back and forth the
pendulum swings like those
playground kids
at midnight

me and him
dark moons and orangey
streetlights
his shirt

my frozen frame
he pushes me
and i swing
back and forth

like his drug habits
back and forth and i am thrown
into time
headfirst then backwards

and i see him, all of him
his childhood, his happiness
his trauma
all coming together to create

one chaotically beautiful human being

and as i swing i mention
my childhood, my happiness
my trauma
and he calls it fascinating

calls me a beautiful tragedy
and back and forth we swing.

i tattooed a heart
on my wrist
to remind me of you
and how you stole
my love from off my sleeve
so i never let it happen again.

mary jane has taken you away from me
you're so obsessed with the sensation
of breathing her in
it seems you have forgotten the feeling
of my lips, my hair, my embrace
in place of what you perceive as a better
lover.

mary jane has taken you away from me.
the people who love could never
love as intensely as she
caresses your senses, changes the tense
in which you think
do you think about me at all anymore?

all i ever wanted

was for your face

to light up when you saw me.

like my heart when i hear your name.

instead, i sit at home and

cry about how you do not love me

i say its a shame

but the real shame is

that i am not surprised

for if even i cannot love myself,

why would you love me?

another november creeps in at the corners, and her omission of modesty has once again amazed me. the trees cry, golden tears that tesselate under my toes, cloaking the concrete in earthy hues that might fool you into thinking humanity had never touched this realm of benevolent bliss.
But it has, for this metropolis is full of foolery, of factories and fame,
all of which have obnoxiously trampled every square inch of the woodlands which once ran riot over the distant, deserted hills.
Mists of fine floods hang now, like a veil in the haze of a rainy wedding day.
There is thunder in the eyes of the untamed, the flesh and blood whose dwellings have been disturbed by savage, civilised society.

I am tired of trying
The old you can’t be cloned
I am sick of crying
And watching you get ******
I am through with lying
Oh, I heard you when you groaned
I am not replying.

I am done with darling
The sweetness has been framed
and it’s quite alarming
To see what has decayed.

from a mile away
i could love you
in the distance
a soft focus version
of your harsh being.

from across the road
or down the stream
i could love you
cry you a river of
romance, to match
the momentum of
your fist.

from down the stream
i could love you
run away from you
as fast as the current
flows, fast enough to dry
the blood sweat and tears
you have caused me.

from the fire escape of a
city i could love you
but you're the fire that I
am always within an inch
of, the cigarette burns on my stomach
prove it.

I cut all my hair off yesterday.
8 inches of golden rays gone.
The blunt ends now sit upon my collarbones.
it’s softer.
I like it.

Don't forgive his crimes just
because he can kiss them better.
I see his stained hands
every time I close my eyes.
I can’t escape the whispered lies,
they ring in my ears like a constant-
Hush! You wouldn’t want them to hear us.

I still feel his hands wrenching my wrist.
Remember how I wished his grip
Would loosen, if only a little.
Thought of the tenderness love
Was supposed to connote,
as the blood dripped persistently
into my throat.

It was then that I realized.
With nothing left in me,
that anything is better than
Being worshipped, forcibly.

you were toffee to my teeth
initially tasted so sweet
soon sickly, twisted and knotted
to my soul you
stuck and rotted

This week I have wandered.
alone, a lost ghost among my regular haunts.
from the coffee shop in the park to the icy edge of the ocean I strayed,
Then returned to the warm yellow windows of my family home.
My hair is a mess, hasn’t been washed and left in a low tuft, at the nape of my neck, twined together with a green satin ribbon.

This week I have wandered.
Alone, a lost ghost among my regular haunts,
from the kitchen I crawled back to the warmth of my solitary sanctuary.
And there I stayed, as normal, in my navy knee length sweatshirt and joggers.

