We picked feathers
off the ground and
saved them, hoping we
would eventually collect
enough to fly

when the frost came
and covered the streets in
white dew, we wound count
out how many we had

but it was as if we were
always in debt to the birds
who’d lost them, plucking out
the one thing that gave them
a freedom that we would
never know

We were strangers drifting
on a sea of chance

meetings in smoky clubs
hands slipped together like silk

stained coffee cups and sugar lumps
in my throat

and then the waves crashed
against our promises

of a future that was a double dare
to promise

You bleed the black ink that flows
from my
pen

but if I am to write a love song
I shall sing to you as you fall asleep

or a shattered heart letter that
I shall burn and never send

I
Don’t
Know
Anymore

Your hands hold
more than the weight
of the world

more even than the
weight of my heart

every love song ever
written hums between
your fingers

their chords, honey drenched
braids that wrap and tie around
your wrists

shackling you to every note
of passion, every outpouring of
devotion that has ever
been sung

that is more than my heart
can hold

but your hands…
your hands are strong enough to hold
the promised tune of forever

I’m scared
to feel more
than your
love

so even when
it’s over

I cling to
the veins and arteries
of my broken
heart

like lifelines

hoping they will
save me from
drowning

I watch a pebble make ripples in the water, before it sinks, and it’s painful to know
that at times, I have also wanted to drown

surrounded by the rippling conscious of my life
my past exploding and corroding

I do not want to drown every day,
some days I see the beauty of the lake
its shimmering blue surface, the rugged rocks wrapping around its body

but some days…

some days the past is like a knife of flames plunged into my heart,
and only the deepest depths of water
will extinguish it

I sit on a beach
on a freezing December night,
the sun has gone down
pinks and purples and golds,
the waves are vicious
I pray that they consume me
to wrap their foam around my waist
and pull me under -
I run my fingers through golden sand
as silky as your hair, and I am transported
back to that last night together,
the hatred in your eyes when
you told me to leave, burns in my memory
every time I close my eyes,
and I didn’t question or argue
I didn’t plead or beg,
because I have known from an age
where I should simply have been
playing with dolls,
that I am difficult
that I am different
that I ultimately
impossible to love

We were the graveyard girls
gorging on lost souls and bones

But our highest prize….

…we wanted to taste Death.

To bite into his flesh, and hallucinate his prey,
to let his blood trickle on our tongues, red as a brilliant, untouched ruby

We wanted to see if it would -
by some twist of supernatural law - make us immortal

(or infamous)

I long
to be folded
in paragraphs
and wrapped tight
in sentences

words that are both
a balm and a blaze

for a vowel to be the spark
that sets of a fire
that reduces everything to ashes

(past, present, future…)

is all I dare hope for

I am like fire,
burning through the
memory of you

every moment will
be ashes, the ashes
soon dust

you will not destroy me,
for I hold the flame that
burns as bright as star -
light, that annihilates
trauma and pain

do you think for a second,
that I will think of you? When
I am picking stardust out
of my hair

do you think you will matter
to me? When my memory
of you, is merely smoke
in the air

I am out
throwing breadcrumbs
to help me find
my way back
to you

you are out
with torches
burning down
the trees that line
the pathways

home

You see scars
instead of stories,
histories weaved and stitched
half healed, still tingling with shame,

fragile ribbons tied together by my teeth,
pulled tight against the darkest night,
when midnight was a threat, and sunrise
an aching promise that I might forget,

so, see scars if that’s all
you can see,
but I now honour the stories
within me

You murdered me
yet I survived,
in a sleep where death
is my only dream,

my heart was stolen,
yet I hold it in my hand,
broken and scarred,
why does it still
beat?

I feel your fingers on every
inch of my flesh,
flies that get under my skin
and infect my insides
with fear, guilt and shame,

I hold every breath in
the purgatory of my
throat ,

to be sent to the
Heaven of forgetting
or the Hell of regretting

You held a promise
over my head like a guillotine,

I'd be safe as long as I did
what you asked,

I'd survive so long as I
gave you what you wanted,

I saw God in the face of Satan,
because there was no other
way for it to be,

and you want my thanks
and gratitude for being
my saviour that
night?

when you would put me
in a prison, for the rest of my life...

