Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
3.1k · Aug 2013
short story: the end
PROLOGUE
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I should say something. No. This is the easiest way… the right way to say goodbye. Who am I kidding? This is definitely not the right way to say goodbye. I twist my key in the door; it’s always been a ****** to lock. After I manage it, I turn and set off down my street. The Parcel sitting in my crossed arms. I feel calm today. Unusually calm. I can’t figure out if it’s because it was my birthday yesterday and I am now 17, because it’s my favourite weather (sunny with a slight breeze) or because in 24 hours, I won’t be here to feel it anymore. I try to look confident as I walk into the post office. Non-suspicious. I don’t want the post-office lady thinking I look suicidal, breaking into my parcel, then calling the loony-bin and throwing me in there. “No-one cares enough to do that” I remind myself under my breath. I jump when the bell goes off as I open the door. ****. I forgot about that. Luckily, there is no-one at the counter to see my little moment that I am sure made me look more than on-edge, and I have to hit the bell twice before the short, wispy haired woman pops her head around the corner, followed by her unhealthily-large body. I place the parcel on the counter and tell her I need it delivered first class, so that it reaches where I need it to first thing tomorrow morning. I’ve only ever been in here once before; to post a letter to my brother’s primary school, pretending to be my Mum allowing him a day off school. I was full of excitement that day, making all of these plans in my head for what we would do on our ‘adventure day’. I can’t make any plans today. After the woman has taken my parcel, I turn and walk back out the door, taking note of the bell again. I realise that this may be one of the last noticeable sounds I hear.


LETTER 1
Ok, so you’ve seen the return name and address on this envelope, so you know who this is from and you are probably definitely wondering why I’ve sent you this… So before you read on, let me explain. I’m writing to you because we aren’t very close, and you can listen and understand what I have to say, without being objective to anything. You don’t know me very well, but I know you. I’ve watched you in class and seen how you are and the way you do things, and it inspires (sorry) inspired me. I don’t mean to be blunt, but everyone knows about what happened to you… well, yeah... But, I just want to ask, how did you deal with that? How did you manage to stay so strong even at the worst of times? I couldn’t, and my problems shouldn’t have even been in the same district of pain as yours. I wish I could have come to you earlier... I know you will be thinking that. ‘Why ask me this now that it’s too late?’ but I made my decision a long time ago and I just wanted you to know all of this, even now that you can’t answer me any of it. You see, things just got too much. And I know people say that all the time. But I really can’t handle being inside my head anymore. It’s hard to make sense of anything at all, everything is just so confusing. It’s like, I have the sense in my head that is telling me what is logical and right, but it is completely drowned out by all the other **** that tells me otherwise. And I can’t do it anymore. I’m so sick of being confused and miserable. I just want to die. And by the time you read this letter, I will have done.
The thought of suicide first entered my head about two years ago now. It was always more of a back-of-the-mind thought, never a solid plan; until a couple of months ago. That was when I decided it needed to be done. But timing was hard to plan. I knew that whenever I did it, it would rip my family apart, but I don’t want to talk about that too much in this letter. It’s not something I need to bore you with the details on. Basically, I’ve been procrastinating to try and make it easier on my family. Yes that’s naïve. I know. But not a lot of my thoughts are too rational at the moment. Ha. I guess since I decided, things have been a little easier in some ways… everyday things. The things I hate, I just keep thinking, another month and I’ll never have to face this again. I’ll be gone. But, it did make some things harder. My family trying to make plans with me for some point in the future, for example. I’ve just ended up with a huge reluctance to make any plans; to give anyone hope but it’s so hard and it’s breaking my heart to do that. I can’t bring myself to tell my little brother I won’t be able to make his football matches anymore, or see him start high school. It’s just that the idea of death is just so… relieving I guess. I’ll never have to experience confusion or hurt or misery again. But that comes at the price of giving up anything else. I decided it was worth that price a long time ago.
Sorry for going on about things that you probably don’t actually have any interest in. I don’t mean that in a malicious way, I just mean, genuinely, you don’t know me that well so why would you want to know the details behind my suicide? I just needed someone to tell the complete truth to, someone that it wasn’t going to hurt.
Anyway, I need you to do me a huge favour. In the package you found this letter, you’ll find 4 more, each in separate envelopes. They are named, addressed and stamped, and all I need you to do is post them for me. I’m sure you’ll be pretty confused to why I couldn’t have posted them myself, but the thing is, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I trust you. Which leads to my next point, I trust that you won’t read the letters, but I want to ask you not to, just in case.
Thanks for listening; I hope it doesn’t take too long for my spot to be replaced in class… That has to be a little morbid. Ha.


LETTER 2
Hey buddy. I know you’re gonna be really confused right about now… And probably pretty angry with me for leaving you. But it’s gonna be ok little man, I promise it is. Before I do any explaining, I need you to promise me you’ll look after Mum and Dad, at least for a while. Things are gonna be pretty tough for a bit, but you’re gonna be the little hero of the house and you need to keep joking and laughing just like you do now. Give Mum and Dad a reason to smile, ok? For me. I don’t want to ever find out that you’ve changed. Not in the slightest. You’ve always made me smile, even when I’ve been sad, and now you need to do the same for Mum and Dad.
So, I’ll try explaining. You see, as people get older, things get very stressful. And some people, like you, are little tanks and can work your way through those stresses. But I’m not one of those people. And I’m so sorry. I’ve just been really sad for quite a long time now, and I want you to always remember that I’ll be happier up in heaven. I know how selfish that is, leaving everyone just so I’m happy, but as you get older I’m sure you’ll start to understand. But please just remember that I haven’t disappeared, I’m just up in the clouds now, and I’m gonna be watching down on you and looking after you still. No-one is ever gonna mess with my brother and get away with it, ok?
Do you remember that time I picked you up from school and I wasn’t in my uniform so you knew I’d been skiving? And you could tell by my face that I’d been crying so you just hugged me and told me not to worry because you wouldn’t tell Mum and Dad I’d skipped school. And then we went for ice cream and I chased you round the park. I was thinking about that earlier today. You’ve always been able to make me laugh, and make things feel better. You’re such a strong little man, and I’ve never seen anything hurt you. So I hope you can stay strong for me now.
You’re my little hero, and I hope you can forgive me one day. I’m so sorry buddy.
I’ll always be here, and love you.
Your big sis x


