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May 2020 · 119
Chlorine Faced
Abby May 2020
I wish you were chlorine faced
and force fed the ocean
the way I was given your slander.
To feel the oxygen inside of you
rupture like kicked in teeth
and centuries of creating a family name
sinking to the seabed all because
I looked at you the wrong way.
On a moody day like today
we should be happy to be alive together.
But we're too messed up and
can't confess it.
May 2020 · 94
Dead Sympathy
Abby May 2020
What we manifest
is something so dishonest
and i hate to say it
but i stopped loving you.
All of the birthdays
have faded to dispersive
greying clouds and unsaid
words but never hate.
Just dead sympathy for
the kind things you didn't say
while you were still alive.
See, I finally got the words out.
And they will still want me
to be upset. I'm not but I am.
I'm still. Just still.
May 2020 · 121
Before Morning Was Mundane
Abby May 2020
Morning crept up on me
but my mind was still asleep.
I used to be wild
then i lost a few teeth along
the way to another sleep.
My little anorexic arms
reimagined what morning
used to be like
before morning was mundane.
May 2020 · 44
Hallucinate
Abby May 2020
Like I said before, I'm scared.
I'm so so scared and I can't help
but miss the yellow skies and daffodils
that i used to see every day.
Now I think I just hallucinate it.
I'm so exhausted. I'm tired of this.
Maybe this is a cry for help
and maybe you won't hear me
until my chest gives out.
When my dreams of knowing what
everybody thinks of me appear
and i can't imagine you'll care that much.
May 2020 · 58
Daytime Lullaby
Abby May 2020
A summery sensation frees me,
i lay my head upon the bed
of forgotten nighttime terrors
and it blooms into a rare happiness.
Here it only ever happens;
gratitude for the solitude.
It appears like a daytime lullaby
and it's all because of you.
Apr 2020 · 108
Compelled
Abby Apr 2020
Tonight she compelled me -
i could no longer run.
Those said features of delicacy
hit me, punched me, killed me.
So violent that it was perfect
and i just stood still
because she was perfect too.
I can’t believe I wrote a poem about killing eve
Apr 2020 · 79
Chilling Eve
Abby Apr 2020
On this chilling eve
my psyche is numb.
It is never concrete;
the haze plays along.
Derealisation disorder be like :))
Apr 2020 · 43
Slow Afternoon
Abby Apr 2020
I’m the childhood friend
who you’ll never speak to again
and the time waster on
really really slow afternoons.
Six months down the line
and we’re still postponed, why?

Life has been one slow afternoon
and you still ask "why"?
when I tell you how lonely I am.
I would be happy for you
for getting your ******* together.
Not at the expense of leaving me behind.

...why?
Sorry for posting so many poems recently (even though I know this is literally a poetry site lol). Some I wrote ages ago and because of lockdown I’ve been writing a lot. Thank you so much for the kind comments and likes though, I appreciate it so much as I’m really ******* myself when it comes to writing😭🥺 hope everyone is staying safe and positive ❤️
Apr 2020 · 55
In Front Of Strangers
Abby Apr 2020
I’m swirling the thoughts around,
wishing it was some nutrient
but all I get is no conclusions.
I listen to the playlists I made for
other people who wouldn’t give me
the time of day that I need.
That I quietly beg for but only
to myself because it would be weird
to do it in front of strangers.
Apr 2020 · 112
Am I Cured?
Abby Apr 2020
I guess that Paula, my counsellor,
had decided that I had been trapped in her fishnet tights for too long.
I had outgrown the Doc Marten boots and exercise colouring books.
And when I peered through the window,
i saw her sitting across from a girl around my own age.
They were doing a colouring exercise and I wondered,
did I pass the disease down onto her?
Is that how it works, am I cured?
Apr 2020 · 107
Cherries
Abby Apr 2020
Cherries blowing up like dark red balloons
and bursting with confetti at house parties.
Sweet sixteenth's and eager eighteens,
underage girls dressed up as barbies.
You see, it's all about numbers.
Like the amount of calories in a cheeseburger
or how many nappies for the baby, soon to outnumber.
Lies and excuses for short term friends
when family know how it's destined to end.
But isn't that the latest trend?
The cost of the newest labels to gain some popularity,
girls these days just need some clarity.
Chasing boys for love, though it's just a quick blow,
see those lips pucker up for a lifeless photo.
Apr 2020 · 106
Dead Roses
Abby Apr 2020
Wilted, dead roses.
Red velvet turned into dust.
Fake poses, filtered for comfort.
A life filled with lust.

