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.

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 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?

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.

Faraway echos and the hum of flies
are like distant lullabies
of a childhood I had almost forgotten.
A childhood written by Charlotte
on an icy blue morning like this one.
How very special is it
to start holding the earth in her eyes
in mine like sapphire raindrops
that dream and cry as humans do.
My breath dances in the fog
as if it was weaving a wordy web
and I smile in my silent ease, it's a
moonlight I remember from years ago.
A charm I still can't fathom
but I want it to stay for the rest of my life.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Eleven January's
And I'm still starving
Health seems appetising
and I look it
but beneath the bark
I'm skin and bone

Eleven January's
Walking through the thickness of it
In May i will be exhausted
And camp out in forest December
Where it's too warm to jog
I'll take it easy till Christmas

Eleven January's
Of what now?
I'm big again
There's so little space
All I can do is trick it
And hope it expands

Eleven January's
And the hunger hasn't stopped
The hunger to be wanted
The hunger to be loved
The hunger to be held
The hunger to be dead

Eleven January's
More and I'll go mad
If I'm not six feet under
I'll be six feet in width
Ashamed either way
So I'll just wait and see

Eleven January's
Of hot chocolate to herbal tea
It's the way it always goes
But the stories intertwine
And I believe every lie
Because it makes me feel high

Eleven January's
Of shelly beaches
Townie roads
The promenade stretches
Further than I
As I drift like a glint

Eleven January's
I am a fat smog sleeping on the job
There's no time to wallow
I take my last swallow
That's it, I'm never doing this again
Then let's go feast somewhere

Eleven January's
And I haven't seen you
I haven't shrunk 
Not thin enough
For you to take me seriously
To want me

Eleven January's
I hurt myself for nothing
My heart is small and slow beating
hanging on by a locket
Who needs weights in their pockets
When they don't kick but break the bucket

Eleven January's
How long doesn't matter
It's the damage you do
And it's not you
It's January
So far for me, it's eleven

Sometimes I feel like Esma.
How she hugs the air,
It’s caftan arms somehow
hugging her back.
There’s a safe sentiment to it.
You rely on the sun
the way that she relies on Novalie,
she isn’t there yet Esma
isn’t as alone as they all think.
And sometimes she leaks
into my window with the streaks
of light that remind me
I’m still alive.

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.

Cow print hats, white horses
We stand face to face with them
Two against two

They have us tricked
And suddenly we’re three
Racing into the skyline

She’s got a gun, she’s got a gun
She’s gonna **** me, no different to usual
Still who’s the paragon, which is poison

Gut instinct is hard to go on
Stuffing my face with Burger King
This and the puppet show

Are too intriguing for me to pick
And when I do
I’m stuck with one in the next room.

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?

She cradled the stars before she died, she lured them in like she did with me. Pale landscapes, darkened hands, this is what she did, this is what she loved.

She investigated the way the love of her life moved like a tendril
that didn’t have the same devotion or patience that poured like finger ink.

She had no time, she didn’t understand her crescent moon mind and so paved away the thick red lines, as if the madness would vanish.

But the madness in her clotted like a hazardous playground,
all she wanted was to be loved in return by the one she called her saviour.

She was forever quizzical; ”why are you like this?” She would ask. Knowing she had seen her love freaking out on the bathroom floor just the day before.

She tried to control the flow but there was a barrier between abnormal and well. It didn’t stop her from craving a kiss but the kiss was stale, it was dead.

She deserved someone who wasn’t evasive. Not a curer but a good conscience that wouldn’t even help undo; just indulge in the sodden and non sodden parts.

And if she had’ve let me, I would’ve liked to be that person. I could’ve done anything to see the untroubled moments and the realisation that she is worthy of this.

And when I come to think about it, she really does suit death. One day I’ll be dead too, maybe I’ll see her linking arms with it, telling it a joke. Yeah. I like that.

I need something to believe
that aren’t my own odes
and ideas that are like snails
not reaching the end.
The alignment of your thoughts
make me feel wiser,
pick me your clementines
and primrose, pink stargazers.
You call it lunacy,
there’s a luminosity to you;
I want you to give it to me
and I think you do
when I’m talking with you.