LETTER 3
Hey Dad. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I know I’ve left you with probably the biggest job of them all. It’s gonna fall on you to look after everyone now and I know that’s going to make this even harder for you. I’ve always looked up to you y’know? Even with all the times you embarrassed, or to phrase it better, completely and totally humiliated me. Like when you first met my boyfriend and you practically interrogated him. Jesus, I was not impressed. But all in all, you’ve always been the more laid back parent; i.e. the one that let me have a little more to drink than I should have at 14. So than-you for having fun with me, and I’m sorry for throwing it back in your face like this.
You deserve an explanation. I can’t narrow it down to any specific events, but I really haven’t been happy Dad. I’ve tried so hard to ignore it, or to solve it. But the thing is, it’s been so confusing trying to figure out what was wrong with me… And so tiring. And I don’t want to do it anymore. I just want to rest and be at peace. You have no idea how hard it is to say goodbye, but I need to do it; for me. I’m so sorry for lying to you, and for acting like everything was ok. But I need you to not blame yourself in the slightest. You have made me so happy, so often. Our jokes and the times we have spent together mean so much to me… and you need to know that none of that was ever faked. I want you to remember me as the happy, lively daughter I was. Please. You have made things a lot easier for me and I just wish I could feel like that all the time. It’s when I’m alone that I can’t cope. I wish I could explain it to you better than that, but I can’t even get the thoughts straight in my head, never mind write them down. So I’m sorry for that, too.
I didn’t suffer any pain. You need to know that, too. It was about a month ago I decided to use pills. I did my research and completely knew what I was doing, and trust me, I was in no pain. I chose pills because it would leave me looking relatively normal, and I could do it at home, where I felt the safest. I don’t know who found me, but I want you to give them my greatest apologies. I can’t even imagine… I know these are not the things you want to be hearing, but they are things I need to tell you. I decided when I was gonna do it about 2 months ago. It was one night after I got home from school, before anyone was in. I thought about how easy it would be to just do it then and there, but Mums birthday was coming up, and mine was only 2 months away, so I decided to wait. I think it was in a vague attempt to make it easier on you guys, and to get my birthday out of the way first. At least I would be 17 then, and I suppose I thought a news story of a girl committing suicide at 16 sounded a little melodramatic, so I waited.
And I’m so glad I did. I’ve had the best times with you in these last couple of months. Mums birthday was fantastic; it was so nice having everyone together, but so hard to lie to you all. I’m so sorry. It was a struggle every day to keep going on, but I knew that I wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore if I could just make my ‘deadline’.
Not to put any more pressure on you, but please look after Mum. I’m freaking out about how she is going to deal with this. I can’t explain how horrible and hard this is to write. I feel so guilty. And I can’t deal with it. Just please make sure everyone is ok. I’m just going round in circles here. I know this is going to break your heart Dad, and I’m so, so sorry. I love you so much, and I hope you and Mum can carry on with your lives. Give the little one everything now, and make him the most spoilt, special little boy you can. (Joking, obviously). Ha.
Stay strong for me Daddy; I’ll see you again one day, I’ll always be your little girl x


LETTER 4
Mum. Mummy. I am so sorry I’ve done this to you. It’s heart-breaking writing this letter and this is so surreal knowing this is going to be sent to you. I’m racked with guilt for doing this to you. I love you Mummy, and I always will. You can’t let this ruin a single thing for you ok? You need to get on with your life, and enjoy it. Spoil the little one (as I’ve told Dad; that is a joke) but do make sure he’s as happy as possible.
We’ve always been close, and that’s why this has been so hard to do; to lie to you about. But I had made my decision a while ago; I didn’t want to be here anymore. And I didn’t want to have to deal with you trying to convince me otherwise. I just lost control. I couldn’t keep myself happy, and I relied on other people too much. It wasn’t fair. So I did what was best for me, and for everyone.
You gave me the best send off. My birthday. I was happy that night, for a while at least. And in that time, I almost reconsidered. Almost. But really, I had a great night. I wasn’t expecting anything special; I didn’t think I deserved anything, especially with what I was planning… What I was about to do to you all. But when I opened the door and walked in and you and Dad and the little one and my boyfriend, along with the rest of the family were there, it made me feel happy, and proud to have a family like you. (Speaking of my boyfriend, keep an eye out for him will you? You know how serious we were, and just keep him close by. I want you to all stay close now that I’m gone. You’ll all have your letter, with your little piece of me, and you’ll need each other’s support) Anyway, as I was saying… Acting like everything was gonna be ok that night was hard though. I wanted to tell you so badly that I wasn’t ok, that your baby girl was breaking on the inside. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want help. I just wanted to be gone; at peace, finally. I’m sorry that this is the first you will hear of any of this. I can’t imagine how confused you are.
I have a couple of confessions to make before I go. Remember that time you got a call of school, double-checking a hospital appointment for the little one? And you argued with the school office lady for about half an hour, telling her he was definitely in school that day because I vouched for taking him to school that morning, and picking him up? Yeah, that’s not exactly what happened. Let’s just say, we needed a bit of brother-sister bonding, and I took him out for the day. I forced him into it and it was 100% completely my fault… and if I find out he gets in trouble for this, I will haunt you. Sorry. This isn’t the time for jokes.
I love you so much Mum. I’m trying to keep this letter a little more light-hearted, because if I don’t I’m going to break down, and I can’t risk changing my mind. Not when I’ve got this far and have everything planned out this well. This is happening. And I’ve known that it’s been inevitable for a while now. It has just been a case of timing. I hope I got that right.
Please don’t be too angry with me, or find it in your heart to forgive me one last time? I’m always going to be looking out for you, and everyone else of course, but you especially. You’ve been my guardian angel since the day I was born, and now it’s my turn to be yours. You’ve given me everything you possibly could, and you’ve been the best Mum anyone could be. Never take any blame for this. This is just an issue with me personally. And I’m sorry it has to affect you in the biggest way possible.
I will always love you and need you Mum. And I’ll always be your baby girl. X