Trampled on roses,
breaking at the touch.
Love loses every time,
shaking with fear and a blush.

Clouds drift against scarred wrists,
Lines and lines of never ending twists.
Paper people holding hands,
Sitting quietly in a plastic land.

Fingers brushing past
but never interlocking.
Their stems too scared to stand,
ignorant minds throbbing.

This town is garden
of weak petals.
Their creases dripping with blood,
people drowning in the mud.

We are living in a crumpled
up piece of paper.
Eyes thundering with vicious jealousy,
up to no good.
Apr 2020 · 125
My Dear, Dear Karen
Abby Apr 2020
My dear, dear Karen,
only selfishly appreciated
and gorgeously barren.
This is my ode to you,
the angel i awaited
in the daydream we live in
with dahlia hearts
and the everlasting blue.
Apr 2020 · 86
The Dog
Abby Apr 2020
I was butter in his mouth
but I felt like cement.
Lady, there's a dog in your house
and it's teeth are bent.
Apr 2020 · 88
No Harm
Abby Apr 2020
I wrote a poem about my body,
it's everseeking refuge in me.
No harm has come to pass,
there was a time i ached for that
and in a way I still do.
I'm always thinking of you.
Apr 2020 · 99
Lonely Like Lazuli
Abby Apr 2020
Lonely like Lazuli,
i haven't been
how i used to be.
Not been inspired
like i should be.
Not been loving
like you want me to be.

Lonely like Lazuli,
i lay in a pool of sapphires,
and i know i could
be much better.
I am something more
than sad eyes
and poetic suicide.
Apr 2020 · 45
Solitaire
Abby Apr 2020
Cold feet in the lamplight,
wooden floor, cat prints.
Cola stained teeth scrape
to the bottom of the gin glass.
The taste of alcohol is too sickly.

Creature of the night,
blankets, locks on the door.
Crumbs on a plate start
to look like the content faces of
people who are never lonely.
Apr 2020 · 38
Red Lipstick
Abby Apr 2020
Clack clack clack;
She marched like a renegade,
Parting her lips with
a promiscuous smack.
denim sleeves upright,
Signs in the air;
Afraid of men and allowed
To speak highly of feminism -
Somehow.

She rallied her army
To prepare for attack:
No wallflowers, all pretty,
But they do not 
matter. They never did.
She was a queen of
roses, cut off their petals.
I was a sunflower but
I liked her nastiness.

Red lipstick and the cruel
slam of brunette curls,
I saw an insecure shadow
painted in crimson
perusing closely behind.
As our eyes passed,
the red lipstick smudged;
became tainted like it
had all just been a vision.
Somehow.
Apr 2020 · 61
Inspired By The Night
Abby Apr 2020
New ideas, writing lists,
inspired by the night.
The stillness of it all in
beautifully dimmed lights.
Sparked loving affections,
fists grabbing my pillow
in silent excite at the kisses.
Soft breathing, romantic words.
Thoughts of reckless outings,
too afraid to do real bad stuff.
More uncontrollable laughter
at silly stories, muffled cries.
Sneaking downstairs for drinks,
hands connected to the wall.
Sitting on the cold floor,
numb but content.
Apr 2020 · 73
Angelically Dead
Abby Apr 2020
This is a letter to myself
about someone else.
Her soul is a part of mine,
those strange moments
when her presence
shines in me
like a chiming bell.
Such a calming parallel;
both a hoping poet.