Can it not be enough
for your skin to tingle,

when it gets too close
to the open fire you are
curled in front of,

reading books that take
you to places that even
your dreams don't reach...

To exist in a moment of
contentment without waiting,
wanting, wishing for
the next one..

There was a time when I would run
into a burning building
to save you,

until I released that you were,
in fact, the arsonist,

setting light to whatever you touched,
(for the Hell of it)
and I was in that
(Hell)

my flesh burning as your fingers
pressed their prints on it

but you didn’t realise,
that you had turned me into evidence

and I would drag my body through
a thousand fires, and roll in the ashes,
of what’s left of my life

to help them catch you

When I close my eyes
I see the beach where we once sat,
drinking wine and sharing cigarettes,
we watched the waves crash over
the sand, imagining that one day,
we would own a cottage on the coast,
we were could listen to
the ocean each night,
as we snuggled warm under blankets,
now we are cold and distant,
and no amount of dreaming
will bring the fire back into
our hearts, we are over
and it hurts to remember
those careless, wasted days,
where we could have done
so much instead of just
waiting

You pick apart
the days we've shared
as is if they are cotton threads on a shirt,
analysing each moment
to see where we went wrong,

examining what you believe
to be the facts, when love
can't be understood by
facts.

What about the feelings
we shared? or the kisses?
do these things matter less
than a ten minute taxi ride
or a possible wrong turn
in the woods?

Why are you so cold?
so utterly distant from your heart?
as if it doesn't live in your own chest at all,
but in another body entirely,

maybe that is why I could never reach it
maybe that is why our relationship
will be eliminated to nothing,
after your deductions

the morning dew
that covers
our shoes
as we walk blindly
into another day
of opportunity

will become the
midnight rain
that drowns out
the sound
of the chances
we missed

you smell of cigarettes
and brandy,
and I breathe it down
as if it is the purest air
I have ever known,

my nose bleeds, eventually,
and yet I do not blame you,

for in your eyes I see
the fire in my own,
the fury and rage that longs
to burn down buildings that have
stood tall for hundreds of years,

out of spite and jealously,
that our passion will barely last
a hundred seconds

we lived in a fantasy
that if we saved
each other

then we would
somehow heal the
brokenness that sat heavy
in our hearts

not realising that we were
losing ourselves
by fighting so hard
for each other’s

existence

I wanted to cut down

something that had barely begun to bloom

to pour poison on its roots so it may never

grow again

maybe it was envy driving me

or maybe I just wanted the world to see

how fleeting youth and beauty

can be

If fire burns
and destroys
everything
in it’s path

then why
do I want
to touch
the stars

so badly

can self destruction
really be so
beautiful

I am just
trying to
find my
way home

when all the
breadcrumbs
have been
eaten

by crows

I am
sleeping in the
graveyard
where I buried
you

living in a
body without
a heart that’s
whole

breathing with lungs
coated in the tar from
your cigarettes

a constant memory
of you, taking me back
with every exhale

I said goodbye
yet still, you live
inside of me

in every *****
and drop of
blood

on every inch
of skin, each
hair

your grave
swarms as your
bones reform

and I cannot
rest in
peace

Red and white checks

concealing sec
- rets

grass blades irritating

bare thighs

fingers trace a pattern on them

marking my flesh in ways I don’t

understand

yet know too well

the pencil draws higher and higher

until it reaches

my centre

yet I am off balance

and the world is spinning around me

clouds dancing across the sky

the sun piercing my eyes

yet still I stare at it

too scared to break the gaze

and return back to my body where

blood is simmering below

but never boiling over

never exposing

never letting anyone else

in on

- it

lips sealed

terrified for the day the locks get

broken

You stand
one foot outside the door
expecting me to pull you back
by my heartstrings

but I am tired,
and no longer beat
in time to your

movements

so, go

and I shall burn
myself to ashes
to rise again

and your memory
shall be dust

we walk
under a canopy
of wasps drunk
on rotten apples

a second away from
a sting in the neck
that would put an end
to our feet tracing the

path to our destiny

We stood on a deserted beach on a freezing January night,
staring at the waves as they ebbed and flowed,
they seemed so infinite,
as if they would never stop their gentle rhythm,

and we -
we…

the skin of our love was cracking violently apart,
as if we had been lying under the sun
with no protection, for years