LETTER 5
Now then you, this is going to be the hardest of all my letters to write. You’ve always made me happy you know? Not once that I’ve been with you have I wanted to do this, it’s just when I’m alone that it gets me. You have given me the most amazing relationship anyone could have asked for, and I know that I haven’t deserved it in the slightest. That’s made it harder I guess. Because as much as I love you, I know you could do so much better than me… ‘The ****** Up Girl’ as your ‘friends’ like to call me. Thank-you for not listening to them, even if what they were saying is true. You’ve always seen the true side of me, and you’ve known how much I’ve struggled getting by. But I still don’t think you would have ever expected this, and I’m truly sorry for that.
First of all, I want to tell you that, without you, this would have happened months ago. You are the main thing that has kept me going, so you should be so happy with yourself for that. I’ve been considering this for about 2 years now, and it’s just that recently, things have been tough with people at school starting to find out how depressed I am. The things people say are horrible. But I don’t want you to mention that to my family. I don
2.1k · Nov 2015
Lungs
A view of you only these eyes can see,
As lungs do fill and fall, to give and bring,
New life to me, as dreams may hear me sing.
But just for now, enamoured hope runs free.
Two destined paths amalgamate as we,
Plunge into bold, foolhardy happenings.
Le grande cascade. Vintgar. A constant spring,
That never stops sprouting abundantly.

But hurried mornings twist and bend my heart,
To expedite the time I must derail
My consciousness and fall back to the start,
To dreams of distance lost so I can't fail.
To find my thrill, admiring breath, like art;
The rise and fall of life and it's details.
My first sonnet (Petrarchan) so hopefully the form is on point :)
1.5k · Aug 2016
Opia
Not the first, nor hundredth view inside.
Masks forgotten with departed boundaries,
Tied through inner worlds and silenced words;
Stripped. Of everything but a shadowed view of depth.

With this, a fall into bottomless fragility.
A glittering lock of unknown vulnerability;
A naked tether. Souls on show.
An illuminance playing in purity below.

Outlines blurred of who, or what, we are,
With memories brought ashore in tidal waves.
After learning to float, succumb to the intricate sway
Of days spent glimpsing our reality.
1.5k · Jul 2022
Lips 2.0
New words that part my lips are vast and wide
Still sometimes spilling sweetness, shame and spit.
A pattern simply changing with the times,
So I can't say that you're to blame for it.

New insights, clouds, dark lakes where pebbles drop.
Ideas float around that serve me well.
The light with shadow, night with glowing dots.
Sweet intricacies dance while we repel.

I've learned to ebb and flow beside my lungs,
To hold the space, despite the urge to run.
This burning flame needs fuel to elevate,
To learn the lesson. Protect me, I'll wait.
It's been a while! Hello again 🦋
1.5k · Nov 2015
Wordless Poet
Though carefully selected words allow
A slight enlightenment of inner minds
And inner hearts, I'll never truly find
That perfect blend of letters to spell out
Pure sentiments of amour. There's no doubt
Those words do not exist and can't describe
Even a fraction of it all- You're mine.
And just how did that ever come about?

Reflections in your eyes, astonishing;
They never see the inner dark that hides.
Though in my mind it's all that I can bring,
As I can't seem to express any light.
If I could find the perfect words, I'd cling
Forever and you'd heard them every night.
1.4k · Sep 2018
Quietly, Now
Quietly, now,
the words settle in my brain
with softer edges than before.
Shapes your mouth made
piece together, delicately, now
I look for the cause.

Patiently, now,
I hear your voice in pastel tones:
my spectrum blurs the shout.
A storm I only helped grow
settles silently, now
my eyes are on the ground.

