I make coffee at 3 am
and take it out to the porch
nursing the heat
between my freezing fingers

the stars smile down on me
I spell your name
like a new constellation
but I can't find you

here

I never wanted to read
the letters you left
me

black ink bleeding
across the page
like the letters on
tattoo'ed skin

that touched water too soon

I imagine the pen-
nib scratching, stinging
like a thousand, angry
bees

you're smoking cigarettes
they don't make anymore
and your yellowed fingers
remind me of caterpillars
that never made it
to butterflies

swollen with new life
and coloured ugly from
the effort of trying
to transform into
it,

and failing

there’s a wild, hungry pain in my heart

that longs for your fingertips
to brush lightly through my hair

a reckless sorrow that longs
to scream at the moon, like a wolf
and find a place for its song among the stars

a sleepless malice that knows no bounds
of misery to inflict on my soul

wild heart, sweet sorrow, mad malice...

please add up the sum of my parts,
and leave me whole again

even if I am whole in misery

It's five-thirty
when I walk
barefoot and
hesitant

eyes wide open
against the
dark

towards the place
I last kissed
you

I can hear
your lungs
lift and fall

lift and fall

like I fell
for you

I am wearing
one of your
shirts

it's sleeves hang
loose

I can almost
wrap them
around me
twice

my stomach
clenches and thinks
of breakfast

cups of coffee
and newspapers
to argue over

our kitchen is
bright and clean
red gingham curtains
like the ones
little girls

dream of

scrubbed wooden
table and chairs

each with a leg
that needs to
rest upon
a book

I'll pass you the
milk and sugar

smile into
my cereal
bowl

tell you where
you left you
car keys

stand in the
doorway waving
you off to work

I reach down
through the black-
ness

to where I think
your blanket
is

searching for the
soft corner of
warmth

my fingers touch
nothing but
air

my feet are
freezing

I hear the clock
strike six

and wake
up

like rolling mountains,
the arch of your spine
takes me on a breathtaking
adventure

to the highest peak
of pleasure and the
lowest valley of
despair

it is a terrain I have
learnt to navigate ,
a landscape I have mapped
with the tips of my fingers

I stand at the summit
elevated and elated,
surveying the land
I know

your eyes
I claim as
my own

It's an echo of war

a battle no-one can
remember fighting

or winning

but we know that
we are the
losers

somehow

even if we can't
see it

I wanted seven seconds
of silence, the stillness
of unturned pages and
leaves that are yet to
be crunched, underfoot

we ate with plastic knifes
and forks, food blending
into to the taste of it

no time exists here

at seventeen, we were
running, full of *****
we'd bought and wine
that we'd stolen from
cheap supermarkets

now we're here

where the days chase
us down like hungry
wolves and the air is
too heavy to smoke
through

we smoked a lot

and dragged the ash
from our dog ends
across your parents
new patio

into the shapes of
our names

I wanted you to call
for me in the morning
and sneak into my room
at night

I wanted us to be lovers,
the way that bare hands
feel under fesh sheets
and the taste of your
sweat on my lips

I wanted our bodies
to burst

to know fire and
tame it

your car hit something
solid as you fiddled,
one handed, between
the ribs of me

my wasp heart
tapping at the sides
of it's jar

I tasted blood for the
first time

beating against you

There’s no future in the past
so I carve out a path for myself
like an ancient scholar
carving lessons into stone
a path that leads me out
of the darkness
and into brilliant sunlight
I take my first steps like a child
always pushing
always dreaming
but despite it all
you are forever looking back

Autumn
falls back through my memories,
ripples of remembrance that ache
in agonising sweetness,
an echo of a time when sunbeams
danced off your face,
in twilight dreams, I walk these streets
of past joys and past pains,
tasting the black cherries from your Cupid
fingers
that stained my lips red, a template for your kiss,
the day I dropped anchor in
your heart

