You don't know your own strength
I don't think
you don't know how my head went calm
when I heard your heartbeat plummeting through your chest
you don't know how safe I felt
to be wrapped up in your arms
or how happy
to be listening to your nonsensical, drug addled talk
you didn't feel the current, the electric
when the tips of your fingers met me
or the caution I took when moving closer into you
or the breath that hitched when your eyes met mine
you don't know your own strength
when it comes to me

I'm going back to that
                                 dark
                                      place
                ­                          again

My favourite part of new years
was wandering out into the streets
at 10 minutes past midnight
in a daze of champagne, ***** and lemonade
and peering up into a clear night's sky
and I swear I have never seen that many stars in one place
I watched them
with the background laughter of my drunken friends
discussing tales and myths of what each constellation meant
but who needs tales and myths
or science and maths
when you have bright eyes to see a world so completely beautiful
so complex and so magnificent?
Those stars rained down on my face
such that not even Van Gogh could paint their swirling bloom
such that Shelley and Keats could not write down their metallic romance
only I know that moment

1) ''You need to put her on a diet, she looks hideous.''
2) ''You're the only person who asked if I was okay.''
3) ''You're not her, though.''
4) ''I'm going to **** you, one day.''
5) ''You'll never look pretty with those scars.''
6) ''She loves me, and I don't think you ever did.''
7) ''Do it lengthways next time.''
8) ''Don't speak to me again.''
9) ''Sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving.''
10) ''My daughter has ruined my life.''
11) ''It's okay, I'm used to it.''
12) ''You made me feel not so hopeless for a while.''
13) ''I know you liked him but he didn't like you.''
14) ''We're together, but I still want to be your friend.''
15) ''It was a mistake.''
16) ''I really like him. I like you too, though.''
17) ''Nice scars.''
18) ''Thanks, I like having a friend who's a girl.''
19) ''I could be surrounded by people and still feel alone.''
20) ''Who are you?''
21) ''Sorry, I don't remember.''
22) ''I feel like white noise and background.''
23) ''We didn't want to hurt you.''
24) ''I love her, I don't know why.''
25) ''I never understood why you stayed, when all they did was hurt you.''
26) ''No one's ever loved you, have they?''
27) ''You're all I have now.''
28) * silence

Not quite auburn hair
amongst the tiny daisy plants
beautiful smile
my God you're beautiful
now you're laughing and smoking
****, you're beautiful.

So now tell me how your story goes.
Have you ever suffered?
If so, did you get better or have you never quite recovered from it?
Tell me what your worst fears are
I bet they look a lot like mine.
Tell me what you think about when you can’t fall asleep at night.
Tell me that you’re struggling.
Tell me that you’re scared.
No,
Tell me that you’re terrified of life.
Tell me that it’s difficult to not think of death sometimes.
Tell me how you lost.
Tell me how he left.
Tell me how she left.
Tell me how you lost everything that you had.
Tell me that it ain’t ever coming back.

You're a tree
you're a beautiful mahogany tree
you can wave your branches when the wind allows you
you can shed your leaves and grow some more
you can breathe your love to those who surround you
but rest assured
they'll cut you down

Now you're a human
you're a beautiful human being
you can wave your hands when society allows you
you can change yourself into something more
you can share your love to those who surround you
but those people
*they'll still tear you down.

Dearest wildflower grinning
With powdered crooked teeth
And hair incandescent and strange
I write you this as though it were my last.
Follow me into the Holocene
And the night ghosts will not wither your grinning soul
Your blue eyes dance away
Your iris discoloured and grey
Never has indigo seemed so violent
And Auburn hair seem so opaque
And strong tongues seemed so silent.
During Berlin nights
And blanched London days
I'm forever burning in your flames.

Dearest wildflower grinning
With powdered crooked teeth
And hair incandescent and strange
I write you this as though it were my last.
Follow me into the Holocene
And the night ghosts will not wither your grinning soul
Your blue eyes dance away
Your iris discoloured and grey
Never has indigo seemed so violent
And Auburn hair seem so opaque
And strong tongues seemed so silent.
During Berlin nights
And blanched London days
I'm forever burning in your flames.