Carefully, now,
I keep my own shades pale
enough to match yours.
Words coming out faint,
we sit, quietly, now
I understand the score.
It's his eyes. It must be his eyes. I continue to speculate as I light and take a drag of my cigarette before looking back over to him, peering up through my eyelashes. The scrutiny must be showing in my expression, as he opens his mouth to speak. “What are you thinking about?” His eyebrow raises. That must be it. It always gets me when he does that. No. There's more. So much more.
I realise it has been a matter of seconds since his question, and he is still watching me, expectantly. I need to speak. “You.” Well, it's an honest answer. It's just cutting out the part that makes me sound ******. 'Yes I'm just watching your every move and trying to work out what it is that makes you so beautiful' doesn't quite have the same ring to it. Beautiful is an odd word to use for a guy. Controversial I suppose. But that's definitely the right word for him. He laughs, and moves his cigarette into his lips. I watch closely as he slowly inhales with a look of concentration. I love that look. It's one I've seen painted on his face on numerous occasions; smoking, reading, drawing and whenever he concentrates on anything at all. It's completely accidental, mind you, which makes it that bit more interesting. He looks back over to me. I love it when he does that too... Y'know, looks at me. “And what exactly are you thinking?”. At first I think he is flirting, he must know that I am thinking something perfectly wonderful about him. But he has a look of sincere curiosity (and maybe a hint of worry?) on his face. I begin to question what my expression is, and whether I am achieving the calm and collected look that says 'I'm mysterious and ****', or the 'I'm currently processing a million different thoughts about you and putting full effort into trying to make it seem otherwise' expression. The first would be the better of the two options, however I'm starting to doubt that hope as he laughs again. ****.
So, I give up trying to hide my ******. I turn my body to face his, stretch up onto my toes and wrap the arm that isn't currently occupied by a cigarette around his neck. I pull him down towards me, and pause. “In short, I'm thinking of all the reasons I love you,” He barely gets to smile before we are kissing. As his arms tighten around my back and I get pulled up against him, I realise that this must be it. This feeling. It's funny, trying to describe the feeling you get when that one person that fills up your thoughts, and that you dream of holding like this, wants you close to them. Sort of mind-blowing actually. The kiss is intense, and I'm almost certain that this could lead to something more if we weren't stood in his back garden, fully clothed and freezing. I change my direction of thought.
I should be used to it by now. Kissing him, I mean. But still, it gets me every time. I swear, there isn't a single time he's kissed me that hasn't taken my breath away. I take a second to recover afterward. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me tightly into him. I feel so safe here, protected and secure. I peer up once again, and look at him from a lower angle than before. He has his eyes closed, and from my height, I can see how his eyelashes curve upward. It is this feature, and the shape of his upper lip that I always look at when I'm close to his face and he can't see me looking. They're my favourites. There's something about seeing the tiny details and knowing him this well that make me feel sort of honoured. No-one else gets this, to know him that well. To know how his breathing changes in his sleep or what pattern his heartbeat makes. Which must make me pretty ******* special, right? Yes. That's it. The fact that he lets me see how beautiful he is, makes him beautiful. Because no-one else can feel like this about him, because they don't see any of it. He pulls me out of my sudden realisation by a small kiss on my forehead. I want to get lost in him, and this moment but, with opening my eyes, I realize my cigarette is burning down, fast. I reluctantly wriggle out of his arms, and take another drag. Trying subtly to look good as exhale. Though not subtly enough; he notices. ****. And now, he's looking at me. Really looking at me, as if there is something on his mind. I wonder if this is the same look I have been giving him for the last 4 minutes. I give him a questioning expression.
“I love you”. He states quietly; almost a whisper. I feel... alive. This is another of the things I should be used to. I tend to always feel very overwhelmed when he tells me this fact. I still stand by the fact that he deserves more than little old me. But he won't have any of it. Not that I'm complaining,
We stand, our free hands intertwined, smoking our cigarettes and laughing for another 3 minutes, then flick the remains and turn to face each other again. He pulls me back against him, and kisses me with a little more intensity than last time. After catching our breath, he turns, holding my hands in his, and pulls me towards the door to re-enter his house.
Only now do I allow my thoughts to continue in that direction...
1.4k · Jul 2013
changeling
in ancient times
in hidden places
there lived a tribe
of small green faces
seldom seen by the human eye
these beings in fact were not always kind

a midsummers evening
when the moon was full
though hidden by clouds
the night was rather dull

a traveller walking home
tired and weak
saw a spot by a tree
and took a seat

he closed his eyes
and off he fell
into a world of dreams and secrets
so he could recover well

he dreamt of his daughter
pure and new
how he wished he was with her
and her mother too

but the dream took a twist
with an image too dark
for me to repeat
he awoke with a spark

panic in his blood
and a knot in his chest
he stood to continue
after his interrupted rest

but confusion then filled him
as he looked around
and did not recognise his surroundings
was this where he settled down?

"oh no" he whimpered
but little did he know
this was just the start
of the next few hours of woe

as very close by
not seen by his eye
were the mischievous imps
and faeries side by side

to play was all they wanted
their humour different to ours
ensuring the traveller was lost
would help them in the next few hours

as the traveller was stuck
and couldn't find his was home
which left his wife and child
unprotected; alone

around he paced
but no place he knew was found
though he wouldn't give up
and kept peering around

though at this time
the little green smirks
we're distracted by
the next part of their work

on their way to pick up the baby
a fake left in its place
would anyone notice? maybe

but the traveller grew weaker
and couldn't survive
the faeries fun almost ended
once he had died

i had to say almost
as the mother was left
not to know
that her husband was dead

and that it was not her child
that she watched grow
and we never found out
if she was ever in the know

and the impish beings
were still amused by this
and watched for a while
proud and guiltless

they giggled and laughed
at the mess they'd been making
then flew off to find
a new baby to swap for a changeling
(basically one of the fantasy/folklore extended poems i'm writing to put in a little handmade book with my own illustrations)
1.3k · Feb 2019
Unlearning
There’s nothing worse than a girl desperate for love:

A girl that pities herself enough to think she is so intrinsically broken
she couldn’t even connect with someone biologically destined to love her;
A girl stupid enough to learn that love is a reward that she must earn,
yet frantic enough to always work too hard for it;
A girl that overcompensates. Begs. Forces.
A girl that claims she ‘Doesn’t know what to do with love’
when it comes along, so that, naturally, she can smother it;
A girl who’s biggest fear is abandonment, yet is an expert on expecting too much;
A girl that’s waiting to be saved, but would tell you she doesn’t deserve it;
A girl that still obsesses over ways she has been bruised
when surrounded by people that have helped her heal;
A girl who’s self involved, with no sense of self;
A girl that cries. And cries. And cries.

There’s nothing worse than a girl desperate for love.
1.2k · Jul 2013
you
you
oh, you
you that fills every layer of me
you that stains my skin and heart just by being; you who is a part of me
you who's lips taste like the remains of last nights cigarettes and the transferred aroma of my morning coffee
and oh, those lips that brush my skin, and make my hairs stand on end; and the beat of my heart quicken
and unhealthy it might be, that you leave me unable to sleep, unable to breathe without your sweet company
but that will never cease my desire
you, with your limitless potential; never seen by your own eyes, but
oh my it is there
you that transports me to a new universe entirely by a quick glance

my sunrise; and reason for the sun rising each and every day; for what is the point without beauty for the suns rays to rest upon
my muse; for what is poetry without inspiration
me; for what am i without you

you and your imperfect perfections, of which i could never match; but still i try
and oh, there are some that write better; always use the right words
and think more deeply
but there are none who love more passionately, entirely
than yours, truly
1.1k · Nov 2015
Lips
They part to speak something I cannot hear.
As wandering minds find other senses I,
Notice the smell of cigarettes and try
To restrain thoughts of how you'd taste- like beer?
A pause of expectation sends a shock,
A smile will do, then go on to peruse,
That taunting bottom lip, I'd love to use,
As warmth for mine and what that might unlock.