I don't like to know that
she was this afraid.
Dancing in the night,
a hundred treds,
more weight to shed.
Anyone can be angelical
but still gauntly dead
and I'm slightly dead
but if I go, what do I have
to leave behind?

I asked if she wanted to
hang out some time
and in my distress
I was a baby again.
She kept holding me.
But my sadness didn't fall asleep,
my bones became ...
too weak to leave.
Angelic women don't eat
so why should I?

We are prone to
upholding an image -
it makes me sick.
But the familiar feels safe
so I convince myself
I'm just anaemic.
You can see there's something
there behind our eyes
and we're not as
pretty as we seem.
There's something wrong
and it cries.
Apr 2020 · 54
In April
Abby Apr 2020
There's so many simmering pastures,
please stop the bristled fingers
that infiltrate my body like pretty
splinters making bruises and
tearing my hopes apart
as if they're just some book.
I've been naive in the past 
but now I know not to trust you.
Tomorrow always fades away
with greying moon dust.
Apr 2020 · 118
Phosephenes
Abby Apr 2020
Phosephenes in daylight
confuse me to the point of no return,
I don't know what it takes
to love another person.
My friend got an invite to a party
but the doppelgängers didn't let me in.
Forget the effleurage,
from now on I'll look after myself.
They're sending out carnations,
I felt a pinch from the other side.
The leaving me mantra begins,
would I still be a burden if I died?
Selcouth childhood,
I don't want to be a bother.
I've been keeping secrets,
even from my chosen mother.
I'm on the usual night shift,
black shadows elevate and I'm gone.
An actress with a new role,
I stand there while they poke their fun.
Rage stays hidden,
various unhealthy patterns
invade my bloodstream.
Then bats and devils part their ways
to aggravate my self esteem.
Apr 2020 · 119
This Sweet Meadow
Abby Apr 2020
I dig myself deeper
every ambient night.
I'm unaware,
disguised as summer light.
This sweet meadow,
It lost its charm when i
Conjured evening shadows,
my sadness in flight.
Apr 2020 · 136
Homesick Hydrangea
Abby Apr 2020
A homesick hydrangea,
sapphire as a bluebird,
navy like a day
that turns into a sourly sea.
Who I used to be is in another timeline
way across the tides,
indigo and conscientious
of what I left behind.

In Sylvia Plath,
I find a similarity in our solitude
There's rainy weather opposing
misty blue violet glooms
and all of the landscapes
no longer bloom for me.
They contradict the hope
growing upon the seaside.

I even astound myself
with my clear disinterest.
With each iris eye,
I forget the ones I hold dearest.
Even in sleep, my perceptions are
a skewed crescent
of a story untold,
kept in myself so close
yet so distant.
Apr 2020 · 99
Daffodils
Abby Apr 2020
Shiny red apples are cuddled tightly by the leaves,  
Tag you're it and hide and seek went on for days.
Secrets told and wishes unleashed
On a rusty swing set stained with memories.

Chaos and noise consume the house,
Mud dripping from our dainty size one shoes
As she fills up the jug with water
And sprinkles it like sugar over the daffodils.

Plant pots are kept outside in the garden,
They look up and smile with their little green faces.
Perhaps they are her other grandchildren,
Although they can't remember the stories she always told.

Silver silk slips through my fingers like fairy dust,
The pink duvet is a sugarcoated blanket of safeness
In a world so full of witches casting evil spells
And creating vigorous snow storms.

Exquisite jewellery glittering from the bedside table,
Her makeup and perfumes excite ten year old me
As I sit at her mirror, pretending to be like her.
A woman with inspiring dreams and a heart of wonder.
Apr 2020 · 155
Her Name Was Christine
Abby Apr 2020
The essence of her
in the early moonlight
swayed like a blow flower
in my hindsight.
When she was there,
my artwork became real.
The air was gentle,
her name was Christine.