My mind is a clementine.
It's freshly squeezed
and it's guts are everywhere.
I tread over the peels
but keep slipping on the intestines.
The stringy bits hang me up
by my ears and I jump around
like a patient under shock treatment.
It's sunset all the time, never day,
never night, just stuck between madness
and catatonic tendencies.
I'm always here and can't get out
of the orange waltz.

It's a series of technical difficulties,
my mind is tuning itself.
But I never turned the radio on,
I don't want to hear the talking anymore.
The only clever idea it comes up with
is to blow myself up so I can
BECOME part of the sunset.
Whatever I do, it'll be messy, it is in there.
Maybe it'll learn not to
call me a mars struck alien and
make me butcher myself up like I'm
mouldy and unworthy of saving.
I've gone off and my mind is thriving off it.

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.

My dream turned to sudden death - 
Thousands of feet in the air,
I was without a seat, without a hope
Just me in the sky with no diamonds.
 
My wings detonated to blow flowers
All scathed and wished away
I was an eagle no more
and so I returned to a sleep of angel's land.

A hundred dreams more
I’ve weaned myself off the fear
Runway’s like a dissipating cloud but **** it, no one’s died yet.

Not many people get to watch the clouds
Never mind be above them
I just hope they’re not in my way when I’m no longer up in space.

On this chilling eve
my psyche is numb.
It is never concrete;
the haze plays along.

You are not the martyr here
waited to get well,
what is your situation now?
I hope it’s not as bad as it seems.
Anything for happiness
don’t forget what you’re worth.
It is all dependant on
how you see yourself
and if it’s in the way I see you.

The shard overlooking my flat
Is a protector who vowed
to keep me starry eyed
As the night got quiet but not too quiet
I was at war at what it should be like.
It didn’t exactly feel safe but it was home
And now I’m not home.
I miss blending in with those who thought I was too tame and shy,
Striding through the traffic like a butterfly
On edge but excited.
Struggling artist, mannequins, rushing, drowning, dying, staying anyway.
It’s what I hungered for and I took it away
All because I’m alone
I didn’t know what to do…
And now villanelle’s bridge, my balcony, keyboard, the man near the sign of hope who looked like a rockstar…
it’s all close by but gone
My shattered shard in bits.

You leeched me away from myself
When I’d just walked away from a blade.
The evidence was disappearing…
Now it’s back with a vengeance.

Half sight is half understanding.
I sat on your floor and ate your promises.
Recognised the soul tie
From my thousandth year of research.

I was out for blood…
Yours was running from a tap.
Lapping it up, it fuelled me with melody
Till I couldn’t breathe

Couldn’t see
Couldn’t speak
Choked out but’s
Having believed your presence was love.

Clarinets, harps, cellos
Delicate fingers on delicate strings
Snapping any moment
I want to be rough, want to be heard
My tongue is stolen, hands in my heart
Living there temporarily
While me, floating outside of my body,
Go from flat to flat
Man to man, woman to woman
Lesson to lesson
As I don’t know what to learn
And working is too disastrous for all concerned
I sing to ease the pain
I play to cure my brain.

Our eyes capered on the skyline
Stretched arms out of the car
It was supernatural to us
with its circle of magic
Is that what it was like to fly?

I stood in a snow globe
of winter wonderland stars
It hugged the happy in me
like it was protecting a baby - then avalanche - goodbye

Labyrinth of shallies
all tangerine and peach
etched a path of crystal stones
gold if you were lucky
This was home of the fireflies

They led me to the beach cafe
And the club of cabaret
Where indigo lights taught me to really dance, a coryphee
The steps I still have memorised

Then I saw the sea's sage, regurgitation
Animals couldn't be collected in buckets like shells
And although childhood dreams stay with me

The kid in me has died.

Suddenly the subway isn’t imaginary

You’re starting to understand me.

I put your muted words in a safe place

One I won’t speak of to anyone else.

Even I don’t know where

As long as I never lose them.

I’ll keep dying my hair while you die for the music

And when the time comes, I’ll ask

Is this the feeling in which we’ve been searching?

