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4.0k · Oct 2018
fiachra breac Oct 2018
emotions collide in great crashing waves
as I career from sea to land to bed.
head full of static,
perpetually stuck
between channels.
white noise drenching
my soul in
rich and vibrant grey.

faint images trace across
my faulty mind,
and, for a second,
I catch a glimpse of —
a line must be drawn,
and it is here I must decide,

upon which pillow to lay my head.
I am not ready for this yet.
3.1k · Dec 2014
fiachra breac Dec 2014
I stole your smile.
It used to sit right between your lips, remember?

It tasted like home.
It used to fill my dark mornings, remember?

It looked like love.

It used to tell me why it loved me.
It used to crack your face in two.
It used to show up when I did.
But nowadays, I only ever see it go.

Of all the crimes that I've committed,
there is one I detest the most.
Because where once it sparked a fire
within me, now it's just another ghost.
The day after I told you.
2.0k · Dec 2014
fiachra breac Dec 2014
I know you're hurting, sweetie, and it's breaking my heart. I keep seeing all these horrible things in my sleep and it's scaring me.
I want to tell you so much, but I'm afraid I'll hurt you again - and I cannot do that.

I wanted to **** myself, and I don't know how I'll tell anyone that, let alone my best friend. I prayed for the end; I knew how I was going to do it: and then an angel showed up.

There are moments when it feels like it's better, but sometimes, they hurt the most, because they are so fleeting.
I don't know if it'll ever get better, darling, but sleep tight, you hear?

Don't you go worrying about me, I'll be fine. It's probably just a phase. I'll be fine in a few weeks, or a month, or a year.
Chin up, darling, you're doing great.
1.9k · Jan 2015
fiachra breac Jan 2015
We sat on that old pier,
as the others crab-fished by.
I found my hands beneath me,
in an attempt to keep them dry.

I traced the outline of a mountain range
with my tired, tearful eyes,
and the sun pinned me to the concrete wall,
stripping me of any disguise.

The fresh wounds on my shoulder
still oozed their precious blood,
yet we talked of days still to come
and summers, oh so far ahead.

Yet for a moment I almost believed that
what I’d done had been undone
but you struck me with reality
and my walls came tumbling down.

We looked at each other,
in the wild, unsettling sun,
with the sea-surf sparkling blue
and voices of our distant friends

ringing of the new
and interesting discovery that one crab, no, two,
had broken through the green net -
maybe that was you.
1.6k · Apr 13
soft, sweet spring night
fiachra breac Apr 13
oh but for a moment of sweet, foolish fun.

smouldering coals glow bright
with gentle touch.

a moment of young, lovely bliss,

a kiss shared -
a real one,
not the farce of hours prior -
from one who is interested.

conversation spills out,
and with it,
admiration, affinity,
some sense of belonging.

silly things, not heavy,
but light.
float above the damp night grass -
soar amongst the clouds gathering above.

push past the smoking remains of
the fire

up the stairs

laughter, smiles, warm skin

nobody's business but ours
nobody's business but ours... a kind face and listening ear
1.2k · Dec 2018
fiachra breac Dec 2018
never content:
withholding love out of what?
fear? envy? greed? sadness?

how i long for peace, stability and change...

a constant contradiction. barreling from heart to heart -
never finding ground long enough to lose myself
in someone else’s arms.

feelings stronger after i tear them out.

have to look at them in the air in front of my eyes.
bleeding, dripping their blood on the carpet,
heart beating in my hands.
to be clinically inspected and torn apart
only to discover that this was what i wanted all along.

like a tree, felled to tell its age,
dead, but finally understood.
too late to say,
“ah! look how old it’s branches, how deep its roots, how wonderful it’s shade!”

dead. dead and decomposing on the floor.

will i always glorify love lost over love in front of my eyes?
an outburst found in my notes. dated 3rd nov 2018. I will wreck this, and it will be hell.
fiachra breac Dec 2014

At every tortured bend and darkened hallway, I see you;

And me. And the smiles up against the walls and the laughter jumping through your hair.

I see my insides tied tightly to the spots where we mumbled and fumbled and




I see shadows of guilt stretched across our history and - like some queer carnival attraction - my Hopelessness cast them.

I feel broken memories catching in my eyes like old, worn hooks.

I taste laughter and love at the back of my throat:

Tickling some hardened part of me :

Making me to and fro’.