Quickly compose my mind and converse back.
That drunken night falling for you, I thought,
That senses just don't matter now, they're blank.
Just me and you and feelings I once fought.
Two pairs of lips then touch, and I can't track,
Where one pair ends and where the other starts.
1.1k · Nov 2015
Outline
A shadow of someone I used to be;
Still fit the silhouette but inside fade.
Stuck down here in the darkness I can't see,
The person standing in the light of day.
That girl who loved the world and life the same,
And threw her heart at everyone she knew,
Guess I can just about recall her name.
It seems like who she was just can't break through,
Those walls that minds put up in times of doubt,
And when that's all there is, sunlight can't help.
Blind eyes get desperate finding their way out,
Back to life in this world I might call hell.

A shadow of someone I used to know,
Without the light, one can't begin to grow.
1.1k · Feb 2016
Viewpoint
When thrown into experience we lose
The true condition of the self that proves
We bloom. In spring, in summer; everyday
We have the possibility to Be.
To be aware of who we are, and not to judge
The actions that we take as result of
The limits we perceive through human minds.
Through it all always desperate to find
What lies beneath, the truth of life; our light.
Just let it guide. The rest comes easily.

With hearts for love and hope, not hate and greed,
I'm constantly left contemplating, why?
Willingly in the dark, yet claim to see,
To play the game of ego with the self
While others play along, won't ask for help
Or find it in themselves; refuse to try
Then wonder why they just don't feel fulfilled.
It's not a case of finding light outside,
Just realise the life that's seen in you
Is all the light that shines over the view.
1.1k · Dec 2015
Colour Me In
Though sometimes with these ups and downs it may
Seem hard for me to keep within the lines
Of sanity, I swear I'll always try
To keep my colours just as bright as day.
And if I can't, colour me in with shades
That illuminate, enhance and light your life.
And I'll put all the trust in you I find
Within my mind to never let me fade.

I never thought I'd find another who
Could make me feel a little more like me.
Now finding someone I can look up to,
And looks at me the same, I guarantee
This filter that you seem to see me through,
Is all that I could ever wish to be.
1.1k · Sep 2014
Untitled #2
I never knew what the world would hold for me as a child, I didn't know real freedom. How it feels to just pack a bag and do anything. Yeah, everything was fresh and innocent, and I suppose that is something I miss from time to time, but there is real beauty in growing up. The ability to make decisions and feel the change they make in the world, the thrill of risk and the real excitement that comes with success and change. Although one thing that never has changed is my passion for adventure. As a child, finding adventure in the smaller, simpler things, and now, real adventure with no limitations or boundaries. Freedom.
Just a little thought process I had while on in Italy earlier this summer. I'm not sure whether I'm going to leave this as a small piece of prose writing or incorporate it into something bigger, I'll just have to see what happens :)
1.0k · Jun 2014
Little White Flower
Blossoming and blooming;
Blushing for the light.
Bright in a valley only filled with night.
A still ocean, undisturbed,
Harbouring beauty and warmth.

A single drop hitting the ground,
Opening the sky of fear and doubt;
Before the uncontrollable storm sets in on the rocks
and shakes, shakes, shakes.

The flower is faded now;
Chewed up and spit out.
Ripped, snatched;
Shaken. Shaped by brutal surroundings.
A charcoal mess; as the dying remain of endless wasted potential.
Cold; as a sharp slice of ice.
Damaged and damaging alike.
1.0k · Sep 2013
a sad cycle
a mysterious clock
hanging in the sky
by day the sun takes over
and by night the moon is shy
she whispers very gently,
and the sun extends his ear
wishing that it will be a confession of love that he will hear

but the sun hears nothing
of the confession the moon had made,
as he is swiftly moving out of touch
and the darkness throws it's shade,
once again the moon is lonely
yet doesn't break all night
"out of reach you may be,"
she whispers
"but at least i can bask in your light..."

a tragic love
a pitiful fate,
as their hearts drift away,
the sun sees her empty eyes
still looking at him,
patiently,
wistfully,
painfully,
whimpering

and as the cycle restarts
of moments cut too short,
nights and days will pass
hoping,
longing,
yearning for each other
whilst creating a world of light and beauty
still repaid with a constant heartache,
a hand of love so bittersweet
even for the most worthy of beings

love is a torturous cycle
that the sun and his loving moon
are forever entangled in
i wrote this with another girl as a poem collab so this is not all my writing
971 · May 2016
Swimming Lessons
My heart fills around you, up and up and up.
Until the overflow, filling my entire anatomy.
Pouring out of eye sockets, rain down a window;
Clear yet clouded. My body heavy,
I sink in my own creation, oceans of doubt.

You, my anchor, grounding me. Drowning me.
You, my Sun, the light above the waves.
You make the water glow as I edge down.
No struggle. No breath. I float under it all.

My eyes wide shut, I see you floating with me.
Taking my hand and pouring breath into my lungs;
You sink. Arm outstretched but palm tight shut.

Now, I see the Sun falling into my darkest creation,
And using all the breath you gave me; I lift us back to shore.

Treading water in new stillness, we float.
906 · Oct 2016
Lungs 2.0
With hands over these eyes, the view is blurred
To nothing but a glimpse through fingertips.
A monster from our nightmares bites his lips
And holds back sounds that should be heard,
Making paths grow dark and silent here on Earth.
We plunge into the solace of its grips,
And soon enough the world around us slips-
But sprouting in the darkness; we find Words.