She ******* her boat
and left it by the south pier.
I undid the rope -
sunlight filtered out here.
Her hand was my lifeguard,
though when I awoke,
within a distant star
came the morning smoke.
Dec 2019 · 143
When Midnight Struck
Abby Dec 2019
He only wanted to talk once
you were held captive by the dark.
When midnight struck, he had you.
His smoke circle eyes scanned
your red and blue body as if
it was a police interrogation.
You were young and in love.
What could possibly be wrong?

He only wanted to apologise once
morning escaped from it's chains.
When the scars become visible,
it was red roses and dinner dates.
Purple bruises, another excuse,
accident prone yet still in love.
The stars came out to watch
as you took off your clothes again.
Dec 2019 · 164
Is It Meant To Be?
Abby Dec 2019
When I squeeze out the contents like I'm a citrus reamer
Are the heavy notions of death meant to be?
According to the book I cut my apples into eights
Will someone tell me how long my death will take?

I wait to be transparently flat like the morning sun.
Is it meant to be when I'm still as fat as an out of date plum?
My life was meant to be pulled away a long time ago
But the hoover broke and so never cleansed me of kilos.

Is it meant to be that I will forever breathe the air of my house?
The sickening fumes often feel like family when starvation has clout.
It's common knowledge that a girl leads you, tells you how.
The only thing I have is a pen and a useless body now.
Dec 2019 · 160
Goldfish
Abby Dec 2019
What it would be like to live in the sea -
Endless nothingness.

My spine tingled as i thought
of echoes from far away,
never close enough to harm me.

I’m the richest in rock bottom,
penny gold, the orange attraction.

I’m not afraid to be a silver dame,
alone with my scales flaking away.
Isn’t the ocean my sanctuary?
Jan 2019 · 229
Tying ribbon
Abby Jan 2019
Lines are drawn across pitted skin,
She pulls her claws in, tying ribbon.
Mouth sewn tight so I can't speak,
I slide my wrists upon the sink.
My feelings are transparent;
This pain endured is like heaven.
She tells me that I deserve it,
And so I make another slit.
Jan 2019 · 745
Slower and slower
Abby Jan 2019
Life is being ****** out of me.
I can feel it as my lungs become
too heavy for me to hold and
my heart gets slower and slower.
My mouth turns to a dry cave,
A desolate place which my stomach hates.
No warmth can coax my fingers
To curl around any little mug.
They’ve lost all hope of ever
being so cosy again as I keep
Walking down this endless street.
Though my steps are getting
Slower and slower and slower.
Every largening crack in my spine
Tingle when I lay on a hard surface.
I wonder why I do this to myself.
Then I remember and force a
smile so ****** convincing that I
unknowingly manipulate myself.
I breathe in as to stop the dizzy spell,
the light goes dimmed, i stumble.
"Are you okay?" They seem to ask.
I will be okay. I’m always okay.
But the seconds it takes to get back
on my feet are getting slower
and slower and slower.
Nov 2018 · 213
Seventeen birthdays
Abby Nov 2018
For seventeen birthdays,
fake tears in the bedroom.
Soaked pillows covered by
Scented candles in the living room.
Emotional piano over sounds
little girls shouldn’t have to hear.

For seventeen birthdays,
secret crying showers.
Leftover cake, feeling sorry.
bathroom blood, guilty of a crime.
writing slam poems about mum,
right under her nose.

For seventeen birthdays,
Sweet money. Lies to keep quiet.
Cracks in gulps of *****,
wall punches, hospital trips.
Homeless over a holding hand.
Hopeless. Looking for a mother.
Oct 2018 · 178
Did you hear it?
Abby Oct 2018
Did you hear it?
That soft whisper.
A brush through of hair,
Hands on your shoulder.