I don’t even know your star sign. But sure.

You’ll reply.

You make me feel less alone

You keep me getting on the train.

Speeding back to argue with you

To put you in your place.

Say my name as a goodbye

After ghostly anecdotes.

Dumb analogy’s

That have me bringing my knees to my chin.

Hugging myself, imagining it’s you

But you’re not imaginary.

Space boy.

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.

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.

How am I how I am
when she is so angry?
I wake up, hear the tension.
Can you feel the tension?
I am speaking it,
she can’t help but to
weave it through my own
mouth, it’s invasive.

I am not her.
I am the cry when she shouts
though little by little
I stand up taller and walk out.
If you are like me,
if your mum is like mine,
you are not her.
I am not her and you are not her.

Her heart rumbles
I could take her out for dinner
Same thing, same flavours
I’m in her taste buds
Licking her stains clean
Sipping lemonade, nibbling her skin’s pain
We’re feeding like vampires
Junkies, cannibals.

Her curves are mûrren
My chest burns at her slopes
The quiet drops
Of eyes, lights, breaths, death, heart, art
Fresh water fountains, her goldfish tongue
Coursing down my throat
Lucerne lift forever, grey hair together
Until the last rain of her beloved fall.

Valentine years ambushed
You cupped my neck with a blade
As long as this jagged bridge you love now.
Even with the **** forming
I licked at it like monochrome cat
And well, the butterflies turned to bats
Radioactive and forcing me to retreat…
Slink into the night I came from.
You go back to yours, unashamed
But I’m at my absolute limit
Loving to dying to hexing to not caring
******* hell.
Now I’m writing that poem you wanted so badly - a retaliation to the machete
Hanging out of my throat
Because if I suddenly lose my invisibility powers, no gouging of me will be as horrifying as what I have to scream to you.

I wish I had medications
So my pain didn’t come out in excuses.
Everybody’s shy but me?
I wanna die.

No one understands complexities until they reach for a thousand years
Deeper, deeper and deeper still
And even then I don’t get a sympathetic ear.

Benzos: I learnt the name from a book
Not from the mouth of a doctor I saw a few times until the receptionist said
“You’re here AGAIN?”

My mum didn’t see the traits
Of every illness that clogged my body like arsenic… good job I couldn’t get hold of a lighter like everybody else could.

I’ve spun around my world so many times
At my big age I should know how to balance
But I still feel so weak
As if my legs will give way

Any. Second. Now.

I wish I could pop a pill
Line them up in little boxes
Save myself from drunkenness to mask the stuttering and shame

You KNOW the only way to prove I want to die…

I don't understand anyone's reasoning when they pull this ****
Stay friends for six years or more,
Seven the luckiest but dumped in ****, especially in knowing
This is supposed to be the halfway mark to a forever duo.
Who needs a duo when you have a million chavs, million euro credit cards you don't offer to the poor
Dying for parties, dying for fun
Dying for a piece of your love.

More than a question about exams isn't too much to ask for, is it?
Support your business, congratulate you on the sixth kid you'll never look after yourself,
Maybe the seventh'll be more blessed
If it isn't born from a cheated partner, the one you fell out with me for.
Okay lack of morals, shove it up your emotionless *** of our memories
For I won't be licking it anymore.

I was street dove eyed
Another sleepless passenger
When the war between the lighthouse and the smog began.

Chimneys
dating back to Victorian times
Shipped their bakery smells to the salt and grease

The colossal banks of them
Victorious in their pursuit to have me step foot into
West Yorkshire's bell jar.

I scoured the trees for spider monkeys, clinging to the backs of their vampire boys
An alabastrine, dazzling climb

Which furthered my trek to the hardcastle crags;
The medieval houses cheering me on in their church pew rows.

Where the hill went up and up and up, so much that the bus was about to tip - on the edge of the world I was.

The twilight town, still green from September, and to think I was drafted to fight for the sea
When Hebden Bridge is where I want to be.

