Let me tell you what loving you feels like.
Like I'm a snail, like you're salt.
Like I fell into you and now I want to bubble and die.

Some people say that they will give you the world!
Forgetting the world exists inside of your head,
with every sense, behind our eyes we create the universe...

Silken shirt slides over bare shoulders, my soul rests upon my skin.
Secrets lay between my thighs and you eat them as if they taste of truth.
A quickening pulse, shaking hands. My body language hides words in the hollows of my neck,
but your tongue can't decode the difference between ******* and falling.

Dear hope,
Sometimes I lay on the bed and I swear you give me the softest pillows, the warmest blankets, the most beautiful sleep.
I wake up some mornings and you’re the only thing that gets me out of bed, and sure I get mad when I burn my toast but, you give me half a loaf and say ‘hey, try again’
Some days I will grip your hand like a vulnerable child clings to his mother while they cross the road.
I will let you mother me when my mother is in hospital, I will let you father me because my father never showed me protection.
Some days I will let you whisper stories of how things will be into my ear like chocolate cascading down a waterfall in a shop I can’t afford to step in.
But lately being with you is like walking through a graveyard after the caretaker has gone home and the last leaf of autumn has fallen to wither and die.
These ghosts are following me, settling in the coffin that is my stomach. They leave their words on my lips for me to lick when I am starving.
I have a new friend now, He’s called lonely, he’s an ******* but he won’t disappoint me and it’s always cold where he takes me.
I need some consistency, with you Hope, you leave me empty, like I’ve already died but there’s a 60 year wait for a spot in the cemetery.

And in death we long for life....

I've been trying to write a poem about you,
because even sad poetry is beautiful.
But, you've got my tongue tied as well my hands.
So now I'm just sad.

I want to fall in love with you!
Not because I love you,
I love the idea of you,

I want to fall in love with you.
Loving you distracts me from not loving myself.
I want to fall in love with you, to send this writers block to hell...

My fingers itch, pacing, they dream of controlling the pen.
My tongue flicks impatiently, waiting for the words to roll off.
My heart beats to give my soul music to dance too.

...But somehow, I can't write you...

Your eyes, mirrors that reflect my every flaw in perfect light.
Your hands, a glue to hold me together when my shattered shards shiver
Your arms, a majestic Oak, to hold me close and cover me with a childhood hope and wonderment.

...But somehow, I can't write you...

Your heart, an unattainable magic not to be held by porous people like me.
Your legs, tall towers which block the sun from ever kissing my skin
Your stomach, a graveyard of hope from all the lovers that went before me

...But somehow, I can't write you...

The arrow of times says we must move forward,
                                                                Everything must end.
                                                                                 Order must become chaos!

Some days I avoid the water.
I avoid it because I'm crippled by fear that I may not see you once more.
If I was never to see you again, I'd never forgive myself.
I'd never forgive myself for washing away all I had left of you.

The silence is getting heavier,
I struggle to breathe under its weight.
My skin holds on tightly to the marks you left when you loved me.
Because these marks are all I'll ever have of you.

My thoughts are filled with 'Eskimo kisses', entwined fingers, the peace of your presence.
But your heart is cold in your bed made of empty promises and false hope...

My notebook is filled with squiggles and lines,
A franctic search for words to define,
The chaos in my head, I scream, I pine,
For a soul to unlock this mental prison of mine.

I've been trying to write you a poem.
But words fail to paint pictures of my vulnerability.
So I pray that you can read between the lines.
Invite you to open Mic sessions under the sheets.
Let you caress the words that are etched on my skin.
The scars of my bare flesh speak more than the songs of angels.
Still, I fear that to you this is just ***, and to me, this is my confession!

You are the lover that I never loved. A possessive, obsessive, controlling type. Your darkness wraps around my body, clawing at the scraps of hope I hold in clenched fists!
Monochromatic grey, your melancholy walls talk to me in my sleep.
The sand of time is carried on their breath, hourglasses shattered all over my skin!

My freedom cowers in the shadows of this cell, my dignity malnourished under the bed.
This isolation is more than I can stand, whilst the devil and god rage within my mind.
Waterfalls cascade down my face into oceans that lay at my feet.
Water levels rise, still salty tears can’t sterilize my eyes from the sins they’ve seen.

I pulled out my rib and carved a dove; through prison bars she flies…    Upon her return, my leaves of green, a letter in her mouth.
Paper with dotted lines and instructions to ‘fold here’
An origami boat of hope, with ores made from words of a friend.

In bold defiance, on the starboard side, words that shimmer in the sun.
Like a pool of water in the dessert or paracetamol to a headache.
I’ll hide in the decks made of paper and let the waves wash over me. Your walls crumble in a Tsunamis rage and my ‘Avoidance of Doubt’ shimmers on…

My reclamations lay in the corner: your old hoodie, a book, my memories  resting upon the shelf of youth, collecting dust.
I paw at them as if this was a game, as if I'm waiting in the jungle until someone rolls a 5 or an eight.  
As if jumangi was more than TV crews and cameras.
I drag my finger over the book, leather bound and gold laced pages.
I etch your name in the dust because it's sweeter than any childhood fantasy.
My pregnant mind bulges with a  love that's more fierce than a thousand fire-breathing dragons.
I created a cottage out of pieces of our history,  hidden memories lurk like dwarves.
I wrap myself inside your clothes, fragrance like poisoned Apple's, I breath you in.
I could dream of you for eternity as I accept my "sleeping death".