Suggest I peruse the science of love
experiment, manipulate and spoil
Suggest I strap wires to your heart
and monitor its beat

Suggest I study your eyes
will your pupils act as a looking glass
and will I see me in your rose tinted iris'?

Suggest I swab your hands
to see who has had the privilege to hold them
who isn't me

Suggest I test your lips
for a tongue that has lingered long enough
to be considered concern to me

Suggest I peruse the science of love
would my conclusion be worthwhile?

Or, suggest I not tamper with the nature of attraction
'Tout ce qui sera sera'
love me in the fate of the heart
or indeed
do not love me at all

Drink up baby,
stay up all night
with the things you could do
you won't, but you might
the potential you'll be, that you'll never see
the promises you'll only make

Drink up with me now
and forget all about
the pressures of days
do what I say
and I'll make you okay,
drive them away
the image is stuck in your head

The people you've been before
that you don't want around anymore
that push, and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still

Drink up baby
look at the stars
I'll kiss you again
between the bars
where I'm seeing you there
with your hands in the air
waiting to finally be caught

Drink up one more time
and I'll make you mine
keep you apart
deep in my heart
separate from the rest
but I like you the best
keep the things you forgot

The people you've been before
that you don't want around anymore
that push, and shove and won't bend to your will
*I'll keep them still

I heard him cry that night
lithe and crystalline petals
they were beautiful
and so was he

But a gun is not beautiful
or a rope
or a glistening knife
(it glistens wild with crimson and ivory)
put it down
step away
catch your breath and seize the day
you are so beautiful
and so is she

Go, look in her eyes
those ghostly blue
those pure ****** pools
taste her smile
touch her hand
you are so beautiful
she knows
so put it down
step away
catch your breath and seize the day

You and her are galaxies, dear
beautiful
you and she
so put it down
step away
catch your breath and seize the-

The door is red
the floor is red
the walls are red
my life is dead
you are dead
and so beautiful
so ******* beautiful.

I'll close the door.

Cathy, don't go in the bedroom.

You're like that song I love
but it's in the wrong pitch for me to sing

The way of painting I could
never quite grasp

The prettiest word that won't
roll off my tongue coherently

The ring I always lose

All the things I want to bask in
but just can't understand

The sun I can't stare into.

I've tried making friends with Death
on many a dark and crimson night
I would lay in my folly
and watch as Death made his plight.
Stealing children
and mothers
and the souls of the old
watching their chamber rooms
turn murky, chilly and cold

But alas, Death does not need friends
he has told me many a time
but perhaps if Death had a hand to hold
he would not take the hands of the strong,
maybe, he'd take mine.

Death, why do you leave me here?
Why can I not join you tonight?
When you leave, you give no reason
you brush me off, and disappear
into the silvery concaves of the light.

Death, I have touched your scythe
and I want it to graze my neck
I see no future for myself here
only mist and clouds appear in your oubliette.

Death, you are beautiful
your Alabaster flesh crawls in my mind
why does no one else love you, Death?
you are perfect in my eyes.

When you stop choosing the ones who hate you
and make friends with the ones who love you, Death
then maybe
all the souls here around you
can learn to find peace when you lead them to rest.

The demonic and turbulent truths of the mind
Will crush me in the end
Not least the nighttide's narcissistic vow
Into darkness I descend
Where the black pearl gates of tar-pit Hell
Will know the grief I send
In here I'm birthed
In sunken Earth
To greet my only friend

blue jeans
white shirt
walked into the room you know
you made my eyes burn

so kiss me hard before you go

And why
is it shameful for a suicide to be fuelled by love?
why is love not good enough for you?
do you know the heartbreak behind love?
the stabbing pain deep inside your stomach when you see the one you love
embracing another
the pressure to be perfect
the loss of passion
the gain of boredom
the desperation when you feel them slipping through your fingers
the harshness of a reality without them
a reality so pure and plain that it seems useless to live there
to carry on without them
because in the end, what are we without love?
mindless, heartless, broken, bland.
don't you dare tell me that love is not enough
the sadness of a broken heart, is enough to send anybody
toppling over the edge.
slipping away.