Did you see it?
Those deep grey eyes,
Searching for you.
Lonely, desperate,
And they seem to be lost.

Did you find it?
Your English book,
These words are more important
Than the ones I try to say.
My breath shortens.

Did you realise it?
That I am here, I exist.
Probably not.
So I guess I’ll just go.
Sep 2018 · 94
Disney Films
Abby Sep 2018
Disney Films and Nickelodeon were always on the television.
Millions of cushions laid upon,
Watching high school musical and dreaming of love.
Wishing that I could be Thumbelina
While the boy I liked was Prince Cornelius.

The cat was my only friend,
Though he still dug his sharp claws into my skin
And I couldn't blame my special teddy for hating me
As I left him all spit-covered and stinky.
But where were you when the chocolate milkshake started tasting bitter?
Where were you when I covered my pain with animal stickers?
Where were you to heal the cat's scratches with plasters?
Where were you when I wrote my goodbye letters?

While my cousins played outside climbing trees,
I sat by myself on the grass picking daisies,
Hoping to God that soon it would be time to leave
Because you were acting up and everyone could see.
Was alcohol more important than me?
Sleepovers where we would eat sugar dough
And throw squeaky toys for the dog.
Making friends with kids on club penguin,
Trading Pokémon cards and talking throughout the night,
Trying on false nails for the first time -
They all became hard to bear
As all we could do was stare at you
Giving your drink yet another stir,
Now insert the awkward slurs.

You didn't see when the blisters on my ankles swelled up
And in school I was doing well but to you, I was never quite good enough.
Poetry and songs were written to escape
from those who gave me ***** looks
But when I showed you, you just didn't give a ****.
Girls would laugh at me because I wasn't like them
And boys sniggered when I walked past because I had no *** appeal.
All I wanted was to find my Prince Charming
But I didn't want to dress up like a Barbie.
I admit that a Wotsits and spaghetti diet is unhealthy
But ***** for dinner every night, really?
You ignored my cries for help so I stopped caring about myself.
Is that how it's supposed to be?
Is alcohol more important than me?

I never told you that I actually like girls too
Because I knew you wouldn't care
Or you'd never look at me in the same way again.
Where were you to play with my hair like other mum's do?
Where were you to teach me the basics
Like one add one equals two?
Even though I was your only child,
It felt like nothing was mine.
And in this house, one add one equals two.
But where were you to hold me when I would cry?
To say that this place is a home would be the biggest lie ever told.
I relied on other people to protect me against you; The Cold.
And now you are the one to fold up my clothes.
Will you be there to love me now that I am gone?
Sep 2018 · 1.3k
Pluto
Abby Sep 2018
Bejewelled in time and space, surrounded by stars
That have sprinkled the sky with questions and reasoning.

Sitting on the moon trying to remember things
And recollect memories that have dissolved into alien dust.

Eyes as wide as the universe and ears as open as the sea
But if we have a conversation, I'm sorry if I don't take it in.

And if the words fly over my head like meteors,
don’t tell me my corrupted spaceship is too lost in your wavelength.

The aqua lines are troubling, burning lasers that zap my
entire kingdom to tiny particles. It’s a supernova of forgetfulness, don’t you remember?

Wandering aimlessly across the core of the earth,
I feel like a drunken chemical gas,
Spinning around on gravity drugs,
Joining hands with life from another dimension.

Floating around, I'm the human form of Pluto.
A planet too small and insignificant to be seen or heard of.
Abby Sep 2018
me and you; we were built like a house.
not perfectly built but could still
withstand all of these blazing tempests
that came uninvited in the intense
darkness that we shared.

we buried ourselves in a crypt;
ethereal to the public eye,
masks were the soil for us to smother
fond flames towards ghouls.
To exhale with you was the best
kind of rarity to divine.

midnight prowls to your attic,
untold by ripped pages of desire;
we soon reached our extremity.
time made us hostages to echolalia
and i wrote a list of everything
you've burnt.
Sep 2018 · 60
Girls On Television
Abby Sep 2018
They're everywhere.
Girls on television with Hepburn bodies to fit into the margins of magazines, page 3.
Miasmic necks like giraffes to chase scenes as if they're paparazzi with their wine
and ritzy bones.