Fluorescent lights absorbing.
My glass cage surrounding.
Smart phones and silenced minds.
To strangers WiFi connection binds.
Likes substitutes compliments and comments conversation.
I turn myself inside out for empty validation.
Cyberspace is like a vacuum, they can't hear you scream.
Forced smiles, you lie and hide behind pixelated screens.

"Don’t meet anyone offline”* I say “They're all weirdos”
Though I’ve been a serial dater and frequent Tinderer for some time.
I couldn’t tell you the number of lips mine have pushed up against.
Nor could I tell you the names of the people they were attached too.

There’s been nice guys and bad boys and girlie girls and “show me your *** toys?”
There have been casual hook ups and dates, movie nights and lets be mates.
There have been people who have felt more at home in my skin than I do
There has been a little bit of everything, and a whole lot of nothing at all!

You.
You were an echo that shock my world.
I, an explorer gasping in awe of your beauty.
You, an avalanche to trap me here forever.
Your roaring resounds in my ears, words cascading down my self confidence.
You’re rocks, tumbling away from me.
A Hollywood classic, a thriller, a thrill seeking adventure, a true story…
Me, a disaster, a ‘warning: cliff edge’ sign, a fatality waiting to happen.
For I am incomplete without you, and erosion got to ‘us’ first..

We reap what we sow, so I’m put my trowel down.
I have hay fever, and your pollen is notoriously high.

I love wholeheartedly, an obsessive, head-spinning kind of love.
You were taking, taking and taken I was by you.
You **** the marrow from my bones to indulge your already overweight frame.

Now I am left with nothing.
                                                  No body. No soul.
No warm hands to cradle my clattering bones.
My lungs have leaked their last meaningless breath.

I love whole-heartedly, an obsessive, head-spinning kind of love.
So I fixed all your woes, brought you back to good health.
And you're out in the world, never ceasing, your light it grows.
I lay here in your shadows, no love left for myself!

Sometimes I fear for how long my sanity has left.
How long will my dreams shield me from reality?

For months I've beeen trying to write you.
To fold my emotions together like origami.
I'd make you a boat so that you can escape.

I'd bleed an ocean of ink from my pen.
Tides and waves, velvety rich and blue.
A grand sail of metaphores would carry you through an ocean of my desires, my ideals.

But, I realized that I was lost in translation.
My hands cant craft to catch your beauty.
I've lost myself in paper chains, a strength of love untold.

Your chains hit the bottom a year ago, they sway in stangnant waters.
Chain links made of memories Bob lifelessly in the water.
They stay around a centre point, gently knocking my shrivled skin.
A blank face drowning in the inky sea, I'll stay to an anchor what was.
With time these memories will bury me.

I can't have you by my own admission.
You're bad for me.

Like a ****** addict, I'm desperate.

Every poem a frenzied attempt to restrain my tounge.

Because my words are associated now.

I like you = warning. I love you = run!

But I'm addicted to you. I'd give anything just to smell you on my skin.
To wait in your bed for you to come home.

Apathy grows on me, insidious vines wrap around my limbs and cover my mouth till I can't breathe.
You're here with me, in this bleak, meloncholic abyss.
The ghost of you wrapping weak arms around my waist, sends dusty butterflies fluttering.
Promises that slipped from your mouth still dangle all over my room and I'm hanging off your every word.

I know you're gone, you're a million miles from here.
But in my dreams you still sleep safely by my side...
...and I still wake up at 3am to whisper I Love you to the ghost on your side of the bed...

And even when we kiss.
Even when our bodies are entwined.
Even when I'm biting the pillows to refrain from calling his name.

The butterflies won't flutter like they do when I see your face...

This is not a poem, you've filled my head with silence.
My body is filled with the shadows of a girl who once lived here.
My eyes, dust laden like the window ledges of this broken home.
I tried, but my tears dried to leave oceans in my shoes.

I thought you were safe, under the dirt, 6ft under.
I'd left you there in my graveyard of suppressed memories.
I nailed your hands to the cross of everything I can never have.
Resurrected. Three days grace. You're haunting me.

You asked me to keep you safe, so I dug a shelter in my heart.
You could fit within me perfectly and I’d carry you until the end.
You weaved a blanket of my warmth, and pulled it round you tightly.
To protect you from the storm, your last goodbye blew in on..

If you're afraid of past tense,
                           Don't let time pass....

I never wanted to be everything to everyone.
I just wanted to be something to someone...

I listen to my gut instinct, but it tells me a lot.
I need to hear your words, before my insides rot!

