Sometimes i'd let the wind catch my hair
and reach out a hand to
touch the street lamps as they
flashed past
and sometimes i'd lean back against the leather
seat in silence  
but it was always the same smile
that you gave me as we got out

Sometimes we'd lie and let the small
countless grains fall through
out fingers and try not to
think that it was the minutes
that we had left
and sometimes we'd dive beneath
the waves and get lost
in the foam and resurface
with flowers in our hair
but it was always the same light
that shone in your eyes
either way

Sometimes we'd wake up covered in the
soft blankets and the yellow light
seeping through the breeze and
the gaps in our intwined fingers
and sometimes we'd wake on the polished floor
surrounded by faceless bodies,
crushed bottles and flashing lights,
and it would be the streamers
the got lost in my hair, not your fingers,
but it was always the same words
you said to me as you
opened bleary eyes

And sometimes i think you never change because
this is all you ever wanted in all your
dizziest daydreams
but Sometimes i think i was wasting my time
believing that this wasn't your
worst nightmare and that it
was because your new
words are whispered in
someone else's ear

i was going through old papers
and i found things i had scrawled
ages ago, now.
endless lines about you, you, you.
but now, looking through the messy words,
i can't even remember
who you are anymore

you assume that you radiate
power
when you walk down the halls with them
begging at your feet
but, darling, you seem to have forgotten
quantity
can never compete with
quality

you think that you can get to me,
hurt me
with your sideways looks;
half glances
and carrying whispers
maybe you can
and maybe sometimes
i will go home with red eyes
and swollen cheeks

but you can't continue watering
dead flowers
and so in time when i have
come home and
condemned you to the ends of the earth
i will remember that there
is still someone who cares about me
enough to talk about
nothing and everything for hours
as we lie
on the cold metal slabs of the
veranda roof
and to waste their 11:11 wishes
on me
and although they might not have
the prettiest of faces,
their heart is oh so much bigger
and warmer than yours
will ever be
and the way they make others smile
so much that their
cheeks ache
is so much more beautiful
than the brightest star
and their soul is embroidered
in intricate patterns
with the fine white stitching
that the sun has turned the
warmest yellow
and yours hasn't even sewn
with the darkest of
black threads
and so then the sun will never even
be able to turn them
a lighter shade of
grey

and for that i pity you,
that your heart is darker than
the oldest and loneliest tombstone
in a forgotten graveyard

and when we're floating on our
yellow strings
we will watch you blunder
in the darkness
feeling around unseeing for
the blunt needle
with the short black thread
barely attached
so you might stitch yourself
back up
but its already rolled away
to the furthest corner
and is now being covered in layer upon layer
of dust
and when you look up from your
wishing well
hoping that someone will choose you as their
11:11 wish
so that you will be able to sew your
way out
of your cold and forgotten well
but you wait and wait
in vein
and i feel sorry for you
for you have no one who
cares enough
to thread your needle
for you
and cover your heart in
yellow stitching
or close their eyes even for the shortest
milliseconds
and wish on your star
which was never shining very brightly
in the first place.

for a while she missed you. she would walk
through the corridors
with her head bowed over her endless scrolls
of meaningless words
and at lunchtimes she would disappear, but you
wouldn't even notice
when she returned with tear tracks glowing
on her swollen cheeks.
and sometimes you would catch her eye but never
notice how red they were
or how she would let her hair fall over her face when
she looked away.

And then, slowly,
she stopped greeting you with a smile
in the mornings.
she stopped glancing up from her books
to catch your eye.
and when you had your arm slung
around someone else
she didn't frown like before but
smiled and carried on
and you notice how  she used to
be black and white
but now whenever she laughs with
her head thrown back, she
shines with colour.
and when she leans her head on someone
else's shoulder
and gives them a smile in the mornings that
used to be for you
you regret only seeing her as a dull star
that you hardly noticed
when she saw you as the brightest galaxy
that lit up her universe
but now to her you're just another piece of plain sky
in the jigsaw puzzel
of her life, and he is now the one who makes her world
brighter than the biggest star
and you regret letting someone go so easily,  
when they saw you in
such a light that no one would ever see you
in again