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

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

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

Star shaped bullets

fired from the night sky’s rifle

murdering the sins of daylight

what must never be seen under the sun

destroyed in a passionate blaze

star shaped bullets

footprints on the moon

our kisses and confessions

will all be over soon

Do not compare me to a summer’s day

for I am a storm

incoming

ready to consume everything in my path

your heart included

I am not subtle, sweet or warm

I am fierce, loud, overwhelming

I will devour your

soul

and leave it singing only

for me

the evening rain
gently washes the scars
that hum like a wire
under the moonlight

we are rooted forever
with one foot in yesterday
and the other shaking
with agitated anticipation

not knowing it’s next move
preparing to take
a leap of faith into

tomorrow

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

It’s hard to believe that a heatwave
has such a chill in the air,
the wind that carries a whisper
of your memory,
distorted now and distant

have I forgotten you on purpose?
is forgetting easier than remembering
how much I loved you
how much I miss you

Is denial my friend?
Washing away your name
as if it were the sea and I had
drawn it in the sand

the heat makes the flowers
wilt before their time
and I cannot bare to see it
to see you in a rose petal,
brown and withered

deny, forget, erase

but I cannot forget
the flaws and imperfections in you
that taught me how to be human

because I am flawed now,
scrambling in the dark
like a child lost in a maze

there is nothing I can do
to honour you enough
to thank you enough

forgetting is a pretty poor way
of repaying you
but I have to survive
I have to survive

because I am breaking
otherwise

forever, they say

you will not feel this way, forever

and I try, with every breath in my lungs,
to believe them

with every fibre of skin
on my bruised and beaten body

but I realise that I have already had
my chance at breaking free from
the shackles of sadness

this is it, I think

that ship sailed before
I even knew it was possible
for me to board it

and now, there is not even
the flicker of a candle light
at the end of the tunnel

hope has been squeezed from me
like the juice from a lemon
leaving only the bitter pips
for me to spit out

I realise, too late that
I am forever

forever lives through me

In a cage
sits a bird
whose wing
is broken

yet it’s heart
is whole
and it’s
song heavy

with sweet melodies
and soft tones
of longing

It is the song of freedom

that it sings despite
never knowing
and never hoping
to see

Your daffodil kisses
blow off the snowy
remnants of winter
and a spring starts to blossom
in my heart

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

I am the ghost of poetry past

that cringe in your chest as you skim through words you once thought barred your soul
but now only shame it

that lump in your throat
as you try not to cry over a cliched metaphor
you used when you were sixteen and riddled with angst

you may think I am only here
to hurt and embarrass you

but actually,
I am the best teacher you’ll ever have

I will allow you to learn from what
now looks like shattered prose

I will allow you to grow from the imagery
you didn’t get quite right

and when poetry future calls,
she will bare gifts of words of wonder

that were only made possible
through listening to me

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

I want to make you cry, he said;

not by breaking your heart,

but by showing you the beauty
that you hold behind your eyes,

that I see every time
I look at you,

that I know you cannot see
for yourself

we are free birds, they say

yet we will never forget
the cages we were once trapped in

singing between silver bars,
hoping our song would reach
the world beyond our prison

well, it reached you

but I still sing
so that you may always be reminded
that whilst you’ve found me, and released me

I am not a free bird
I am merely a caged bird, set free

the war
she fought
against the
mirror

ceased

when she
saw herself
reflected in
your

eyes

this is my deliverance,
away from the torture, away from the pain
that you inflicted on my body and mind

not a day passes when I don’t think
of the way you grabbed me from normality,
from safety, from peace

a day when I don’t remember
the agony of you forcing yourself
into my body, my heart, my soul

but this is goodbye, farewell to the days
of the constant nightmares,
the fear, the shame

I am my own salvation,
digging deep inside to find
the courage to heal

to let the soothing balm of love
rub over my skin again

you are nothing and I am going to
rise from the ashes to be something

magnificent

a love letter written in fire

across a midnight sky

daughters of the moon

hands locked -
the brightest constellation

a secret that only the stars can tell

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.

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

I have been here
a hundred times,
where the walls shake
and shrink around
us. oceans. woods.
and skies spinning
out of reach. out
of control but
destiny has it's
own map and
words that
weep like ink
black. bleeding.
where do the
trees end? the
leaves that rip
beneath my
feet. and I am
the air. the soil.
the orange red
flame that dances
from branch to
branch. spreading.
smoking. choking.
devouring.

