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Taking a step back to look at things
isn’t always enough;
steps are small, shuffles on pavement,
scuffed shoes moved inches -
they only look a bit smaller.

When hearts skip beats like bass drums
a step is not enough;
but what’s the difference between
stepping back
and
walking away?
4/365
she only smokes when it's rained;
too anxious to drop ashes on dry ground
like the world will burn up behind her.
charcoal footprints follow
the cloud of smoke that is her body -
roaring fire tongue that spits embers
to sizzle in puddles.
flame-ridden girl too afraid of herself
so she smothers her words until they're ash
flicked from a cigarette.
3/365 poems for 2018.
The other day
we strung up fairy lights for New Year's,
popped prosecco because we're too cheap for champagne,
kissed under confetti with glitter on our lips.

It's been grey since then,
the after party is never as good as the real thing.
2/365
"One is the loneliest number,"
but I like being alone - sometimes.
I don't like being home alone,
too jumpy for complete solitude,
would prefer to spend time with someone
when we're in separate rooms because
distant sounds of life are more comforting
than no sounds at all.

Music is good at filling in the gaps,
it twists up the stairs and under doors
until the house bursts (into song).
It's like colours for your ears,
not quite your housemate coughing downstairs,
but it fits in with being alone
being alone fits in with music
being alone doesn't fit in with people.
yesterday's poem. 1/365.
after brushing,
i put my fingers on each tooth
and try to move them one by one.
maybe, i think, i'm going through
childhood once again
in order to re-learn myself,
and the constant headaches just mean
that my new personality is teething.
i think about seeing myself shrink back
and become what i am in my head --
a scared child,
lost in a supermarket,
too-bright lights high in the air
making it feel like a hospital room,
reverting me back to my initial state.
1224

Like Trains of Cars on Tracks of Plush
I hear the level Bee—
A Jar across the Flowers goes
Their Velvet Masonry—

Withstands until the sweet Assault
Their Chivalry consumes—
While He, victorious tilts away
To vanquish other Blooms.
two litre bottles of wine,
one bottle of port
two high juices
and christmas crackers.
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