Do I look okay in this bag of skin?
Does it make my stomach look fat, or my hips too thin?
Do I burn your eyes in my porcelain dress?
Should I trade it for one that you less detest?
I shan't ask again if I look okay
I couldn't undress myself anyway

There are beasts in my garden
soulless garden
dark and deep whimsical garden
full of your violent delights.

And the dragonflies
that drown inside your guts
they don't care if they're hurting you
they are big and bold and lighting struck
like your eyes on a Sunday
wired into me
choking me

The eyes that live forever in my garden
your eyes in my soulless garden

Every ***** in paradise
flocks to you my love
sippin' on that alcohol
oh
you're a cheap dime store drug
but they gotta have you
spilling outta their veins
you got that emotional loving, babe
you got them all in your brain

Whistle while you're working on 'em
and they got tar and love in their lungs
you're still knocking back that whiskey
and they're all living off ***
oh, emotional loving babe
what's a girl gonna do
they crave that emotional loving
but all I crave is you

*******
and your cigarette tinted laughter
*******
and your unbearably soft lips
your deep chocolate
doe eyed stare
and perfectly rounded *******
*******
and the auburn haze when the sun hits your head
**** your mouth
when you said you only really loved one girl
me
and **** this morning when you told me
that you loved her
your girlfriend
*******
for the time I made my lips sore
from kissing all your scars
and the time I sang you Elliott Smith
******* for making me ******
******* for making me want you
******* for walking me home
******* for leaving me there
******* because I don't mean a word I'm saying

Her mind's divine
her shaken soul will shine
in the first hour of midnight
her moon will surely shatter
her body's bruised and battered
she is the tranquil rain
she is the bearer of pain
she is the harsh December
and the only star I will ever remember
she is my broken bones
and my journey home
she is my one eternal
my callous and cruel orchestral
my final hour
my infinite meteor shower
she is my song awoken
my word unspoken
and everything I want to say
that I dreamt of yesterday
she is the grace in my lungs
blossoming as my youth falls young

What's beneath the cosmos?
Whose heart is within the moon?
And in the intersperse universe
does the sun burn a sky in June?

Is there love on other planets?
Are there creatures with hands to hold?
Do stars glow bright
with love and light
or are their hearts all silver and cold?

You might have never been in this world
if a second had fallen through
and this universe may lay in a cosmic womb
so, I'm glad my own is filled with you

''Girls only like *******.''
I grimace at those words
as I happily take the compliments
laced with sexuality
bestowed upon me by some guy with good cheekbones,
who practices his lines.
I hate that he gives me butterflies.

I try and replicate that fluttering feeling
with the guy who's nervously stumbling over
the dorky love letters from his heart.
I know he's sincere,
unpractised,
And I'm made guilty for cringing at his face.
(It's slimy
I'm sorry.)

But you were awkward
and nervous
and oh so uncalm
you had a little extra weight and a grin you despise
and I love,
and your words were all scribbled on notebook paper
with lines covering every time you
underestimated the blue in my eyes
(you needed better ways to describe.)
But you gave me more than butterflies
I was in love with the ''nice guy''
so why'd you leave my side?