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

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 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

what are the stars

except pinpricks in the sky

for each lover we have lost

each heart we weren’t able to tame

each soul our song didn’t reach

what are the stars

but permanent reminders of

our failures

We plunge into the heart of December,

its cold tendrils wrap around our hearts,
squeezing out the life the summer breathed

into us

we are nothing but a dark, dead *****,
a puppet of winter,

waiting for a New Year’s Eve firework

to ignite a spark of life

back into

us

The stars were just lights in the sky
until you became one of them,
burning memory in the midnight sky

memories that I took to bed
and hid beneath my pillow
because they too

burnt my fingertips every time
I dared touch one,

how can one shine
so beautifully bold outside,
and inside be so deeply buried beneath
layers of regret, shame and grief?

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

She warned me against falling freely
into the arms of strangers,
but I would always run, head first, into them

going from catastrophe to catastrophe,
heartbreak to heartbreak,
I learnt quickly how unkind and cruel
strangers could be,

but there were a few,
a glimmering, shining few,
amongst them,

who healed my wounds with whispers of
“you’re safe now”

and held me tightly,
not so that I couldn’t breathe,

but so that I knew my breath
would always be met by
another’s

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

call me anything you like

to justify your lies

words are your weapon

but darling,

the truth is mine

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

it was not difficult to love you,

like an antelope that had
outran a lion

I breathlessly fell into your arms,

safely wrapped up in the
folds of your skin,

complete in that moment
of contentment,

I loved you,

I left the evidence - my fingerprints
on your spine,

tracing my name in
chilli flake fire

rings

where we sat our coffee mugs down
as we watched the rain

fall,

each drop cementing another second
that I would spend by your side,

it was not difficult to love you
as I had never loved anyone,

as I had never loved
myself

In the smoke of your cigarette

I saw everything that could ever be

and everything that never would

and it took my breath away

the earth is choking to death

and we breathe our last breath

as the smoke consumes our lungs

desperate for one last kiss

amongst the fumes

your feelings
are from thrift
shops and flea
markets

second hand and
well worn

frayed around
the edges

a hole in the sleeve

a hand me down
heart

how can I believe
anything you
say

as truth

when the same
words were
once kept

on a letter
close to the
chest of the

girl before

perfume covers the smoke
tantalising fumes that rise
and then fall
my head, left dizzy
and breathless
as I gasp in the
poisonous air
another night spent
curled around the
wrong reality
dimensions that shift around me
as I move about my day
ink on paper, stripped wood beneath my feet
the foundations of a place that is not tainted
with the harsh cruelties of here
honeysuckle covers the smoke
the sweet root of home
when my heart longs to stay
with pure belonging
and contentment
but it never lasts
and once again i am
forced to wake up
and live in a world
that was never meant
for my multifaceted
heart

these fingers can weave magic
these lips can utter spells

but only you have the potion which I drink
as if dying of thirst

that transforms my heart into a quivering bird

desperately seeking it’s voice
to sing it’s song of freedom

holy water, holy wine
your touch comes as a Holy Trinity

a beginning
a middle and
an end

let us not say goodbye, just yet
let us just wait for the potion
to settle in my stomach
one last time

I drink wine from the cup
that’s meant for God
and I do not feel ashamed
at the taking of something
sacred, for animalistic
need

my girlhood unravels like wool,
coarse, that unwanted touch  
stinging my skin,

a wasps nest, kicked alive
swarming all over me,

but these stings will not scar me,

I will grow new skin,
a shroud of flesh that has not
known the prickle of unwanted fingers tips

I will rise from the ashes of your depravity
like a Phoenix, born again

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

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

I follow the arteries from your wrist

to the centre of your heart

and nestle my head into your neck

following the breadcrumbs of memories

and stolen minutes of bliss

I have found my way home

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

Like a blade of steel
is my shame

for those words said
throat wet with whiskey

tongue dancing out
a pattern of pain

to rip into your chest

at the end of the day
it was my fault

I live with the regret
of losing you

over a careless,
drunken slip

and sometimes I feel like
that blade of shame

will pierce my heart
and **** me

and I’d deserve it

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

after the storm,
the sky grows clearer

and

the ocean waves roll over
to a new beginning

You pour boiling water over
my words and try to wash them away

but, my love, I can’t be erased

I’m in your blood, your bones, your skin

your hair will smell of me

I am a permanent marker
stamped on your heart

claiming you with an
acid burn

(my words were merely pilot fish)