And now, as I sit in my single bed, pale back against the radiator, the tears finally come.

they ask how they can help me.

oh lord, i wish i knew.

she is lovely, she is kind

and i crave to paint the creases of her smile

in lilacs, and roses and wind

daisies through her halo hair

rays of sun do not compare to the presence

of Elora.

why do you yell?
why do you say these horrible things
because you love me?
because i could never get anyone else to love me.
and i storm down the stairs and
crawl into my bed
covering my head
and i cry.
i cry waterfalls into rivers into lakes
while my mother strokes my hair
and i love her but i need her to leave
but i am scared of what will happen
if i am alone.
so i try to sleep, but i choke
everytime i lay down and each
morning i wake up with marks on my
cheeks.
breathing quickens as i remember
what happened the night before
and how i am too afraid to open my
bedroom door.
i consider the window.
consider the faulty lock.
consider walking to His house at 2am.
he is the only one i can count on.
but i cannot worry my brother like that
and my mother would be distraught
i want fresh air
and water
but i do not ever want to eat again.
the sight makes me sick.
I want to wander away from this forsaken house
to somewhere better.
but is the grass ever greener?
because at this moment it feels like every blade is
dried and dying.
feels like thunderstorms and rain clouds but not
the exciting kind.
the terrible,
melancholic,
cursed kind.
the compressing kind
the depressing kind.
the kind that makes you want to jump off a ******* bridge
but the water's freezing.
the kind that provokes earthquakes.
i don't even know what kind means anymore because
the only one who shows me
i have not seen since april.
think of how lucky you are,
warm house, family, friends,
but they wouldn't feel ******* lucky if they stepped inside my head.
if they knew how many flowers crumbled up and turned to dust
at my touch or if they knew what it was like to have
no clue who you are.

i can't even ******* breathe anymore.

i stare at the person in front of me in the morning.
tell them i hate them.
tell them they're ugly.
too fat.
too thin.
they're disgusting.
a disgrace to the human race.
worthless.
asking for it.
i stare at the person in front of me in the evening.
stare at the cool glass,
and she cries out
please,
you've got to be kinder to me.

my hair is too short
too short to tie up
too long to be free
too tangled to love

my face is too sad
too sad to be bright
too red to be snow
too pale to be light

my hands are too weak
too weak to point out
too small to hold
too tired to scout

My skin is too soft
Too soft to be smooth
Too rough to be felt
Too broken to move

I surely saw an angel,
For a solid space in time.
I surely heard her singing,
For a love she longed to find.
I surely felt a silken hand,
Brush tenderly with mine.
I surely saw an angel once,
Before she fell in line.

Suddenly there’s blackest joy,
Filling every vein.
I sing of luck and liberty
That’s quickly stripped away.
My touch is dark and fever some
Infecting every day.
I surely saw an angel once,
She has slowly slipped away.

there is a terrible pain
an aching waking dragon
writhing inside
At her name

there is a terrible fright
A devastated, hatred
which arises
At her sight

A terrible fear
Much deeper, the reaper
Has come
For me.

and I would call you my Heathcliff,
but I am no Catherine.

You were a complex character
before I made my impact,
I cannot claim to have caused your
wounds, nor to have healed your heart,
But for the time we had,
I hope I brought you some small,
( however small)
amount of joy, or at least
rest,
from the wicked souls who tormented you
That now reside in a shadow behind your smile.

And yes, in a way I suppose I have the qualities of Catherine,
I too broke my own heart,
but at least you could recognise
that you too, played your part.

you sit and eat cereal off my floor.
talk about the way it was before

I know your soul like I know no man's land
You know little about me.
you sit and eat cereal off my floor.
I talk about the things i want to be

ode to the peach tree,
sage leaves and chai tea,
to learning how to play guitar,
to undressed, endless summers
wherever you are.

Why is it
That I am at my most creative
When I am in the most pain
That I produce as I labour over the emotional debt I've been building up for one too many years.
That is unfair.
Why is it that
All these tortured teenage girls
Cannot sleep
Cannot eat
Cannot drink
But can choke
Choke on the pain like they choke on the ***** they will become addicted to
Cough up their lungs because of the drugs their parents told them not to take
Shudder as their legs are pried open by fingers that do not belong
Fingers that are attached to those you thought that you could trust
Cry, in the shower
So nobody can hear you
See you
Feel you
Taste you
Breathe you.
Build it up and up and up
And you are untouchable
Nobody can tell you
It'll all be okay
Because it is not and never will be.
The anti depressants you were prescribed can numb the pain
But not eliminate it
It will always buzz on the back of your brain
Like a bee flying into the cold glass of a window
Again and again.
You are trapped.

just how fast one flies away
when they are threatened with
a tether

September is creeping at summer’s corners
with stealth, so slight, so slender
flakes of gold, no fight, still tender.

the suffering i have danced through.
the tears i have bathed in.