Everything is circles,
I sit here for nothing.
Someone waved at me on a bus,
Maybe it’s you.
But anyone can be a shadow.
Didn’t realise I was near Leicester Square
Everything’s connected
Like veins, like bones in blood
I definitely feel lost in blood.
Concentrating on the unnamed protagonist’s year of relaxation -
How can you be in New York and just want to sleep?
I guess I get it, I’ve felt similar in London
But somehow I always end up dazed tying my laces, out too early or too late
In a trance on the tube.
Chatted up by guys who I say I have a smile of 1000 stars, who add me as
“Professional reader” in their phones.
I would’ve gone to Camden with the last one if I wasn’t waiting for you.
If I didn’t enjoy looking at pigeons,
The back pain, embarrassment.
Not caring how it goes,
I’d probably do it again, just be smarter.
Just like with life, my raven night.

She doesn't know it but her face will be on show for years to come
Her voice a siren, not for war but for rights.
The flames will become a sunset
But the ashes are still there
And back then they rained on her skin
An endless reminder of who she is
Confusion, uncertainty, worry
A tongueless woman in a swarm of male noise
Until her red lips move, her blue eyes match the aqua of the sky
After the darkness has cleared
Resolution near

I stand at the cupboard door
Open, close, open, close.
I shed tears,
As shameful as that is,
And bare a hole in my stomach
Though I ate seconds before.
The sad thing is
Is that I keep it down,
I do nothing when I'm done
And I rinse myself of it
I say tomorrow will be different...
Then the gaping comet growls
large in my chest
My belly and my head
One special treat and it'll subside.
Nothing will save me now.
By thirty I'll have consumed it all
I'll be able no longer.
One side of the galaxy is the same as the other - they both die in the same cruel manner.

Eyes are enigmatic
Yet reserved, keeping their distance.
They can spot the nervousness
And devour it
Like they haven’t eaten in days.
It wouldn’t be hard to imagine
Too lost on the motorbikes
That fill this Tabard garden
Just like my anxiousness fills me
When I’m trying to just float through it.

I'm doing it again
Flying my flag of inspiration seeker.
It gives me headaches of wild proportion but I keep going
Like those who starve me; like the sunset that swallows me whole
So I can have tea with the moon.
It's definitely worth going to sleep with a new work at hand
Rebranded, branded a fool when capitalist men exist
I'll weave poetry in the five senses till I collapse
Dying by the feet of bland brains; monotonous colours of consumed or not consumed enough days.

Once I cried at the thought of a man
Forcing himself inside of me.
I was scared of the night owls
Breaking my locks, draining me of blood,
I imagined dying.
And when the time did come to be crushed, I felt myself start to snap.
Everything about him was too large to the point I refused to let him touch my leg
Never mind let him do what he really wanted to do.

I led him on.
I led them all on.
I resigned to softer features,
Those who'd understand the dolling up, the shirt covered stomach
The endless closure of my eyes they couldn't stare at themselves in.
Of course that never came to fruition but now
I'm so sick of myself I feel nauseous come nighttime.
Lost in the darkness until I fall asleep in a huff.

Maybe I should've let him do it.
Same with the man who
Squeezed me like a clementine
Thinking he was shooting me up, a rocket in his pocket.
Only I was shooting up to forget how he made me feel like a corpse.
To my friends I expressed this and ran into a taxi...
Only for him to slap the shame of being a lesbian back into me.
If I said it didn't lead me to consider trading my body with stardom I'd be lying.

If someone saw me the way I see myself in bed
I think I'd want to be with me too.
This is the slaughter of the lost girl
I’m printing it on the skin of the new girl - the not easy but free girl
Who's sexuality has nothing to do with damage already done.
Deep is the depths of the lengths I’m going to to celebrate this
In the darkest realms possible.
The care dripping from my nerves.

On first glance,
I wondered how such a beautiful girl could be a poet.
You were what I feared...

I didn't wanna see another clone.  

Then I learnt you bleach your hair
With my mum's leftover snowdrops
To extenuate the curves;
The Venus face I recognise so well,

Cause what I see in you,
I don't see in me even though
I brag we share features
Same particles of the mind

Same wet breaths took.

