand.
But I'll never forget you, you never forget someone you love.

"why do you love me?"

"why do you love the stars?"

"they're pretty and make me happy"

"then you have your answer"

The way mischief dances in her eyes as she taps the spoon on his nose, leaving a smudge of cream on its tip,

The way she huddles, hands in the pockets of her hoody in the cold,

The way she turns and smiles, before diving into your arms at the sight of roses, tulips and carnations that you give her.

The joy as you see her and your child sat in the sunset or playing on the beach, or at the arcades.

The Internet is broken and corrupted,
the battle ground of the corrupt soldiers who lay down their lives behind a screen, too afraid to step forward and make a change.

You have a voice.
That is all you need now to be different,
but to make a difference,
you have to use your voice.
For good, for what you believe,
you have to use your voice to its advantage,
take the virtual battle into the real world.

But why doesn't this happen?
I'll tell you why.

Media censorship,
Media propaganda,
Media control

The media have caused fear and anxiety of stepping up and shouting out.
By forcing images and thoughts onto people,

A subliminal mind ****,

You don't have to be visible,
Or even have your name known to make a difference,
It's not confidence that will help, rather it is anger at the oppression.

Anger at the media.
Break out.
Fight for your beliefs,
And never surrender to the propaganda.

The real fairy tale life

Christmas eve, cuddled up with blankets and homemade hot chocolate (it's chocolatier and creamier than normal hot chocolate) and marshmallows, with a stupid old chick-flick that you've watched every year for the last 10 years, because it's become your tradition, and then putting the kids to bed early and hiding their presents and getting everything ready for them, because even though you'll be tired all day it's worth it to see them smile.

Going to the grandparents and the in-laws on boxing day because Christmas day is your day with the family, and having fun, playing board games because you can't beat the classics, sitting down for a dinner and laughing at ****** ******* jokes.

And then when the kids fall asleep, loading them into the car and going home, ready to go back to work the next day, because you work a full time job just to support your family to make sure they're never missing anything. Only to get ready for new years eve and partying the night away with your friends before escaping to kiss at midnight...

That's the real fairy tale life, not the marrying royalty and becoming a princess but marrying the one you love and starting a family, because not everything has to be perfect, just as long as you're together

I have often pondered the reason for existence
We're here one day and gone the next, Just a whisker
from disappearing,
Is it really such a short distance?

To be birthed and brought to death,
To be made and broken,
Created and destroyed,
In a matter of moments

I have often pondered the reason for existence,
We're here one day and gone the next,
Just a whisker
from disappearing,
Is it really such a short distance?

But a moment can be all it takes,
A heartbeat of a second,
A kiss, innocent and chaste,
A strike, cruel and vicious
A tear shed by a lonely eye

A moment can be all it takes,
A heartbeat of a second,
Faster than you can blink
Quicker than a hummingbirds wings
A moment to make your mark

I have often pondered the reason for existence,
We're here one day and gone the next,
Just a whisker from disappearing,
Is it really such a short distance?


Bridged by the moments that define us.
The reasons for existence?

It's dark
It's cold
It's damp
It's empty

No.

It's gloomy, no light of any kind
Heat extinguished, just like hope
Dense, choking air, a sense of dread
Nought but the sound of breath and a beating heart.

No

Fog shrouding the area, blurring lamps flickering, wavering
Rustling leaves and fear, like ice pouring through veins
Rotting, decaying wood stench filters through the air
Blurred shapes, thunderous drumbeats and hasty exhalations

Once again I've fallen asleep in the shed

I write this thinking about the girl I love, stood out in the pouring rain.

A tear rolls down my cheek as I type away on my phone.
This pathetic fallacy makes me smile,
for the dreadful irony

I have no friends, not many.
I have allies, tools, things to be used.

A person is only useful to me when I can get something from then.
When they're no longer useful they're disposable, something to be removed.

If someone has enough pressure,
Enough money put on them,
They will do everything, anything for you.

People flock to power, and the best way to get power?

Be better than them.