Suffocated in lip fillers,
It's a surprise no one has burst their silicone bodies,
zeppelins pop, emits poses for a new slattern orbit.

They're articulate;
put thought into every word,
sentences like lines of crystal virtue on lavish vinyls,
another dumb blonde for the
headlines - head space of naive youth.

Hand jobs to antagonise,
i agonise over crimson nails
liberating ***** with cuts of scarlet joy in rapture -
welcome to our modern culture.

They're infatuated with;
lucent screens set eyes aglow
to highlighted cheeks disguised as moons, an unearthly cult called, "mystic aliens of media control".

No. romance is dead,
it only exists in movies that star
******* Angelina Jolie.
Being adored is prone to vanity;
role models get to giggle,
play chaste to be bijou in the arms of Zeus,
while i act as chimera.
Abby Sep 2018
Slow dance with me through the apocalypse of space,
in which our words are mercurial.
toxicity is fed to my lungs
by your homemade oxygen,
as if my face of candere
is truly reaching out it’s hands
to find serenity in
swirls of mahogany tables.
and you are just looking for
a lost fluidity of soul.
transform yourself into calico;
so i can create a lucid dream
just. once. more.

let’s fuse up like aurora Borealis,
expand our cryptic galaxies
so all eyes can be on us.
radiate with acidic moon rays
when the incense rises;
already set for retrograde.
"Let’s explore satori".
you said. "but what if
your oxygen is cataclysmic?"
i whispered in a hushed tone.
being the antagonist
was bizarre to me at first.
but then i replied,
"i guess somewhere
is better than nowhere.
because i found you
when i couldn’t find myself".
Aug 2018 · 266
happy girlfriend day
Abby Aug 2018
happy girlfriend day
to beige coloured pages,
kept smooth and delicate;
like fingers turning light switches
so nobody else can see your elegance.

happy girlfriend day
to pale, bruising knees in the sun,
noticing how the symmetric lines
are the only ones who smile
when we are in silence and the romance is done.

happy girlfriend day
to the ones who can't hold a tune
but sweet talk their way through a poem on stage.
hugging our final goodbyes at the end of June,
dedicate your first book to me, think of us in every page.

happy girlfriend day
to twenty eight years of loving;
only tracing the skin that shines,
not the part of that is secretly longing,
I’ll never get to call you mine.
A poem about a girl who was never even my girlfriend, I just happened to write a love poem on national girlfriend day.
Aug 2018 · 400
The Luminosity
Abby Aug 2018
You were an unlocated island
Inhabited within palm trees aligned
To cast the hazy dreams I see today
When I think about when I didn't know you.
The travellers who sailed across the roseate desert
Never thought to discover what was glowing
Like tangerine torches to lead me back into the light.
When I was given the map,
The luminosity was so defying
to how I wanted to love you,
That I wrapped myself in lurid shadows
As if they were velvety serapes
Because I was so fond of the midnight dusk.

You longed for a taste of another species
While I clung to the jungle vines that replicate my own.
Euphoric lava bottled up inside of me,
I couldn't tell you how your twisted words
Made my brain fizz like it was filled with lemonade.
As if the romantic poetry was seaweed
That you tied around every corner of the boat
I needed to pull me towards the shore
Like peonies groping their arms across my land
To steal whatever skin I had left to give.
I longed for you to unwrap the reef
And touch each and every fruit I grew for you.
But you'd already destroyed our rainforest
When your lips got tangled in someone else's mouth.
Though, I still want to go to the island.

— The End —