You're really pretty cool
As I keep saying to those who'll listen to my stanzas and stanzas
Of the stars you saw that night and realised you were real

At least you don't feel like a figment of my imagination
This time it's raw, carefree yet caring so much you wanna combust

And it doesn't make you any less beautiful

Me neither for that matter.

What a shift from what I used to think about girls of confidence.

Now that I feel it myself, I feel found by someone I could love forever
The fragments coming together to make one thing.

A thousand more glances.

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.

Cheshire monkey
Is talking in his sleep.
The ramblings of an old man
Comes alive in the dark.

He wraps his floppy arms
And ***** smile around each nightmare that finds me
Like a helter skelter anthropoid.

Amnesia becomes him
As he forgets paddling pools,
By the ears on the washing line
And strawberry puke.

He jumped from vine to vine,
Lily pads of the Avenue
Just to get back to the pushchair that left him in the cold.

Watched from Butlins windows,
Happy to see the adventurer in me
When I take him from place to bewildering place.

Breathes whimsical words,
Amour propre,
Everything that makes him the best friend I ever had.

Ghosts brush their fingers on ours
As if we wouldn’t notice
As if we wouldn’t be scared.
Sometimes I feel like I’m one of them
Or their enemy - robotic
Flashing, slurring, whizzing around
I have no heart to feel hurt with.

When he acted like I had killed him on purpose, I cried
I cried for what could’ve been, for the piano keys, for the honeybees.
He said he likes to torture me, I wonder if it’s real
A pretty man’s need to be seen….
With these fragmented eyes I cannot see.

Estranging

The sky is purple
And all I can do is think about how loud I was about you.
It’s raining but it’s humid
The page glowing, my heart growing
Piano and guitar signalling
That this isn’t gonna draw to a close
Any time soon.

The planes make their noise
Its passengers having no clue
About the girl beneath them
With her phone torch on as the light fades
Lilac to bluebell chemtrails
Lilacs to hell and betrayal
Not from you but from the elastic roads and estranging moon.

Sapphire tears bleed from my eyes
I look up, I look up, I look up
Searching for a hideout in the sky
To no constellations
Just the empty float floor tonight.
Nostalgia is prised open -
There's no chances to share dances
But on these rare occasions
I feel future latch onto my hand
And so I cry, happy, drunken.

I daydreamed on the subway
Through the screeching sounds
Of the metal on the metal.
I think about how fast it goes
How slow my days are when I don’t get on it.
I’m not very productive either way
But I like the sun on my back
And the rush of chameleon people.
Everything is industrial
Everything is lilacs on canals
It’s definitely something to keep on dreaming about, keep on dreaming about
Living in the clouds

The fairy times
We flap our arms like wings
We take off
Like the plane of other worlds
The plane that gives my ears pain.

Dreams I only dream here
Beds don’t give me imagination
Don’t make my legs shake
I read about snakes, tattoos of snakes,
Speaking of snakes back home

I admit I’ve never seen mountains before
The lift to the clouds
Is another dream but less pointless
It suits me, it engulfs me
It has me for breakfast left out on the road

It’s a walk in heaven
Bends, mends to my heart
Looking for the roots of my imprisonment
I find myself growing with the lilacs
Out of the belly of the cow.

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.

They say a staring contest conjures up love
But what if I can’t stare?
What if my eyes are too wonky, too glossy with teardrops
Brought on by simple gusts of wind and a shudder to my soul?
What if those two minutes it apparently takes to fall in love isn’t enough for someone to look past that?

I got asked too many questions when I was a child and didn’t understand
To a university car park where I was asked about the elephant in the room.
I didn’t realise it was so obvious and so I only approached men in the dark
Because they don’t analyse me like women do but still - the dark.

In job interviews, family interrogations, friends I’ve known for years, shops, dog walks, red haired singers I’ve met
I don’t give eye contact
What do you mean I have to look at the whole of their face and not just the eyes?
I must’ve looked like I wanted to **** the blue, green, amber out of them like the undead.

I think I would worry less about this with a vampire.
They use their teeth to communicate rather than castigation…
The living are too focused on the rules of colourless conversation
When the staring contest dies, their attention dies.

What?