And as much as I suffer for the crimes I took joy in,

I know you,

And you suffer for it all the more.
1.1k · Aug 2018
flash flood
fiachra breac Aug 2018
oh to sink into the earth!
sodden and rancid with rain;
sagging under the weight
of too much
after too long. Drowning,
under more of the same
879 · Dec 2014
Fear fills up my senses.
fiachra breac Dec 2014
I struggle to breathe when I think about my actions.
I struggle to feel what my heart wants to feel.
I plot my own demise and think how best to word it.
Because sometimes my only gift seems to be my absence.

I give by taking away.
And it cuts me.

They wouldn't really mind - not for long anyway.
It's all just a mist, right? A vapour?
But I've got to get up every morning - regardless of my desires - because I'm still too scared to let go.
And if my gift is Absence, then I pray it happens quickly.
825 · Jan 4
scatter my body among the stars

let me float nameless in the sky

so your eyes may never know me

and your mind will be whole and free

but I’ll feel your gaze

burning bright (as always as always)

from your bench in the garden

giving me whatever meaning you decide
778 · Dec 2014
fiachra breac Dec 2014
I miss Sleep’s gentle touch.
Her kiss against my ever greedy cheek; becoming swamped
in the tide of cover and quilt,
entangling myself in her dreams.

I long for her as each days drag on,
but forget her as I lie
in sweetest, softest sheets,
surrounded by the blackness of my mind.

She has a bitter streak, Sleep, that is.
For she drags me down to icy black depths as I let my anchor loose.
She holds me in writhing hands that
poke, and ****, and bruise.

When my self resurfaces - at the beep of new day.
My soul gasps for air
in the screaming, sweating freedom,
when I break from her night-time snare.
9.12.14 // 1.13am
612 · May 2018
the things i can't show you
fiachra breac May 2018
you consume my every thought,
burning your image across my mind
and setting my soul on fire.

i feel free by your side -
in your arms, under you,
caught in your embrace.

we will blaze bright
into the night time sky
and though our time is short,
the passion, the feeling, the liberty
will outlast our very selves., bothered, fascinated by your mind
566 · Feb 16
dust (part ii)
fiachra breac Feb 16
where i let dust gather
(on the Word that breathes life)
i let myself become another:

broken, and twisted, and strange.
darkness coursing through my veins,
i slipped into a slumber,

into someone else's arms
and someone else's bed,
i crept - seeking what i once had.

now, as the Son rises in my life,
reclaiming what is his,
slaying the darkness again,

i find myself shocked,
by how much I had let the dust cover.
god, save me. I need you.

as you lift the scales from my eyes, to look upwards to your Son, I can see this past year stretched out behind me. I am angry at what I let myself become.

show me how to know that I am forgiven, because at the moment all I feel is shame, and that's not what I am called to. please release me from this, and let me be full of your joy and peace.

my little heart is aching, and I just need you Jesus
543 · Dec 2017
fiachra breac Dec 2017
a fumble,
a moan,
two bodies,
a home.

the whispers,
the gasp,
two people,
at last.

a stumble,
a groan,
two endings,
517 · Mar 2018
fiachra breac Mar 2018
dust gathers
on the Word that breathed life
into sun
and moon
and stars
486 · Dec 2017
fiachra breac Dec 2017
blurred bodies, blurred faces, blurred lines
careering wildly from floor to seat to bar.
Can't we just sit quietly -
minding nobody's business but our own -
talking soft
and long -
not caring what goes on out there?

but of course, there are conversations to be had:
"how's you?"
"how's work?"
"how's your dad?"
and specific moves to perform.
It's tightly choreographed - yet we pretend it's teenage chaos.

and in the perfectly controlled mayhem,
I lose sight of you,
but I can't shake your presence:
I can feel you, but I dare not look to confirm.
So I slip into the bodies, the faces, the blur,
and try and lose myself out here.
485 · Mar 2018
fiachra breac Mar 2018
Home -
That's where we went on your birthday.
It didn't quite fit though, did it?
Because Home was right in front of me,
and four thousand miles away.

You tried to make it work,
and maybe I had given up,
but now I'm left unfettered,
and floating on til -

Yet home was far away,
and Home had never been closer.