Letting go of you
was the hardest thing I've done
staying there was worse

I don't take sleeping pills
I drink a glass of wine
I smack my arm and fill my veins
just to pass the time

And then I'm rolling down the hills
and then I roll a joint
a smile is painted on my face
for a life without a point

I ****** by an empty fireplace
and she was cold and ill
she cried that she would catch her death
so I burnt my heating bill

I ring up all my women
write letters to my men
invite them all into my bed
then make them leave again

I go out every Saturday
for whiskey and motel *****
sometimes scotch and virgins
who weep when I give them up

When I'm dry on rizla leaves
I'll smoke Corinthians 4-7
because I don't know of any love
to get me into heaven

******* keeps me up at night
but I get off on pressure
soon I'll be back for my ***** queen
and my life of simple pleasure

By crimson candlelight
she's awoken
lissom and lithe
and softly spoken
the smallest shadow of a girl
cracked inside the cavities of the world

I left her sleeping in willows and reeds
but she's still dancing in my dreams
all tangled hair and braided spine
I'd tether the stars to call her mine

My flowers wilted and my summers cold
she'll stay like spring when the months grow old
I wish for her hands to be close to mine
and I wouldn't let her leave this time

I could never see her go
she stays in spring, before the snow
I watch her dance while I'm alone
in a light
far brighter than I'd ever known

My home is not where my heart is
I have no home at all
I have a box made out of bricks
I have some ceilings and some walls
I have curtains, I have windows
I have carpets on some floors
I have tables, I have chairs
I have handles on some doors

But I don't have any comfort
there is a lack of ease
A ''home'' is one that's caring
with warmth against a breeze

I am alone in my box of bricks
with the distant sound of pain
with the ghostly sound of memories
and the drumming beat of rain

I am grateful for these things
but it's a house, and nothing more
For if there is no love to fill it
then it's not a home at all

It all started when I was four
and it came with boys holding buttercups beneath girl's chins
and chasing in endless circles
and my skirt was a little too long
and my face was a little too round
to chase them too

I started sitting indoors and painting scenes
'cause I couldn't run like the other girls could
but four year old boys don't like brushes and  blue skies
they like little girls with flushed rosy cheeks

And when I was six
I couldn't sit inside anymore
it was time to go out and face the boys that called me fat
and try to be a rosy cheeked little girl too
but I just got flustered when I heard the laughter

But at least kids are honest
and I knew I was not wanted

By the time I reached nine
I kept my eyes glued to the ground
when I stood with my mother and listened
to my grandfather drop poison into her ears
and told her that her daughter was a monster
and that's why I didn't cry at his funeral

But at least he was honest
and I knew I was not wanted

Things changed when I turned eleven
self-loathing stayed the same
but the new boys were all skinny compared to me
and they did not hesitate to point it out
although quietly
and subtly
more awash with gasps from choking back revolting laughter
that got caught in the back of my throat and turned to tears
I never did cry in public

And the way I walked through the halls was a carefully crafted way
to make myself smaller
but they still plucked me out and told me
'You're so pretty'
(laced with sarcasm)
'Be my girlfriend'
(prolonged by a smirk)
I always kept my mouth shut

And at least kids are honest
at least I always knew I was not wanted

By age fifteen I was so obsessed with mirrors
that I carried one in my hand at all times
I'd tried every makeup technique I could find
and my mother was sad that my blonde curls were gone
now straight and brown to fade into the background
I never knew why this attracted boys
but for once I was glad I looked like everybody else

I was hearing 'you're so pretty' with a genuine tone
from boys who flirted for fun
but I didn't understand
and I thought I was special
and I thought I would marry every one who called me pretty
and we'd have three children and a dog

What I didn't understand was why every night ended with tears
because I was finally feeling the way all the rosy-cheeked girls did
but maybe it was because kids are honest
I preferred to know when I wasn't really wanted

When I was 16 I felt like a woman
because I'd had a history with boys who were *******
and this is how I thought womanhood should be
every night I rubbed three years of makeup from my face
and removed my push-up bra
and said goodnight to the boy that made my heart skip
and woke up the next morning knowing I would be ignored

I wished people would just be honest

At seventeen, I fell in love with a man
who called me his little girl
and made me feel like the rosy cheeked child
I always watched and envied
I fell in love with the way he threatened to leave me when I forgot something
and the way he slapped me
and I fell in love with how he taught me that it was okay for me to be *****
in every sense of the word
because I was the tiny little girl
with the skirt just short enough
and the cheeks just red enough
to be wanted

