You were enthralling, enchanting - and I never stood a chance,
you were mysterious, enticing and you had me in a trance.
You were the mystery I never dared to have solved,
the enigma of my life around which my world revolved.

You have a heart made of beautiful gold
and a soul of stardust that'll never grow old.
There are sweet galaxies within your eyes
and your scars are constellations better than the sky's.
You're a walking universe so wonderful and sublime;
someone who'll remain important across all space and time.

Explosions and gunfire wherever you walk,
not knowing your fate as the hands whirl around the clock.
Blood running like a river through the streets of rubble,
body parts scattered around - each one of them has crumbled.

They've declared a war again like many times before,
not caring about the civilians; battle commences more and more.
History is repeating itself time and time again,
it seems as if they cannot from bloodlust abstain.

This is about the innocent lives that'll be inevitably lost,
their precious and innocent souls are the greatest cost.
Their last memories will be that of brutality and threat,
and watching their family die randomly one by one; like a game of Russian Roulette.

Masses of skeletons and piles of bones
will litter the lanes as common as stones,
and their names will always remain unknown,
and as they perish they will do so despondent and alone.

A burning flame flickering,

an emerald colour shimmering,

with a smell of earth and trees;

and on my fingers is the soft feel of wax melting with ease.

The storm came bounding over me with clouds of uncertainty
and howling winds of change like an entity.
Water droplets of despondency drowning me with every bead;
Mother Nature herself cannot stop this blizzard – for it is a clandestine storm, indeed.
Nobody is going to rescue me from this typhoon –
my struggle through this torment will become my greatest triumph soon.

Hello you, I have a few things to say,
and although you are downhearted, I hope they make your day.
Your life took a turn and you fell so hard,
but I promise you're not broken but merely scarred.
Soon things will get better and you'll wake each morning with light in your heart,
with a smile that lives forever within your eyes, moulded like fine art.

I want you to know that you're the most beautiful creation I've ever come across,
you are the beacon of light for so many and if we didn't have you, we'd be at a great loss.
You are the one who can go ahead and actually change the world -
a precious soul who can break the mould and change the ideals that have been furled.

How hard it is to really live your life
when all your fears in your mind are strife;
the fears that keep you hidden in your room
afraid to leave in case those fears become realised in all it's gloom.
Like the skies I cannot hold the pressure, feeling so very snowed under;
With my mind in turmoil and at the end of my tether, I'm ready to explode just like the thunder.

I am a myth and something that cannot be defined,
ablaze with the fiery heat of a life that has been most unkind.

With a touch of a feather I ignite a match,
wanting nothing more than to detach
myself from the earth that caused my tribulation,
and to cause my own cremation.

Black ash darkening the sky's midst,
I am being kissed
by the scorching blaze of a newborn flame
my last breath unnoticed as the calm overcame.

Rising from the ashes, I am born again,
powerful, exultant, majestic through all the pain.

You are first and foremost my mother by genes and DNA,
but you're also my friend, my hero and the light in each day.
You're there when I need you, there is no doubt
and you're the one encouraging me to figure things out.
You're there when I'm sad and when I feel that I can't keep going through this mind war,
you're the reason I keep fighting to get better; you're the most inspiring mum I could ask for.
I love you more than words could ever hope to say,
and I promise I won't give up - I will battle this despondency every single day.

I was a puppet and you were my master
pulling my strings and controlling my acts, I was set up for disaster.
You moulded my identity and sense of self with your foul abuse,
every day that you'd force yourself upon me was a fight I'd always lose.
You took from me my individuality and my innocence too
and placed despondency in its place with my childhood falling through
but I am not fully broken and you no longer have control over me
and I am rebuilding myself back up and better I will be.

All I’ve ever wanted is to be loved the way I love everyone and everything around me,

And perhaps that is the most dangerous thing of all because to crave that affection with all your heart

Leads to reckless acts and treacherous situations to gain that attention and warmth that you’ve wanted all along.

Who Am I?

Am I the mistakes I've made?
Am I the scars made with a blade?
Am I insanity?
Am I the bad side of humanity?
Am I the inches around my waist?
Am I supposed to be easily erased?
Am I the imperfections I see every day?
Am I the monster that tried to take my life away?

Or...

Am I the books I've read?
Am I the love I spread?
Am I the dreams I've made?
Am I all those kind words I've said?
Am I the bright light in a world so dark?
Am I the bonfire spark?
Am I the creativity I emit?
Am I the hidden soul and spirit?

Who Am I?

Oh how I love to sit,
drink tea and to a book commit.
To be taken into a beguiling imaginary place,
where anything is possible if only we embrace.
A true escapism from all of life's horrors,
we become the character's explorers.
It can be a despondent journey across the pages,
as I continually ponder what my life has become for ages.
I realise all the characters that I will never be;
recognise the adventures I alone will never see.
Although, it can be a beautiful experience if we read between the lines;
because we discover who we really are and build on virtues as we read the signs.

My desolation fuelled demon drove me sinisterly to the edge,
“dying by your own hand is the only way out” it alleged.
So I walked to the bridge over the M25 and stood inclined.
Then I jumped- but halfway down, I found I’d changed my mind.

Somebody please tell me why I miss someone who has hurt me so much.
Unforgivably and unlawfully has he treated me – and demolished my life with his icy touch.
So why do I miss him with this ache in my stomach and with tears in my eyes?
O why O why? When he caused my childhood’s demise?

All she ever wanted was to be loved the way she loved everybody else day in and day out;
She desired to be craved and she didn’t care how; she’d do anything to get that love without a doubt.
So all the boys took advantage of her fragility and broke her into pieces until there was nothing but residue left about.