I've been back too long
to miss my home,
but long enough to lose
i don't normally put this many up, but i ended up going through my drafts and decided it was time to air poems from ages ago that i never quite published - better out than in and all that. i also think i have a chronic fear of redacting parts of my life, and i find a strange beauty in painting my happiest moments alongside my mostly deeply shameful. a patchwork quilt of human experience - or maybe just a pretentious, very depressed teenager with no other outlet that is safe
474 · Mar 2018
a thiarna
fiachra breac Mar 2018
go maithe dia dom é!
is peacach mé,
agus tá bás uaim.

le do thoil,
sábháil dom uaim féin.
i tried it in english and i don't know if you heard, so here it is as Gaeilge because that's the language you made my heart speak.

god forgive me!
I am a sinner,
and I want death.

save me from myself.
fiachra breac Dec 2017
Lie with me.
It's the only way.
What else must be said?

Lie with me.
Stop this torture in my head.
Only me! —
I've said more than I intend.

Lie with me.
Please, I thought you my friend.
You must see,
Just this once, never again.
473 · May 2018
fiachra breac May 2018
it wouldn’t be like me to
be travelling on yet another
train, across yet another
country to visit friends
They feature awfully heavily in my life as I travel to meet those I care about most
464 · Aug 21
fiachra breac Aug 21
falling in love with a hurricane,
isn't nearly as dramatic as it sounds
better to rip the plaster off now
456 · Sep 2017
ian house, kiwoko
fiachra breac Sep 2017
Nighttime sounds different here.
The birds sing.
The bugs hum.
From the other side of town comes the beating of some thumping, bumping drum.

Every night feels the same:
Birds sing,
Bugs hum,
From the other side of town comes the beating of some thumping, bumping drum.

At five o'clock the faithful are woken and told to face North, to a city far away.
While for us, we lie prostrate in our beds and turn towards that great black shadow of routine, broken sleep.
447 · Jul 19
bean an fhairraige
fiachra breac Jul 19
today she is blue
and purple and green
and she wears glitter
beneath her skin

she comes close
only to run away
closer! to run away

but i will sit
(as always)
and watch her
dance that dance

(close far close far close far)

and smile
for i’ve yet to see
such beauty matched
anywhere in this world

and for it to come
so close to me
woman of glass. woman of the sea.
426 · Mar 5
I was content being the vessel.
414 · Jan 2018
not the first
fiachra breac Jan 2018
time I missed a lecture
because I was too sad to breathe

duvet-weight pinned me to the mattress
and dread washed over my head
375 · Apr 2018
Mo fhoinn
fiachra breac Apr 2018
Is fuath liom mo fhoinn
Mar ní thuigim iad nó
Ní feidir liom?

Ba mhaith liom túsa
Agus do thine
Ach tá heagla ormsa.
374 · May 2018
mo croí bhriste
fiachra breac May 2018
is mo croí theanga í,
is an t-anam ó t-am dearmadta
gur ní cuimhnigh mé.

tá sé bhriste 's,
ach is breá liom í fos

mar sin,
is mo bhaile í
agus tiocfaidh an lá
nuair tá mo theanga agam
my broken heart

it is my heart's language,
it is the soul forgotten in time,
that i cannot remember.

it is broken and,
but i love it still

it is my home,
and the day is coming,
when i will have my tongue.
I feel at home in a language my ancestors lost. I feel safe in words that don't come easy. I found peace and hope and healing in the seemingly strange sounds of my native tongue, and I will reclaim it, for myself, and my peers, and the generations who follow, because it is beautiful and it is ours.
371 · Feb 11
fiachra breac Feb 11
i’ll admit,
it feels a little like blackmail
when you say the things you say

i know you don’t mean it
but god, it hurts
361 · Sep 2018
is peacach mé
fiachra breac Sep 2018
hell is not hot enough
nor the abyss deep enough
to hide the ugliness of my sin -

so vast, so cruel, so sinister:
by my hand, I bring torment;
by my words, I scramble to justify:

"I- I am sorry,"
"I wish I hadn't,"
"I never meant this."

If it were true you would have never ******* done it,
yet here we are,
as always,
in wreckage,
you selfish, horrible little boy.
fiachra breac Jun 2018
midnight cries for help go unheeded,
***** little secrets remain unchecked.
regret, misery, disgust -
at what i have done
and who i have become
(who have i become?)
351 · Jul 2018
fiachra breac Jul 2018
348 · Jan 2018
fiachra breac Jan 2018
bláthanna ghorma,
spéir dearg,
anam corcra.
Táim ag an foghlaim na Gaeilge. Is é mo chéad iarracht véarsa a scríobh i nGaeilge. Níl ach focail amhain agam, ach is maith liom é.
fiachra breac Feb 2018
tá brón orm...

I'm sorry,
but, God, there is a sadness on me.