Pulsate your peevish pain
through every inch of me,
call it love,
your preposterous purity
pumps in my veins now,
I cannot escape your
Vice, I laugh that I once
Tried.

That is a part of me now.
That same sickness satiates
Each nerve of mine.
That same slaughterous sin
sounds like the echo of
My bare bones.
That slimy sidekick that
You call sanctimonious
Writhes, sorry in my skin.

Pre-existent Angelface is nothing
But a wistful, naïve miracle!
She is chained with heavy wire,
Remains in my grains.
I believe she weeps, out of sheer
Celebration, for she is a
ferociously forgiving creature
Blind to her nature.

I wish romance was as dead
as the flowers you left on my
kitchen table
for I have finished with frolic
and ****** with fame
and never come out on top.

I don’t know why
Or what it is
But I can hold it together all day
Until he asks
If I’m okay
And only then I ever crumble.
Eyes fill up quicker
Than my stomach when I see
My reflection.
Maybe it’s a father thing.
He just knows.

the night of your disappearance
i cried a flood
and tried to drown myself in it.

for the next four weeks i mourned
the loss of you
greasy hair and no showers

just wandered around my house
no appetite
just sadness eating me alive

on the 31st day i worked up the energy
to stand for a half hour
to burn you off my skin

and to wash you out of my hair
i swept the dusty floors
and changed my cotton sheets.

washed my face, scrubbed my lips
of their outer skin.
how does it feel knowing now you've never touched them?

does that memory of me
on the sofa seem so
far away?
well then, who called you the taxi
and made sure you got home safe?

I bet you still remember the things
you said to me
the ones you claim you never spoke
safe place, no longer free.

I have been a shadow in this space because of you
no longer will I sit and stare until the walls burn through.
I still cannot hear anything but that heavy silent house
I still can't quite conceive how you were quiet as a mouse.

You said that you weren't ready
but you were just for She,
I was a fool for thinking you could cope with
loving me.

run your hands
through golden strands
speak softly,
ask me how,
then
mantle my cheeks,
you flush my brow.

caress rosebud lips
and hug my hips
sing sweetly,
ask me why,
then
turn around for I am one,
to exist until I die.

To sit and sip
On bitter foam
That warms from in within
Among the pretty snowdrops
I commit my deadly sin
the curl of crescent starlight
that will not let me in
push blossoms out of bare wood
Begrudgingly, it’s spring.

i don't want to eat today
do not force me.
i don't want to talk today
let me listen.
i don't want to leave my bed today.
lay with me.
stare at the ceiling and hold my hand.

I tug on your arm,
You don’t turn around anymore.

I often wonder what the strangers on the bus think when they look at me, looking at the raindrops race each other down the misty
window panes.
do they see the sadness that satiates me?

there is a girl, whom I recognise, but can't think from where,
She seems to see the sadness there.

we've talked but once, she has purple hair, its long and straight.
She seems to care.

I know not her name, her aches or her pain,
I know not her life, her troubles, her strife,
one thing is sure, though I don't know her nature,
I know that this girl is a Beautiful Stranger.

sweet darling,
i care not for your love,
if your love cares not for me.
sweet angel,
one never was so compliant
your eyes used to speak,
but they've always been silent
sweet darling
who suffered so deeply in guiding
sweet angel
I loved you,
though  your love was in hiding.

never do anything,
without loving it like I do
never just exist,
just because you have to

run with the sun
and smile in the salt
love like your love has never been lost

soak up the warmth
and play in the snow
be who you are
there are places to go

i cried again today,
because  despite it all,
it's still you.

there is something so very Soft,
about you.
Something cinnamon,
soothing and sweet.
Something woolen,
something warming,
something very Soft about you.

i lay awake last year

on a flight from mexico to here

i saw all the lights of london

flickering,  like the sun

i figured out that night

how i felt  in flight

looking over the world

love became unfurled

When I was a little girl
I thought I was a princess
And sometimes I still like to
Play pretend
Be somebody else
To hide myself behind a neurotypical character
Who is normal
Who blends in with the crowd
Of people my age to whom I am nothing alike.
Sometimes I think that it's fine.
I can handle it.
But then the artist inside
Screams
You can't hide it
Sometimes, in the privacy of my own bedroom
I let myself
Be myself
Only for a couple of minutes
Because I quickly become too much for anyone to handle.