At first we force them out, but quickly find
The monster that we bred can’t quite hold on.
Then Words come pouring freely from our minds;
Our sight is clearing up, in this new dawn.
We’ve made it here together, our fight for life;
One more breath into our lungs and we’re reborn.
In broken minds do broken hearts relapse,
A burning match, the fading light goes out.
This shaky world around me might collapse,
Slowly the pillars of my life fall down,
And leave me empty, brittle through the bone.
An indecisive mess, at best, I feel,
That no-one else can help, just me, alone.
And how can I when I don't know what's real?
The life around me sings but still I can't,
Find peace enough within to say a word,
So silent desperation's where I start,
And where I stay, afraid I might get hurt.
There's one thing you should know before I quit;
That you deserve the world, and I'm not it.
had a go at a Shakespearean sonnet this time, still needs editing.
894 · Oct 2013
one night
it's dark and it's cold so we put our coats and scarves and gloves on before we
leave the house and catch the first train we can find to a city where we watch our
breath like little clouds in front of us and smoke and kiss and find a building to
climb to the roof and sit and drink until we are tipsy while we watch the world
and feel like we are on top of everything and think we are invincible and we hold hands
and kiss some more and talk about everything possible until the sun comes up over
the skyline when we climb back down and get a train home and climb into bed
together and tangle into each other then fall asleep for the rest of the day
823 · Jan 2016
See-Through
Happy to be a crack within the wall,
That sinks as people think and pressure builds
To strive for freedom, love and life fulfilled
Beyond these callous constraints of control.
Abiding standards set by- who? We fall,
From Self, the Source of true condition killed.
Accepting life through these rose-tints we will
Barely breathe the blessing given to us all.

Through all distractions you cannot deny
We're here. We're- where? A spinning ball of being,
And yet we waste this time, find faults and criticise
Ourselves, and others, still longing for feeling.
The only things we need, an open eye
And mind to help us find our way to healing.
805 · Aug 2013
metaphors
the change between happiness and pain is just like the change between sun and the moon; inevitable.
but the sun happily moves over and welcomes the moon each and every time; and vice versa.
you can't have one without the other, so embrace both.
803 · Feb 2016
While They Fly
It's always while they're sleeping that you wonder the most. You wonder what really goes through their mind when they're not in control of their thoughts, if it's really your face popping up like they tell you it is. If it's you that makes their heartbeat quicken and their breath intensify. You wait for that mutter of a name, of your name. Though most of the time it won't happen, you can't help but wait. And then you're lost in the ins and outs of the air they're taking and you watch as their chest rises only to fall again, hoping you won't end up the same way.
    Their beauty stands out to you the most in this moment. The softened details of their face without emotion, without worry or sadness. The way their eyelids flicker as they dream and you pray that it's you they are looking at. You pray even if you don't believe because isn't anything worth trying to keep these moments yours? The most private of moments unknowingly shared.
    It might only be a brief second before you drift away yourself, only to be greeted with their face again. Or you may ponder on the thought of their peace and pull them closer to you; wrap yourself up tight.
    When they're in your arms, they're all yours for that split second. You'll probably get lost in it, in them, as your lips fall to their skin and you mutter aloud the words you want to narrate their dreams. Hear me, you think, half hoping they'll awaken to meet their lips to yours while the other half is content with this silent admiration. You deepen your breath to match theirs, waiting to meet them wherever they are as soon as your body decides to shut down.
     One more kiss, you think, planning to lean your head forward once more, but before you can, the melody of their breath is forming a lullaby, and you're flying away too.
802 · Oct 2015
Untitled
Hazy mornings reflect on my mind,
With you right there at the forefront.
A dancing blur of light and art;
My pencil your informant.

And though it seems a radiant tranquility,
Reality can **** a concept.
As when my eyes flutter open and aren't met with yours,
As far as I go, well, there's nothing left.

Pressure on a fracture that splits into a void,
Opening up within me.
This twisted beauty spilling out,
We can't go back now, can we?

What becomes of me in this frosty isolation,
I guess we'll never know.
With feelings that don't equate to words,
I couldn't portray the sorrow.

So I'll stay in my hazy mornings,
And try to build a home, where
There's all the beauty, light and art,
And reality can't find me there.
one of my module assignments is to write a poem in 'ballad form' so here is my first attempt. any advise or criticism is appreciated!
792 · Jan 2015
Untitled #3
Kissing you set a fire burning so deep inside me
I felt like I was wasting any minute of my life I spent doing anything else.
Repetitive thoughts, my whole world. On and on and on,
A time bomb in the foundation.
An extended spring sprouting false hope; a vision of perfection.
But when I stripped it all away, what was left?
Only the wind on my face and the light from the moon.
And it’s only now, looking up at the stars that I realise;
People don’t have that kind of beauty.
792 · Apr 2016
Connect
When the ego finds its way into control,
Remember how a tree lives as it grows.
With beauty in its stillness, strength and soul,
We see how nature finds a way to over-throw
The concepts of the mind we blindly trust.
When searching for our inner peace we must
Remember just how we are nature too;
Just like the tree cannot forget to grow,
We can’t forget to breathe while life flows through.
682 · Jul 2019
mould
Diving in with blinkered eyes, I find
a growth that crawls across my skin and sinks.
It swims and smirks at demons planted young
enough to draw a blank on valid roots.
Doubt nourishes delusions ‘til they bloom
in clear distortion. ****** boundaries
blurring in the glass that could be used
to feed an urgent withheld fantasy.
To bind my view on bare skin: agony.
The kind where breath escapes the reach of lungs
and bones could shatter pain-free, senses numbed
by visions of strict moulds and goals to hit
in light of realisation: I don't fit.
636 · Sep 2014
Wake Up
I think sometimes we just need to pause. To breathe. Breathe in, breathe out. Feel the air on your skin. To just take a moment and not focus on anything but that breath. Nothing else matters. Take in your surroundings. You are here, in this moment right now, so experience it. Don't waste it thinking about past or future moments. Now is all that matters.
A very short piece inspired by my mindfulness practice.
583 · Mar 2015
Untitled #4
Here we go again,
A day trip in our vibrant little bubble
With hearts so light I've forgotten what the dark is,
Finding sanity within our fleeting eternity,
And solace within the depths of
Each-others cloudy minds.
The bewildering clarity
Of a moment shared, lost
But never forgotten.
In our perfectly crazy infinity;
The only place I feel truly alive
With the exhilaration of adventure
Pumping through my veins
Almost as quickly as this drug they call 'love'
That consumes and lifts us out of this world,
But I don't mind.
I'd let everything fade to nothing
Just to float away with you
In our vibrant little bubble,
One more time.
562 · May 2015
waves
There's a new kind of silence in my mind
That sits as softly as a sunrise
That familiar drift, feeling your breath
Fall against my neck
As though you're the cool breeze in summer; and I'm the forest you are swaying;
Strong but somehow more beautiful with every second of your presence.