I know you have begun your move on,
and I promise I am happy for you -
but I have more work left in my heart
agus dúnéaltach mór.
fiachra breac Nov 2017
Ethiopian sunrises are very beautiful, it would appear.

I feel like I am always in Addis
but I've yet to have seen it in the daylight.
Arriving in darkness was no different from the norm,
but I have to say I have been pleasantly surprised by this morning's offering.

Addis appears to be surrounded by peculiar bunches of mountains
that pile up on top of one another.
The dark blue has slowly been replaced by sky,
then yellow,
then pink,
then grey,
then mountain bunch.

I didn't sleep much on the plane.
From about Greece it felt like an age since I had last seen Irish soil.
Why is that?
What is it about travelling that allows time and space to become so closely tethered to one another? It's been barely twelve hours since
I left Sasha, Mum, and Dad in Dublin but it may as well be a year.
I can only hope that this feeling does not overtake me
come the 28th April.
I don't want to have to desperately cling on to the memories of Kiwoko
as they are eroded by the aeroplane's slipstream.

The mountains are getting clearer now.
Varying hues of blue and grey imposed on the horizon.
Off to the East the sky is burning with morning
through thick, white terminal lattice.

There's an impossible to miss radiance
scorching the jagged edge of this Eastern range,
yet it lingers almost imperceptible from the surrounding sky -
as if everything Eastwards is ablaze.
322 · Mar 2018
parts i, ii, and iii
fiachra breac Mar 2018
Tangled bodies on a sofa
on the wrong side of town
Telling stories from when we last met -

Too close?
Shared experiences, shared regrets -
Feelings that only we both seem to get.

You move first, pulling my face to yours,
Do we stop? No,
I go down,
On this strange sofa on the wrong side of town.
Shared desire,

Bodies heaving against each other

Bodies looking for souls
Souls in need of bodies
Using each other to feel something again
In a shared pursuit of meaning
Be it cosmic self-harm,
Or existential release,
In this most intimate of mistakes,
I feel strangely at peace.
this is not what i do...
311 · May 2018
fiachra breac May 2018
soft lights, warm skin, our moans -
we steal breaths from the space between
our chests

just you, and me, and the fleeting feeling
of freedom or peace or passion
to be each other
...sleepy smiles and gentle words
305 · Feb 14
off guard
fiachra breac Feb 14

you're dead now -

i wasn't ready.
I should have visited you.
Eight months...

Selfish, pathetic little boy.
300 · Apr 23
fiachra breac Apr 23
soaring peacefully,
far above our heads.

you keen and dive,
move and shake,
you dance.

careful now -
don't let go,
keep the string firm in your grasp

she is strong,
and she pulls hard -
lifting us up from our feet.

o! to be a ribbon,
fluttering in your breeze,
swirling and twirling beneath
your gaze.

o! to feel the tug
of that thin white line,
wrenching us forward,
dragging us on -

tied to the pit of my stomach,
you yank what's left of my insides out
296 · Apr 2018
fiachra breac Apr 2018
The more I struggle, the harder it is to break free.
She has me

Pinned. Arms above my head,
Hands clasped -

I don’t know how to pray anymore
Or maybe I just got lazy
Or maybe You stopped listening
Or maybe I stopped wanting

But silence stretches to heaven
From my angry, hellbent mouth,
And my ears are plugged with wax -
I’ve got sirens here on earth.

I can’t escape the weight of You -
Not that I want to, it’s just
That having her on top of me,

Another breath catches in my throat,
Her hands tighten their grip -

Searing white fingers wrapped around my neck,
Softly uttered moans escape my lips.
287 · Mar 2018
fiachra breac Mar 2018
I hunger for change -
for revolution -
for some end to this mundane

life. Seems so common,
so dull and expected and teenage.
I need to taste freedom

from myself, my
peers, my cramped little world.
There are new horizons to be seen,

and new people to meet, and
new memories to be made.
I love what has come before

but I need to believe,
there is more to come.
I'm normally not this pretentious, I promise, it's just I am on tenterhooks regarding the future. I have never felt this excited about seeing tomorrow - not in a long time. And don't worry, I'm still massively freaking depressed, it's just now I crave revolution... Ireland is not yet free, millions around the world are enslaved, the entire system is at breaking point, and I have friends interested in fixing it
282 · May 2018
fiachra breac May 2018
anois, anois,
it's not that bad

níl sé a lan dona,
ach gearr mé fhein
274 · Dec 2017
Guilt and sex
fiachra breac Dec 2017
a heady cocktail to consume.