It's that time of year again,

The air is warm,
breathing delicate
wisps of breeze
across my skin

I was cold
inside my heart,
shrank and barely
beating

My head is my own
theatre, frames flashed
and frozen, projecting
every still

I try to put the ghosts
to rest, bury them like
bones in a garden

But they wake up,
like vampires,
when the sun sets

Words catch in
my throat, lungs
take in their fill
of air, but there's
not enough oxygen

To feed my brain.

when I yell at you to leave
I am desperately hoping that
you’ll hear the shaking cries of “stay”
hidden beneath my scream

when I pick you up on
every
little
thing

please know that I am only
scrutinising myself over every
mistake
I’ve
ever
made

when I ignore you for days
please know that it is because
I am too busy speaking to the
anxiety that calls myself
her friend

know that I don’t hate you
that I only hate myself

How beautiful the bloom
that blossoms again

wild roses that the winter cannot take

sunflowers refusing to sink into the soil

we look at them, and long

to be

another tulip tempted by the light

but we are weeds

creeping between concrete cracks

waiting to be destroyed
so that beauty

can prevail again

and I think I could settle

for the here and now

if it weren’t for feeling my bones break

under the weight of carrying

the promise of

forever

at night
the gray whispers
of smoke that
weave like ghosts
from the end of
your cigarette
reach my window
and freeze on
the glass like
a handprint
that presses gently
through
my dreams

We are not strangers,
and yet, our names unknown
our lives, unspoken of

we navigate a see of,

first glances,
first dinners,
first dances,

I do not need to know your name,
for it is already woven into my own

I never believed in love at first sight,
I still don’t believe in it

but magic,
bewitching, spellbinding, enchanting
(magic)

I believe in that

I have been

lynched

by love

and sadness

sometimes not knowing the difference

if the difference even matters

I am hanging

by a thread

that is too weak to **** me

but not strong enough to sustain my life

I have eaten rotten fruit

gladly

given into temptation

and now I shall neither die nor life for it

but the thing is

I have never been truly

alive

we are in debt to
the stars

each one carved
with our

initials

sighing our name
out to the

sky

we are children of
the moon

ever chasing its
craters

across an endless
sphere of

silver

My father hated him
at sight

Stolen glances from behind
his crystal whiskey glass

He prefered the last
one

Tall and dark and
strong

A real man

The kind of guy that looks
like he carries photos of
his kids in his wallet

With spare twenties and
condoms

My mother keeps
quiet

I know she liked him
too

But she noticed the bruises
and fat lips

She knows the smell
of pressed powder
over black eyes

I really was her daughter
back then

A broken bone bond
between  her child

She hates that I got
out

That I refused to carry
on their name

She looks at the new guy
whose arms hang over my shoulders

My father smokes cigars
and sighs

Trying to work out if his hands
could make fists

If his knuckles could
smash against my skull

He can't stand to see me
with a man who lets me answer back

A man who gives me his coat
when it's cold

He likes to see a mirror
reflecting back his
brutality

Telling him that his daughter
is safe (in a way) from
the wolves that walk the pages
of fairy tales

I hold
an undying hope
that I will one day
see in the mirror
what you see in
my eyes

The first pill was bitter
and stuck in my throat like lead

I had to force it down,
like swallowing sand

The second pill was sweet
and slipped down like honey

I barely noticed it,
deceptively sugar coated
and innocent

The last pill broke apart
in my mouth, powder on my tongue

I felt every milligram disintegrate
like my life

I swallowed

I swallowed

I swallowed

Autumn hits our hearts
like a wave crashing against
the shore

the dead leaves of love
are falling off the trees

and in the orange canvas
of sorrow we

scatter our secrets
in the soil

to be discovered
in the Spring

Your voice calls in the night

stirring the silence of my cigarettes and coffee

I have not slept in days, for your hauntings

leave me questioning everything

every kiss
every “I love you”
every goodbye

did I mean that last goodbye?