(maybe we had)

there were no words to soothe the burns,
no actions to undo the damage

we had - split

back into two separate people,
instead of consuming one identity,
and maybe that was best,
because two hearts, two brains, four lungs…
in one entity…
you are sure to burst at the seams…

I ask the moon to light up
your footprints

as if I could follow the trail home
with moonbeam shining on my face

but that great, silver sphere
holds no clues

and stardust can only sustain me
for so long

I eat scraps of midnight
but my hunger for you

burns more fiercely
than the oncoming sun

I am forever treading on the footprints
I have left, on the paths
I have already walked,

leaving breadcrumbs behind me,
as I navigate the impossible forest
of life,

at dusk, my shoes shine like diamonds,
as they retrace every step
that leads me home, and back

to you

We danced in a summer haze
white wine and sweat
seeping from our pores

the fire flies bared witness
to our eyes meeting
for the first time

our hands trembling
as they touched
your fingers brushing
my brushed cotton
dress

sun kissed and
senseless with
longing

desperate to live in the moment
for once
but the thought of a cruel
oncoming autumn

constantly lurking in
the back of our minds

Heartless, they call me,
a silver dagger plunged
and twisted
into a red hot
*****,
knives severing arteries
and veins until I
unravel like dropped
wool,
my blood cells fighting
the infection of close contact
with a society
that would not stand
for me,
heartless isn't born,
it grows in the space
between love and hate,
blooms out of the dark soil
the seeds of shame and blame,
thrives when it's locked away
in a (rib) cage, behind bars
like a circus freak,
sometimes, I long to feel
but then I hear of heartbreak,
heartsickness, and I am glad that mine
does not beat...

If you understand the beauty
of a sunset, then please tell me
how it works
for the flaming oranges and reds
just remind me of the fire I’ve been
running from my whole life

the flames constantly licking my heels
as I try to propel myself
further
faster

I know it will catch me up
one day, and engulf me
in the past I’ve spent
every ounce of energy I have
trying to forget
I know it will burn me
mark me, scar me

but I hope I will douse
the fire down, and walk
free once the pain passes
and maybe then, we can
share the beauty of
a sunset

In candlelight we kiss

two flames meeting

and becoming one

as the wax melts

we wrap ourselves closer together

knowing we have minutes

until our moment ends

I used to think
angels were
a symbol
of protection

of hope
and light
and peace

but I have seen
angels with teeth
bared like
wolves

hungry for blood
(my blood)
and willing to rip
flesh from
bone

in their desperate
primal urge

I have seen angels
walk me into
a busy road
of traffic

and have me
lay on the
concrete

I have seen angels
pour “just one
more”

drink down
my throat

no, angels
do not
protect you

when they are
the manifestation
of your
nightmares

and in that moment
I saw infinity
reflected in the eye
of a mermaid
who had swam
to shore
to sing your name

seaweed haired girl
you carry the ocean
in the pocket of
your heart

and in mine
sweet and ripe
as strawberries
I carry
salt kissed kisses
the centre of
our love

I am struck
by lightning
every time
our fingers
meet

I drink the
wine of your
sweat
as if I were
an alcoholic,
desperate for
that first sip
of liquor

knowing it
is destroying
their organs,
but unable to
stop reaching for
the bottle, or

the flesh

I don’t believe in God
but you’re testing my (lack of) faith,
I look in to your eyes and see deep
blue oceans. Wild waves of freedom
and adventure.

how can such eyes not be the
result of Creation?