Pink purple blue and
i
have nothing to say but
love
It's become reckless and
you
Don't understand the fear
but
the fear isn't the only thing
i
hate, I can't stand the feeling
don't
Mention your opinion
know
Your facts, the what's and
how
You sleep at night only
to
Wake up again
tell
Me again why
you
kicked me out of your life.

I loved you so long that I turned into something
I could not recognize.
By the time the ordeal was over I was no longer a girl but the shell of a shivering shipwreck left to rot among the rocks.
My senses had all been cast astray in the disaster, and, dressed in white waves, I had crawled my way back to shore.
I still do not know how I made it out of that wreckage. I only remember the voice from the depths assuring me I would survive, and I did.
and I am.

measure the midway, that cavernous kiss
torment of the raging waves
commentates angelical bliss
softly in those criminous caves.

endure and wail with the whispering wind
the tyrannous acid lash
twice the insidious harmony
of foamy thunder ****.

crawl and curl into turbulant annex
antagonistic reverie
thrice the slaving metroplex
of every elder tree.

what was it you saw in her?
so fast, when you claimed to love me?
how could it have been so deep
that you forgot what we had instantly?

you saw her for seconds,
Talked to her for minutes,
then by some strange justification decided
You Loved Her.

I don’t know if it was partly my fault,
pushing you away, but I only pushed you away because I knew how we’d end.
I’ve seen it before, and will see it again.
no loss for you, no heart, no law,
No light breaks through my window anymore.

here.
and then not.
well now what?

he’s holding back tears,
this soft summer
says he has a cold,

my hand magnetically,
attaches to his shoulder
and pulls him closer.

He kisses my head,
“you’re such a good friend”
as his arm snakes round my shoulder.

now we’re lying.
swaying summer grass
his hand takes mine,

jokes that my arm
is in the wrong place,
Corrects it with caress.

we are standing somewhere,
here and then not,
this isn’t fair
well now what?

may I ask what shaped your love
of fragile, bitter, true,
can I tell which wrong is right,
I often think of you.

abysmal, blunt, imperishable
moderate to none,
may I ask who carved your love
from segments of the sun.

that slight touch of tenderness
softens beyond the blue
glistening tears of gentleness
my kind regards to you.

spring blossoms into summer,
and summer falls to rust, and
the only Thing I know and love,
has left in cardboard dust.

another name
To add to my page of heartbreak
another name
To keep me numb
Another name
To romance, for a second chance
Though he is second to none.

another face
To associate with love
another face
To curse with praise
another face
to rehearse each small graze
On our downward facing days.

another heart
to submerge in anticipation
another heart
To learn each crack of pavement
another heart
To bleed dry, with a needle to the eye, when all my energy is spent.

another day
To pay for the holes in myself
To jump off of the highest shelf

another fate
To hate with an upward trend
Well I don’t need another friend.

to have loneliness resonate through me at such a young age
to feel the dull ache of constant emptiness
feels selfish, when there is so much beauty that surrounds me.
I want to be rooted to the ground.
for I am deeply a child of the universe and I should know my place.

and no matter how hard i try

how i turn a blind eye

how i block you out

how i lie in doubt

how strongly i feel

how i toss and  i turn

i can't let whats not real

affect how i learn

no matter how much i know

in my head, i am smart

in life i lie low

but i lie through my heart.

let me float
with the swells of your mood
and the smells of your tiny apartment
breath you in
out
as we sit cross legged on your
sagging sofa
summers afternoon is drawing in
to a confine
and I am claustrophobic.

Stuck in a secret safe haven
That shakes with anticipation
aches with adoration
resonates your thunder.