or does my heart still grow under your touch

Old poems are like old photographs
they are a snapshot of who you once were

a memory
an echo of a former self
that cannot be erased

loose and yellowed around the edges
or sealed behind a battered frame

you must take from them what you’ve learnt
and pour it into new, brilliant words

finding words

like pulling teeth

can be unbearably painful

but sometimes

they are merely baby teeth

pathing the way

for something new

to grow

It’s time that I wasn’t
your possession

a coin in your wallet

a doll for you to dress up
and manipulate

into any position you like

I am restless in your collection
of figurines

I crave independence

and a voice
of my own

Love is just a game, you said

and there’s a knack to playing it
that you could never teach me

however hard you tried

but then, winning all the time
would be boring

and at least I never cheated,
or tried to bend the rules

I’m not suggesting you did, my love

but you are are a compulsive gambler,
with a poker face that I have tried to navigate

with kisses,
warm and gentle, playing my own game,
the manipulative tricks of a woman

but failing, always,
to keep you from those jacks and aces

I guess love is really (a) blind

how long can we go on pretending
that we are merely playing

when our hearts are on the table?

It was a lie when they said
that the power to change the world
lied within you

but the ability to transform
the small square of Earth
on which I stand

with a smile

lies within your heart and hands

I have watched a trembling bird
fight for life

it’s nest destroyed
in a man made storm

and as I watched it cling
to each last breath

my heart started to beat faster

as the life drained from it
into me

the forgotten ones move amongst us,
voiceless

shifting shapes in the sand,

faceless ghosts haunting
our early morning cigarettes,

echoing in the hollow chamber of

spite
and lunacy,

we can see them, sometimes,
out of the corner of our eye,

the shadow in the corner of the room,
that we try to blink

away

Stars are pinpricks reflecting
our footprints on the Earth,
in the sky, you can draw rings around them,
lines between them,
to see how you came to stand in one spot,
the route you took to get there,
unlike footprints, they can pass,
unseen on a cloudy night,
you can walk the sky, invisible,
not leaving a single breadcrumb behind you,
you can trick yourself that you will
never be found, but you will,

for pinpricks or footprints,
they always lead home

(whether we want them to or not...)

You said you would die for me,
but dying is easy

I’ve done it every day for years,

stumbling into mornings that move
like treacle,

the night before spent staring blankly
at my computer screen,
or the ceiling,
or the clock,

anything but behind my own eyes,
to the insides of my mind,

dying isn’t being shot in the chest,
or some huge catastrophic event that deafens the world for a moment,

it is small acts of apathy ,
that leave you dizzy and sick,

a kiss that is not returned,
a cold shoulder in the middle
of the night,

so die for me, please,
because I’m tired of killing myself,

trying to love you

A fall

(in love)

comes after

(losing)

all resemblance of pride

you cannot be

(proud)

and

(in love)

love strips you

(bare)

and leaves you

(childlike)

innocent and raw

now I have

(fallen)

and I am a hundred times

(stronger)

for it

there is nothing here
but ashes

and yet we rise
from the dust

building a home
brick by brick

stone by stone

the foundations of our love
our hearts yet to blossom

in full bloom

buds in waiting
flowers in purgatory

but we will unfurl, soon
we will flourish

Looking in your eyes
fills me with nothing but regret

this meeting of hearts,
bleeding and bruised

beaten and burnt

love is nothing but a memory, now

tainted by time,
I thought I could twist

that first kiss, that first touch

scattered ashes of passion, now spent
fated tragedy, misspent youth

a spiral of sorrow
that will never see tomorrow

I walk into headlights

it’s safer that way

I have known it... not

and so I play

by the rules of a game
of archaic fears and victim blaming

I walk into headlights

I walk

I hope

I pray

a car will come my way

(straight in my way)

and I am not blamed

(anymore)