Taking me back to the first time our hands and bones intertwined
A tidal wave of perfection falling
Over my mind.
Looking at you, I don't merely see a person
But endless opportunity to flow and fall wherever I please,
Knowing I have you by my side,
To make me that little bit more myself
Than I ever have been.
541 · Apr 2016
Untitled
A soul searching for an answer and finding it within whilst still sat up wondering what the **** the question is. If I hit this wall, my skin'll try to crawl, but will I find a smile hiding under it all? And yes, it's all 'okay', but is that how I want it to be? The beauty of pain missing as I crawl through happy days. Is living enough? Or do we need more than love? We need the sting of touching fire or we'd be born with ******* gloves. I mean- yes, I'm 'happy', but is that the point? I guess it's pretty stupid that I think I'm annoyed at being human in general, it's wonderfully mad and I can't complain with the life I've had. And yes, living is great. It's the best thing I do, but isn't it strange how sometimes you kind of want to lose? It's all just a game at the end of the day, and if losing wasn't an option it'd be a ******* boring game to play.
So we make our own rules, add snakes to balance ladders and keep our minds amused. But what's the use? When unhappy feels bad but all happy just screws us. You drown it in *****; the need for something new. After all, we're only human and it ******* confuses us. A craving for a day when we can feel our infinity, ignoring the human races basic stupidity and in reality we just end up making ourselves feel ******. At least we're ******* feeling, the highs and the lows, trying to find the balance and let go of the blows.
"Go with the flow." we whisper through jaws clamped tight shut, not even allowing the words to stay put in our mouths while we're pondering how to be satisfied through brains built on doubt. That's the human condition and in itself it has beauty, but that doesn't mean i have to enjoy the way we see. Stumbling along in an attempt to find some freedom, but when we're trapped by our form it's us that gets beaten and I've found myself lost now I'm craving to feel, not caring if it's pain as long as it's real. A knot in the stomach of life through our eyes, that begs us for more if we can't find the time for excitement in our lives. I want to adventure, to fall and to climb, feel the waves of emotion that come with it; thrive after the dive, to find some perspective underneath conditioned lies. And why? Because as soon as I feel like I'm stuck in routine, it bites me in the **** and makes me want to scream. We need ******* more in our days and our nights, the essence of passion that brings us to life. So **** it to 'normal' and **** it to 'fine', I'll find my peace in the fall to the fire between the lines.
539 · Apr 2016
Untitled
Do we happen to life or does life happen to us? How do we know what the **** we can trust when our minds can't conclude whether something's enough but tears fall from our face with no thoughts to their name and we feel like we should be starting over again. Another attempt at a life gone one way, without the slightest idea where I think it should be. It's all the same. There's still sun, there's still rain, there's still pain. But no mix of the three can explain this lock in my brain. Am I here? Am I lost? Am I okay with this loss of walls hidden behind far too long to hold on. Are they gone? Or am I? We're all going to die and I want to look back and be pleased with my life. So I'll hold my breath tight and dive into a path with no clue if it's right and just trust that I must have some say in my fight. Being human means confusion and an illusion of time we spend trying to find our own way into the light. And why? Because no one has a clue but we like to think we do and that's what's on all of our minds at the end of the night. After days where we run until our lungs collapse in hope we can find a place where we can see the maps of the world and the life that happens right before our eyes. How simple it looks and how I hate to despise but this world I see right in front of me isn't a scratch on the pain wanting to break free. It screams and I dream I can get it all out but the best I can do is reluctantly numb it or shout "Why the **** is this me?" This is not what I want to be defined by but no matter what I try it arrives and it's bigger than before, not ready to be ignored, so how the **** do I find more? I'm ready to hit the floor running again. I'm not sure if this is the beginning or the end.
534 · Jul 2019
Teacher
If seeds don’t tend to spill far from the tree,
I just can’t help but wonder where I’ll land.
In shame, my poisoned roots conspire to plant
unstable footing: reckless destiny.
You, cold in slow-birthed pain, beg to be free,
away from grasp of rope-red harnessed hands
while I struggle to find my feet and stand.
A narrative intended to repeat.

Don’t touch me. It’s a trap. I’ll never grow
into a pretty vessel with a use.
Dead roots infect their damaged seeds: echo
through gardens, plant by plant until they choose
to drown it out, to let the system go
and cut unfolding lessons at the root.
472 · Jun 2019
candy
I guess it would be kind of nice to learn
that spitting sweetness never gets you far
in early morning daylight. There's no charm
in forceful flames, when we will always burn
with uninspiring silence in return.
When finding fears that rise with the alarm;
dark, tempted lips insist on causing harm
then choke on rotten candies of concern.

I guess it would be nice to be taught how
to keep my bitten tongue secure and still;
to sleep through early mornings and allow
incessant pleading rest from overkill.
If you, my sweet, once chose to be around,
I understand why you’d have lost the thrill.
another petrarchan sonnet, not the easiest but I'm liking the style I seem to have developed in my sonnets now...
443 · Feb 2015
Briefly Yours
Goodbye, my friend
Or hello, so it seems
To this unfamiliar take on you.
It's frustratingly new

To me, it seems strange but
Sometimes when I can't sleep
You pop into my head
Quickly replaced with another
But though I would like to,
I can't deny that you are there.