I think I'm tired of waiting for you.
You've had me on my tip-toes for months.
You push, push, push, Stop. Pull.
Your poetic bravado is vacant, admit it, you're dull.

The hunt and chase is part of your fun.
A domesticated kitten, if I play dead, you run.
You never let me get to where your fingers can't reach.
I'm not what you want, lessons you don't need to teach.

We've reached the final lines, one last emotional out pour.
I'll wear my game face, this is how it feels to want more...

Who is the 'you' that singers sing too?
The 'you' that sends poets diving through vast oceans for poetic pearls?

You're the rain on windows late at night, natures own lullaby.
You're the sun rays in which I bask, you make me feel alive.

You is a collective term.
An indistinguishable figure, a faceless being.
'You' are a silent understanding. Universal.

You hold the promise pleasure and pain of all the bodied 'you's that tarnished your name.
'You' are the silence we scream because the world talks to loud to hear us.

'You' are the nameless, holding up all the 'me's' that aren't strong enough to say this.
'You' are the silence we crave when to speak their names can only pain us.

I am watching myself in the future, nestled safe in memories.
I try to love myself whole-heartedly.
So, when future me lays alone. Lonely.
She can wander through treasured memories and know someone loved me!

life is monstrous, savage and cold.
My heart; a ticking time-bomb waiting to get old.
Frantic whispers in my head "no time left, no time left "
Time is an ambush predator, agile and adept.
Lost in an abyss, only glimpses of far away stars, out of reach.

                                                        U­P into the vacuum I screech.
                                                   Up
                                             up
Internal pressures build
This panic is meaningless, soon, existence will be obsolete.

I'll bunker down in a fortress of distraction, and pull the blanket over my head.
I'll make a mansion of books, where fantasy filled delusions pacify my dread.
I'll cling to Lifes' bared teeth as I'm shaken side to side.
In time, time will release its predatory grip, let me live this life of mine.

I waited for you, again.
I told myself that you’re not coming, that you didn’t mean anything you said.
I was right, yet, here I am waiting for you.
I tell myself you're like a cat, that I can love you ferociously with all my heart.
But, I keep forgetting to listen when I say I can only love you from a far…

Mother, I know that you’re close to me.

Summer floods my heart and bathes my skin. Glistening, gleaming, glowing. You made me with stardust, elements of a universe I could never comprehend. From beauty so mesmerizing that to sit in silence is impossible. A sea which flows deep within my stomach, swells and with force washes every life-giving cell within my body. So much beauty I can’t sit nor stand as the water  rushes to head my head and trickles out my eyes to produce a single tear.
         Halted.
As if the cold harshness of the world pulled the plug with such force that the water simply fell from me. Hollow, empty, sinking.

Mother, I know that you hear me.
United by a language, only 4 letters long. Hidden, universal, the alphabet connects us all. Like a golden silken rope, a hope, binds us together. From pigs in pens, fruits on the tree, entangles humanity and it connects to me! From the genepool you made us, gave us chance to grow, evolution pulling strings like a puppeteers show. But we spat that back at you, exploited, your body lay cold as your ***** once again for your oil and coal.

Mother, I know you see me.
Dawn brings with it the purest of hours. Time allows us to talk, to stop, like old friends in a coffee shop, letting themselves droop into the dancefloor of the steam, encircling there heads like the ghosts of lost dreams. It’s the calm before the storm, your bitter cold nestles into me to seek the warmth that you had made. If I could Id take you in my arms and protect you from all that I can not fix. I’d aim my words like weapons into the hearts of your tormentors, your children. With my pen id scrape the plaque residing within there souls and we’d stop this, look after you as our own. But as hairs stand on end, my frail frame shivers, our fleeting moment slips away. It is silently understood that I too am broken. Your tears fall, cascading down the tarmac scars etched across your body. With you I cry, my clothes wet through as if to bear your pain is the only hand I can offer you to hold.

Mother, I am sorry.
Sorry for the eyes that stare back at you from behind that bars of their intensive homes. Their bodies a prison, destined to be the marinated centerpiece, a symbol of status for another desperate housewife, barely breathing through the contraption that fits her in loaned clothes.

I’m sorry I can’t finish what I’ve started. The last words should offer you comfort if not solution, but how can the answers slip from the chaotic mind of the broken-hearted. The truth is we all have nails in our hands, and what it means to be human has been lost to the cross that we all bare. Lonely, despair. We fight the tides of society, its judgments, expectations, racial discrimination, oppression, victim blaming. We try to keep sailing. But what we fail to see is that we’re failing and the only hope of this changing lies within the broken fragments of our humanity.

You crept upon me so slowly,
like a parasitic wasp you paralyze me.
Your growing maggots of nothingness made my stomach a home.
My soul a nutritious feast; my body a mindless drone.

I hear an hourglass shatter and time falls over my head.
Grains of sand sting like lead-weight reminders.
My time is fleeting.
Apathy comes to bed with me, protects me when loneliness bites.
Because life is out of the question when existence leaves you with 'mights'.