I hear your pulse echo in
my ear. The thumping beat of
everything that could ever be…

Divinity indeed, but if I were to
believe  - I would have to accept
that He could cruelly stop your
heartbeat, and take you from me
in a second

take away the rhythm
my feet follow
to find their way home

The cliffs we are standing on
are so high we can’t see over
the edge

but we know the drop

it has lingered like smoke
in our dreams for weeks
has curled like a vine
around our hearts

we have fantasised about it

wrote three chord songs
with bad lyrics
about the plummet

now we stand beneath
a carpet of stars
jagged rock beneath our feet

is it still our fantasy to fly?

or are we just two people
whose love became so toxic
that death seemed like the only
way to cleanse, to detox,
to start a new chapter

when you are two inches from death
your life flashes before your eyes
and neither of us saw beauty
or brilliance

especially together
especially together
especially together

We smoke cigarettes together
on cold beaches

smoke curling around our fingers
and hovering for a second
like a peace offering

the ocean is gigantic
and we cannot begin to
understand it
like we cannot begin
to understand our hearts

but they both beat
to the rhythm of
an almightier drum
and we will learn
what it means, in time, dear
we will learn

I sit at a wooden table
with four chairs
(One only has three legs)
the trickle of rain seeping
through the broken window
grows into the cascade of
a waterfall, in my mind

food is being shared out
plump strawberries that smell
like summer, and fresh bread
that makes me cry
with the thought of the effort
that went into making it

I sit waiting for the conversation
to start
the conversation I have waited
years to start
I’m not even scared anymore
I have my tribe
If they disown me
I can cope, practically

My partner squeezes my hand
she’s been here before
The morning chatter is coming
to an end
I don’t have long
I just have to say it
To be honest, it amazes me
that they can’t ******* SEE it
But ****, it’s over
They all walk out around me
Leaving us sitting there
hands clasped together
Maybe together is all we have

I do not ask you to stay
with my eyes
with tears and looks of desperation

I do not as you to stay
with my hands
fingers clinging to you, half possessed

I don’t even ask you to stay
with my heart
hoping beyond hope that the beat
of my pulse will guide you home

No.

I ask you to stay with the stars
to look at our names, that have long burnt
in the midnight sky

they burn inside me now
I am consumed by the blaze
and I know that you are feeling
as cold as the moon towards me
but a little ice would put the fire out

and maybe there is hope
when fire and ice collide

We sit
fingers wrapped tightly
around each other
as the sky falls in
around us

but it’s okay
because we hold stars
in the palm of our hands

and taste moon dust
on our tongues

who needs the sky
when we are complete
in a midnight moment

We are all prisoners to our fears
and the power to set yourself
free, lies in the palm
of your hand,

an invisible key of courage,

but the thought of breaking
out of this cage,

a combination of misery
and comfort, torment and safety

overwhelms me completely,
and so I stay behind bars
eating scraps of other emotions
writing poems on the walls
in black crayon

I am not courageous

Of the million faces I have seen
I remember every line and crack
of yours,

ocean blue eyes,
those gentle waves
that swirl around
your ink black
pupils

I can paint from memory
the freckles on your cheeks,
a dot to dot map
that leads me home
when I am lost,

Of all the million faces I have seen
I would give up the rest of my life
to see yours, one more time

Shame twists like a serpent
in my stomach

absorbing every bit of nourishment
I try to give my body

I am left weak -
and desperate

for air

to breathe without weight on my lungs
to taste air that isn’t poisoned

but the serpent grows,
restricting every breath

until I am clinging onto life
with my fingernails
seconds away from

slipping

I do not know what
makes you beautiful

maybe it’s that your arm
stretches around me
like a wave

and the thump of your heart
is as calming as the pulse
of the ocean

but why try to explain
the impossible
when you know it
will lose it’s magic

I pretended to be somebody else
it was easier that way
acting a part in a different play

I became addicted to the roar
of the audience
the standing ovations
for a character I merely inhabited

then I met you
and suddenly I became
real

the pores of my skin
uncovered
the awkwardness
of my personality
became a quirk
not a shame
to shy away from

and I started to live
a different act
the act of us

I used to think
that writing
released my pain
and my shame

but all it does
it make it real

glaring back it me
inky black
on crisp white sheets of paper
that my pen
should never have
tarnished

I don’t even know
what release looks like

but I know I don’t want it
to look back
at me

like a reflection of words