Why don't you want her?
She's everything you ever wanted when you were sixteen;
her lips drawn, eyes heavy,
ready to fall into your arms
drunk, gasping for air

Kiss her, you idiot

She's so ill, so sick, so tired of boys like you
who sit and stare at her from across the room
She's not made of porcelain, though her skin may tell you otherwise
She's not made of glass
She's made of living, breathing, flesh and blood,
all soft skin and rough kisses

She wants to hear you say her name,
voice strained from the pressure of her body on yours
But you'll just sit there
Maybe buy her a drink
Maybe tell her coyly that she's 'one of the prettiest girls...'
Maybe walk her home
And watch as she dissapears through her front door,
black space forming a vignette

Why didn't you just kiss her?

You look at me through half-shut eyes,
crooked smile playing upon your lips,
the high kicking in
and here am I wishing I'd shared that joint with you.
  Tell him
                                 Tell him
                                 Tell him how you feel
Another boy who is not you listens to me intently,
then suddenly distraction and he's gone,
his eyes fixed on someone else-
another girl who appears more beautiful in nature than I.

                                      It's okay. Turn back, tell the other
I turn to you,
laugh it off,
tell you this happens often.
                           Nobody listens to me
You laugh a little.
"Go on."
                   Tell him now, forget the story and tell him now.

Struck by those encouraging words,
I pour my heart out to you,
It aches a little.

Caught in your gaze, I suppress my carnal urges
As you hang on every word,
like it means more to you than it does to me.

We walk together.
Nothing said.
You apologise,
but your voice makes it sound like you're not sorry.

I wish you were sorry.

I wish you hadn't made all these promises to me.

I laughingly joke 'you owe me'.
But you don't catch  my words,
they escape from my mouth too fast.

                Tell him. Tell him about the promises he made to you...
I try, the words caught in the back of my throat
but you're gone,
with the clothes you lent me now on your back,
and all you say is goodbye
but I hear your words before I see you walking away.

                                        SAY SOMETHING
Traffic lights stun me into silence

                                       Why is he doing this? *

I think of  the night we were left alone,
you walking me home at 1am,
us marvelling at the beauty
of a lone fox running down the road in the dark,
the pavements basked in the light of street lamps.

I think of your drunken words,
your drunken promises that seemed so real
and so genuine.
The trips to town,
the mixtapes,
and the long walks you promised me.

I remember you telling me I was beautiful.

I try to steady myself against the pole beside me.
                               *Oh God.
Eyes swelling, chest tightening.

**I love you when you're drunk,
I hate you when you're high.
And whenever I think I know you,
I realise you're still wearing one of those masks.

Thursday morning, I woke up empty
My limbs so heavy, I was sinking into sand
I knew by a few hours, all would be forgotten
Even though the photos would always last

I think my memory is better than that of others
Because even in dreams, I remember their faces
I remember their names, their voices, their talk of lost loves
And the unspoken acknowledgment of the broken divide

I used to think it was their fault, but maybe it's my own
As I wish to stop all the clocks, keep things frozen in the dark
Keep our hearts warm with drinks from cold cans
And our conversation flowing like the smoke we exhale from our lungs

I regret nothing but refusing to say more
in the day like I had
the night before

Molly came to school when I was fourteen
but she was years older, appearing as a beautiful traveller
who'd circled the globe and made friends with everybody.

She was always the popular one, but one I never got to know,
because my sister at thirty-five told me that she had killed a man
once or twice.

The kids I knew found this hard to believe, as Molly got to know them all.
She'd hang out with them after school, and was always there,
waiting to widen her circle.
Molly never lost her charm,
and she stole the hearts of boys I loved.
She opened their eyes to a world I could not show them,
she drank their blood on Friday nights.
Every boy I'd meet would have a story to tell,
her name dropped like an atom bomb into conversation.

They'd all met her.
They all knew her.

They met her at nightclubs,
and stopped caring about how **** the music sounded
They met her on their holidays ,
and tasted her before the alcohol wore off
They met her at festivals,
where she'd creep into their tents before the main stage lit up

I wonder maybe one day will we be friends
Instead of resenting each other
because she's killed a man
more than once or twice