And weirdly, tonight
I can't see straight,
But I can see you.
And I can see that you see me, too.
Maybe we can just forget- ****
I know that's crazy
But that's what you turn me into.

It is rather unfair of you
To leave me all tangled up
Like this; a mess of what ifs
And mixed up thoughts.
But I guess you'll make
A happy little mess
Wherever you go.
(Or so I hope)

So goodbye,
Really I just wanted to say
That even if you never know,
I guess I've briefly been yours,
In a strange sort of way.
432 · Jul 2019
Hades
Catching breath below the pines,
we fall again. Stunted by
a view of ambition, killed mid-step
by a tongue my mouth can’t home.
It begs for yours, once a sweeter
denizen. Brief encounters.

Lower, in the midday pitch,
we play on dampened grass.
An old and broken home
morphs into tiny bricks –
layered perfectly for the second.

Now, under bright arches
we build and build. Push through:
pursue a touch of loss. Doors built,
splintering into a time that
screams too loud to hear recent tones.

A spin on the chapped path,
we dodge the looming break:
seconds to go. Swimming in
lightened patches on the grass,
we crumble sweetly as the stone.
430 · May 2014
Untitled #1
Could I be the blossom tree
Or the daisy, or sunflower.
To lie in that light,
To see the eyes devour.

Or could I be the dying ****
Beneath those feet,
Reluctantly.

Could I be-
What could I be?
We'll have to wait and see.
I haven't written in a while and thought I'd try a new style of poetry
355 · Jul 2019
clean
One final push. Afresh, I tell myself
I’ll make it farther from the starting line;
that clean will mean eternally this time.
I swear I won’t repeat a strike and swell
beyond the bones, stay intact for my health.
When well intentioned vows distort to lies,
the best that I can do is hide the thighs
and keep my body numbed by zinfandel.

I’m doing well. The surface still intact.
Slight murky colorations, senseless goals
in idiotic, broken breaths of angst.
Unsettled by the battle for control,
I might as well give up while urges last.
Afresh, the starting line: tempting me home.
352 · Mar 2019
In Bloom
The flowers in my hair have planted weeds
inside my sanity. Developed roots
that cant be separated now, they're fused;
intrinsic to my idiotic needs.
The darkness spreads through insecurities
that form when painful memories dilute
and bend into a distant toxic truth
that leaves a desperation to concede.

I'm not quite sure just how to carry on
when words don't really help and there's no room
to plant new flowers or to try move on.
I guess I'll have to think of something new.
You'll find me in my garden from now on,
uprooting weeds to finally be in bloom.
311 · Jul 2019
Lost
To blindly follow : voiceless to
reality as it splits the seams of hope,
seems senseless in the modern day.
Desire in minor doses, keep me afloat
while I play in the darkened margins of faith.
To ripen: ripping my voids wide open to
bask in the space. Become undone,
unpicked at every outline as they blur
into one. Will you join me?

In worlds where we could drift, depth
in the sound of a hollow early morning,
there could be something beyond the silence.
It grows, alongside urgency, while we
wait for pulses to rise higher than
the rule of day. Then, would you play?
208 · Jun 2019
spiral
A vast collapse, as light is burning out
to charcoal ash. My sight can’t guarantee
a single step ahead: the irony
of eyelids open, dressing minds with doubt.
The sweetest cherry flags were shouting loud,
as if my muddled brain could hear the screams;
react to some acceptable degree,
not plunge into the spiral or blackout.

Now time is bending, blurring all too fast
to pinpoint how to cease the looming threat.
The motionless abandon of the crash
takes aid away from tests and rules I’ve set.
Now trapped down here, in torment, all I ask
is “Please can someone help me to forget?”
193 · Jun 2019
survival
A grinding halt, one fragment at a time.
Up front, that fierce direction I might need
consuming days with more than air to breathe.
Instinct to catch the sun, soaking bright light
through glowing skin. The pine to step outside
and wander in a warming morning breeze.
Dark urgency to touch; desire with ease;
it slowly slips away by flawed design.

Eventually, a breath can seem a chore
when every gasp brings aching disregard.
If breathing turns to wasted life support:
who wants a working, anesthetised heart?
To force the lungs to fill and then to fall
seems criminal when lips don’t want to part.
189 · Nov 2015
Shadow
"I swear to god, I'm ******* done."
When will this ever end?
A maze within my mind; I'm gone.
Don't let me break, just bend.

I can't live in my head today,
Can I just have some rest?
Some peace and quiet from the way,
My heart screams in my chest.

Sometimes I just can't help but think,
Am I a hurricane?
With self-destruction on the brink,
Of never-ending rain.

That's pouring now, drowning my mind,
Why can't I just escape?
This constant pain of trying to find,
A way to pull the breaks.

A broken shadow of someone,
But does she still exist?
Don't know if I'm still a person,
Sights aimed at life, but missed.
181 · Jun 2019
vessels
My eyes latch on to you, as I begin
to notice yours. Alive and wide open
to wonder. Stuck within a starry gaze,
one million tiny planets mirrored in
the fresh and newly gleaming galaxies
you hold. I start to feel you float away.
I watch you set your sails, with hope in hand
and wonder if I’d ever catch a glimpse
of eyes so honest. I would lap it up -
swim right along beside you, if I could.

Delusion tells me there might be a way
to steal those looks, at least for a few months.
A vessel for your future; my today,
but one of disappointment, all the same,
or so they told me once when I was young.
I guess we’d have to wait and see if I
would break the way they forecast that I could
or if I’d fracture how I always do.
Either way, that fear skips over you.

I won’t deny, a temporary peace
could be the perfect savior to my doubt.
That soft and gentle smile you’re posing now
could be all mine for just a little while.
I’d let you sweetly sway me off to sleep,
protect me with your life while we both float
away into that sky and I would be
the perfect vessel before my decline.
Relationship love vessel women feminist female

— The End —