It’s an addiction like any other; it’s always the same story
“if I don’t eat as much tomorrow I won’t have to take these pills so purgatory”,
yet each day the dose gets higher and the symptoms get so much worse –
you’re dependent on the emptiness and pain it brings with its curse.

Dear future daughter...
Don't listen to the other girls who say you're not enough,
and please don't ever allow them to push you to give up.
You are worth much more than anything in existence,
and if anyone cannot see that, they are full of ignorance.

Dear future daughter...
Nobody is ever going to save you,
but your own strength and courage will see you through
all of life's obstacles thrown on your path throughout,
and you will survive it all, I have no doubt.

Dear future daughter...
Your mental health comes before anything else baby,
forget school, you have to put yourself first young lady.
Curl up with a good book and ice-cream galore,
until you feel better and your happiness you can restore.

Dear future daughter...
Boys or girls - whatever your preference,
will break your heart - just for future reference.
Love isn't the be-all and end-all in your world,
even if that is the belief that has been furled.

Dear future daughter...
It's okay if your thighs touch and your tummy isn't perfect,
please remember you are a person and not an object.
You are still so beautiful, embrace your imperfections.
Please notice the beauty in the mirror through your reflections.

Dear future daughter,
Ignorance is not bliss; study and work hard.
Do not allow your perception of learning to become marred.
Value your education - it's the most priceless thing you'll receive,
think of all the things that you alone could achieve.

Dear future daughter...
Don't ever dumb yourself down for a relationship or to "fit in".
Don't ever allow anyone to change you - being yourself is the way to win.
Always be who you are and stand for what you believe in,
speak your mind, help those with no voice and be comfortable in your own skin.

Dear future daughter...
Cherish the little things,
all the beautiful gifts life brings,
you'll soon realise that they were the things that mattered
once the moment has passed - but it's too late - I'm sure you gathered.

Dear future daughter...
These are the things I wish I'd been taught,
Instead I learned the hard way - a life marked by fraught.

You treated me just like a cigarette
and thus became my biggest regret.
You ignited my soul beyond anything I’ve ever experienced before,
but then you gained everything you ever wanted; so you ****** the life out of me more and more,
and then you reached the end and finally you happily threw me away and left me to burn out on the floor.

A complicated virtue and misunderstood,
trust is overlooked by many - which is no good.
We emotionally invest into the hands of others deeper and deeper;
unknowing of whether they are capable of being a secret keeper.
Our worlds can come tumbling down with just one betrayal,
and once it's gone? It's lost forever - something that cannot prevail.

Hunger brings about the finest euphoria throughout my brain;
the control and power I feel is addictive – something I must maintain.
Waiting to be weightless; stopping at nothing to become thin -
the cruel voice in my head rips me into pieces from within.

Like a child
I need to be protected from the monsters that only I can see
Like a child
I need to be held closely when all my nightmares come to be.
Like a child
I need to believe in everything and to be believed in too
Like a child
I need someone to be my comfort blanket so I can make it through
Like a child
I need to be told I'm loved and cared about every day
Like a child
I must be reminded that everything is going to be okay.

I stare at the veins so prominent on my wrists –
think of the sea of blood rushing through my body with lots of twists.
The cold metal blade I am twirling in my hand
screams to be used to cut open and release the ocean of red – I don’t quite understand
why I want to bleed out and become a sinking ship or consent myself to die.
This desolation has me wrapped around its finger and the monster of destruction I must abide by.

Her words are boa constrictors causing detrimental suffering and sometimes even death,
with her victims crying themselves to sleep every night, hyperventilating with every breath.
Her raining punches feeling like a thousand needles piercing their flesh time and time again,
her victims wonder why they get up each morning just to suffer the same pain.
Her poisonous taunts run through their bloodstreams and haunt their minds;
and lead some to scar their bodies and others to perish entirely leaving their family behind.

And we all like to compare the past with the here and now,
but there are only certain memories that we will allow.
Like how “remarkable” our childhoods used to be,
compared to adulthood now where “everything has turned to debris”.
As in a state of reminiscence we remember things in the most positive light
and in the greatest form so our memories of the past shine bright.
But we forget that nostalgia is a deceiver to you and me,
because nothing was ever as good as we like to remember them to be.

A little girl rises from the wreckage that used to be her childhood;
her eyes have lost their fervour and instead reflect the despair from where she is stood.
She is the broken and the messy with so many cracks within her soul,
and no-one can help her out of the ashes or make her feel whole.

Now she’s a dead flower; wilting with her colours fading;
instead her head is filled with parasites that keep invading.
Hidden from the sun, she’s never been able to grow;
instead she’s left to slowly die in the dark shadow.

She ran as fast as her brittle legs would allow
without catching her breath once as she ran miles somehow.
And she reached her favourite bench overlooking the countryside
surrounded by swaying trees and an air of grace as she sat and cried.
There's creatures in her mind that won't allow her to think clearly;
the belief she should go beyond the veil plays on her mind severely.
So she swallows a bag of pills washed down with strong tequila,
and stands upon the bench with her earphones in, dancing like a ballerina.

How sad it is that “all good things must come to an end”,
the idea that moments happen and then cease to exist is difficult to comprehend.
So go outdoors and watch the sunset, go to the beach and watch the tide recede,
sit down with your favourite book and begin to re-read,
take these evanescent moments and turn them to wonderful memories,
with a heart full of belief and reverie.
All safe in the knowledge that the circle of life will return once more,
in future fleeting moments, when we need it most; and knowing once again you will soar.

Waves o' despondency hit me harder than ever before;
I drown; yet it leaves a burning ember of which I crave more.
Addicted to the deliration and despair that comes o' so naturally -
a new found love for the darkness that lives within me.