gauge out my eyes
never let me dream

of you again

you’ll only fade away
again anyway

I have shattered love
with clumsy hands

always grasping
for affection
at the cost
of myself

I want to love
fearlessly

but my heart
is timid
from the cracks
it bears

kissing strangers
in the dark
and hoping
it will heal
itself

but it never does

and I live
under the burden
of unrequited love

You illuminate the worst parts of me,
an unforgiving mirror
bouncing off the surface of the moon

but I am a child of moonlight,
I drink starlight for breakfast,
spitting out that bitter reflection, like fire

until it reaches the very edge
of the solar system and kisses
the face of the sun

as it rises

the pit of my stomach
is like the black pit of Hell

they say;
“she eats men like you for breakfast”

but they never say
where they go once they have been

(swallowed)

(un) settling like lava
that has erupted from a volcano of

shame

my belly rounded with regret

I carry the bodies of my enemies,
kicking and screaming, inside me

they will never see daylight,
and I will burn beneath it

curled up in agony,
the price of my insatiable appetite

You hold lies in your hands, like aces

they grow like Chrysanthemums

a word that you learnt to spell, at school

scarred on your memory like a bad trip  

pass me a card,

and I will feed and water it

tend to it daily

in hopes that it may just bloom

into something beautiful

I remember the ivy
that grew in the side
of our first house

year by year, we
watched it shake off
its dead leaves and
tremble, naked through
the winter

in the Spring,
we'd take tea underneath
it, sharing the sugar spoon
like we shared sheets
and secrets

we watched it beat
again, like a heart
restarting, rising after
the fall

the wrought iron
chairs are rusted brown
now, and no-one sits
upon them

we're dead
but breathing,
blood pulsing on

and on

hearts beating backwards

and sugar spoons left
out for the
ants

A clock
that has stopped

years of black dust
clogging up its mechanism

hands that are bound
by unseen hands

an echo of a memory
diluted over time

until it runs like clear water
containing invisible particles
of pain and grief

the clock starts to tick
and I run behind it

always too slow to be part
of its motion

candle wax
and dried tears
velvet ropes
and silver chains
thick, black smoke
that engulfs the heart
twists it into impossible shapes
they speak to me
the bodiless ones, in my head
when the world has gone to bed
conspiring and calculating
condemning and
confining me to their
silver sphere of insanity
where home is nowhere
and nowhere is home

in the depths
of your heart
I found a
home

in the crook
of your neck
I found a
root

in which
to grow
from

like a bud
I remained
tight

until your
touch
awakened
me

the seasons change
the Earth turns
the moon to sun
the stars - undone

the clock ticks
memories dissolve

yet you and I
stand still
upon the sand

as the ocean
moves and
our hearts

revolve

around the single
point of
love

movement, motion, minutes

love is all

the war
she fought
against the
mirror

ceased

when she
saw herself
reflected in
your

eyes

A winter romance,
of frozen fingers wrapped
around hot cocoa with extra
Sugar in cups with Disney
characters and chips along
the rim. Monday mornings
were for promises. we’d
drink less wine and you’d
smoke out in the garden,
where the frost lies on
the grass in a blanket
of ice and
I
Can
Feel
It
feel the chill of that
biting air in the way you
crawl inside me
as if I am hollow
without you
and the way you turn
you head afterwards
(it's the way
we sleep now)

Hell itself does not contain

fire enough for my heart

when my eyes see you

souls soaring into

a twisted wreath

to be laid at

Heaven’s door

I pick lemons from trees
meant for g&t’s
blessed fruit
chemical release
relief from longing
and memory
a slip of something else
and I am dancing with
the demons that would
otherwise destroy me

forbidden fruit,
a sinful piece
quickly devoured,
the rest, now rotting -
amongst the wasps
and weeds

I was tempted
by your apple slice
- smile
your cold snake eyes
charmed me, in chaos

I knew the root to be bitter
and still took the fall


if I am ever an Eve to your Adam,
then I am the Eve of War,
leaving a trail of blood,
like breadcrumbs

to lead me back to you