You see friends
I have pondered
for a multitude of time
of how love goes stale
and people drift away from what was once so pure

It's intimacy, isn't it?
You push the lovers together
so close that they see the cracks of skin
and the unsightly hairs
and the moles
and the stretch marks
and the unwelcomed halitosis

Remember when that person was made of stars?
When they bathed in oceans of milk and ate flowers
and their skin was made up of shredded moon
when you loved them from a distance
and couldn't wait to touch them
and possess them

Well now you do
and your dream is real
how does that feel?

I think that's how love goes stale.

Three months ago
I cut
I cut until my veins ran dry
I cut until my skin turned white
I cut until my sheets were black
And all the world fell back

Today, this day
I cut once more
I cut until my legs were sore
I cut until my eyes weren't green
I cut until my soul felt clean
I cut until I collapsed
Never thought I would relapse

Today I ventured out of the house
for the first time in seven days
there were cuts on my feet as I broke in new shoes
and the wind blew my hair out of place

Christmas lights still danced in the Sunday sky
I was but a watcher of the crowds passing by
until I saw you
no
heard you
and your gentle guitar
you played Simon and Garfunkel (whom I love)
on that gentle guitar

I sat and watched you
for a minute or two
and you caught glimpses of me
and I was writing about you
you had auburn hair and a dazzling smile
and your voice made the December winds seem worthwhile

As I was writing, the song fell away
and you packed up your things and left
and I regret that I forgot to say
how much I loved the song you sang
and your auburn hair and smile
and how you made the harsh December winds seem so worthwhile

I don't give enough to take back what I own
my stories are told out of broken homes
I could be a bit better if I **** off this ghost
I'm alone.

I bleed from the inside,
and I won't tell anyone
I'm nowhere to find,
but I couldn't care it all.
Live like a ghost to keep me from talking, til' you notice where I'm at,
'cause I couldn't care at all.

Nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run to when nobody listens.
I'm just a liar that's tired of trying
I'll pick myself apart cause I couldn't care at all.

I'm sick, I'm sick of waiting.

Don't bite the hand that feeds you*
the Sun hisses at the man
spitting the strongest rays of hatred
as he conceivably can

But on Earth, man does not listen
and he wastes the world away
laughing with his light bulbs
whilst the brightest fades to Grey

In the winter you will lie
soul beguiled and rested eye
deathly dreams that dream to die
In the dead of dusk

In December you will sleep
Stowed away the dreams you keep
The sea inside you, swirling deep
In the dead of dusk

Daytime thoughts of innocence
happiness and diligence
follow you to requiem
In the dead of dusk

Lightest thoughts on surface, you
forget about what's real
what's true
until the dusk envelops you
that dead and demon dusk

Now Winter's winds are calling you
shadows cast on what is true
white cat, now black cat
sun now moon
in the dead of dusk

Everything you thought you knew
sleep will twist and mangle you
nightmares creep inside of you
in the dead of dusk

Morning follows
sun rises up
nightmares dangle on the cusp
disappear now,
Twelve hours burn up
then drag you down
back to the dead of dusk

Today I am consumed by perpetual guilt, largely dominated by the fact I am a hopeless romantic who does not conform to general 21st century ideals of what a good looking woman entails.

Much to my misfortune, I do not have curves in places which would appeal to anybody's tastes. Every day I become increasingly grateful for clothes which hang in such a way which forgive and mask my treacherous, pale carcass. I do not belong to a culture which allows me to obscure my face into hiding, so I am forced to cause suffering to whoever witnesses my bruise framed eyes and morbidly shaped nose at a time when I do not care to improve it.

Night time is filled with intrusive thoughts, and the biggest fear of all; who will lie in bed with me and endure my scar littered skin, my insulting body, and myself, starved and drained of self-worth?
One thing is certain: If I was anyone other than myself, I sure wouldn't.