There is a quiet whisper
in the corner of my mind
it speaks to me on dark days
when the sunlight I can't find

It speaks of secret hatred
wrapped up in friendship's ruse
and though I try to fight it
my will it soon subdues.

I struggle in my silence
hiding all behind my smile
no emotion breaks the surface
as I tell the world "I'm Fine"

There is a quiet whisper
growing quickly to a scream
as I weave a noose of secrets
bringing end to foolish dreams.

Stop talking to me about love
As if no one else has ever found it
Stop boasting about your angels wings
And how they lift you higher than the Sun
When I know only wax, old rope and the memory of flight
Just tumble down into the dark blue and be done
Enough of your heart
Lighter than air
When mine is a magnet
Pulled by the Earth’s core
Spare me your sweet breath
While I wait for others to exhale

Give me a man with a beard and tattoos
a passion for books and a love of the blues,
a sharp sense of humour, his outlook carefree
and a belly that jiggles, no six packs for me. 

Give me a man who can't help but sing,
who sees beauty in raindrops and other such things,
one that laughs at my faults and excites at my plans
one that's proud to tell everyone that he's my man.

Then I'll give him a woman that smiles oh so proudly
and proclaims love undying from rooftops, quite loudly
I'd take care of him as he takes care of me
a happier duo you never will see.

Send him my way tightly wrapped in a bow,
I'll handle with care and unwrap nice and slow
this gift from the heavens sent here from above,
then I'll drag him upstairs and near **** him with love.

I'm reading your words in my hospital bed
Either laughing or crying at all that is said
I must look quite crazy as my mind is lead
through a hundred emotions poured out from your head.
The nurses are pretty, they keep me well watered
The plaster is some kind of cruel itching torture
the weights on a pully hoist my broken leg
forbidding escape from my blue sheeted bed.
So I wink at the nurses and turn on the charm
I smile at them sweetly as they take my arm
this won't hurt a bit, just a scratch.. so I tell her
she can hurt what she likes if she kisses it better.
She raises her eyebrows and then starts to laugh
as I discuss my need for another spongebath
the colour it rises and forms in her cheeks
You can't blame me for trying, I'm stuck here for weeks!

There are no pictures of the forgotten child
just second hand memories
of a police station handmedown
and too many mothers.

There are no echoes of my smile to be found in family albums

No book to lovingly hold the dates of firsts unwitnessed by love.

Yellowed paper bears witness to my existence, a name given, typed above that of an unknown Father and a mother too new to bear my needs.

There are no tales of first days and birthdays, no tears of joy at my arrival, nor at my loss.
Just me, a girl with no past and a stolen future, screaming at shadows while clutching at straws, hoping that someday my face will be reflected by that which I did not create.

She has a smile like a winter sun,
you want to warm yourself in it all day and miss it at night.

The sound of her voice,
is like a summers breeze rolling over the plains

Eyes like the old oak tree,
bearing wounds where young love have plagued it

Slap on a pair of shorts and an old shirt,
then you will get the picture of a farm girl ready to work.

Put her in a night evening dress and make up,
then you will have the head turner that all men wish for.

Slip off the dress,
then … well, you only wish to be the one in front of her

Bring the life storms,
as long as she is my mine and I can bathe in her smile,

Come floods of tears,
as long as I can be safe in the old oak tree

Come cold nights,
as long as I have a breeze to look forward to.