Me from a year ago -
I wouldn't have expected this.
I mean,
you gave me your first kiss.
271 · May 2018
you, i, but
fiachra breac May 2018
you are gone but fragments remain -
lodged in my eyes, catching my throat,
digging deep into my chest.

i cover up; laughter and smiles
and bad jokes and new music
and new interests and new people
and new plans and new futures

but those old pieces of you remain -
buried behind my moans, my groans,
tied tightly to the back wall of my brain.
it's a weird ol' brain time, ach tá a fhios agat fhéin.

working it out bit by bit.
fiachra breac Jun 2018
Where once feelings lay,
Only strange copies remain.
The sense of what should be experienced
Or what is supposed to be felt.

A reflection of the original -
Twisted and distorted -
Not yet beyond recognition,
But increasingly hard to decipher.

Familiarity  - with this place -
Is all that marks its irregularity.
Knowledge that this has been before
Signals it is happening again.

A worrying trend, when abnormality
Becomes the mundane.
You’d think that being depressed made you sad all the time but I’m not sad that often, merely empty. Blank and drifting between self-made disasters. I’m not sure if I orchestrate them so that I achieve maximum pain or if they just happen that way because I’m a **** person.

I’d like it all to stop now please.
fiachra breac Mar 2018
And things had never been so good!
Well, that's what I was supposed to say.

I had broken months before,
But I was too frightened to let you in.
So as we came together,
Something else joined us there.

I'm afraid that I went first,
and strayed further than we meant to,
But something took a hold of us,
And suddenly we were spiralling

Further and further from our intended path
until we crash-landed:
bodies, exposed,
souls, in tatters,
us, in ruin.
I don't really know what happened to me in Kiwoko - I fear I never will, but Sasha I am so sorry for the person I returned as. Long distance was harder than I expected and I wish I had been better for you. I should have listened to you and your mum, and just come home, but I didn't, and I paid the price for that when we went too far and it broke us apart.
248 · Mar 2018
fiachra breac Mar 2018
was it worth it?
to feel something? just for ten ******* minutes,
to feel something?

i can't look at you, Conchúr,
you repulse me.
every crocodile tear and shark-*******-smile,
with your smug little laugh,
and your meaningless words -

you weave them together,
constructing vast fantasies and empty promises -
how many people have you trapped,
in your wide and selfish net?

oh! but you've always been so good with words.
and may that be the death of you,
because you deserve hell for your sins:
one eternity is not black enough for creatures like you.

lies, lust, pain - that's your bread and butter.
you never were good at much else,
but ****** you are good at hurting
those around you, the ones who care.

she was right to get rid of you,
especially when she did,
because look how far you've come!

when was it... only last night you tried again,
didn't you? you thought no one was looking,
but they all have eyes, and someone will find out.

they'll see your scars (remember to keep it below the belt next time, buddy, okay?),
or they'll see the blood (god, how it gushed after all that dancing - i thought you were a goner),
or they'll find your pathetic little poems,
gathering dust on some forgotten corner of the internet,
where your heart is too bare,
and its blackness is plain to see.

what then? will it be worth it then?
to express something? just to try and put your life in words,
to express something?

"oh look at you, you poor thing,
you've been so hard done by..."


this is your fault,
and you deserve every last ounce of hurt.
god, i don't know what else i am to do. how did i end up like this? what happened to me?
241 · Nov 2018
an unsteady goodbye?
fiachra breac Nov 2018
why does it feel this way
when I hear the songs you write

and why does it cut me so
to think of a lifetime of lost nights

by your side
by your side
by your side
240 · Dec 2018
fiachra breac Jun 10
"words mean nothing," you hope -
in your anger, bile, and tears.

you've poured out your heart
with paper, and pen, and keyboard, and playlist, and life.

moulding great civilisations and intricate portraits and new lives and companions and loves.

you sew yourself together,
scattered fragments from your terror,
weaving a tapestry to replace your skin.

peel off the layers,
scrape away your pain

patching up wounds with words:
bandages from poems,
dressings from that play.

burn, burn bright as the stars in the sky -
distant and dying and alone.

shine, shine like that light on your desk...


you edit, and change
constantly revising
the story in your head -

and I think that's okay.
december 3rd 2018 // nollaig 3ú 2018

song lyrics?
231 · Jun 15
fiachra breac Jun 15
bhí coinne agam anocht,
chuaigh muid go Lus na Gréine.
bhí sí go hiontach.

labhraimid le chéile,
faoi gach rud agus níos mó.
bhí sí go hiontach.

tá sásta orm.
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