teanga álainn
san aer.

ar gach taobh:

daoine áille
agus
tír gálanta.

éistim,
mo shúile druidte -

tarraingím anáil dhomhain:

síochain

a heady cocktail to consume.

Me from a year ago -
I wouldn't have expected this.
I mean,
you gave me your first kiss.

oh god

anocht, d'ithim dinnéar le chairde:
bhí áthas orm! rinne mé dearmad orm féin.

I spend nearly every waking moment
Thinking how you would find that thing funny
Or that thing sweet
Or that thing interesting.

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.

who gave you the right
to collect other people’s misery?
heartaches and tears,
are not yours to own.

don’t you dare take my name,
it is yours no more;
not my life, not my soul,
not my home.

tá m’ainm! tá mo bhaile! tá m’anam seo!

with sweet voice,
and deft fingers,
you rewrite the pages,
to suit some plan of your own.

but my name? and his? and his?
our county, our place, our home?

stand upon your lonely ridge,
gaze down towards this fort,
and see:

taking others’ names is dangerous
when you don’t know what they mean.

just know that as you drew me
(close)
you took a piece of my soul

and as you held me
(close)
I lost my heart in yours

so now we're at our close,
I will never again be quite
whole

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.

look outside yourself
for twenty minutes,

breathe in the creation
find some inspiration.

not content to sit idly by
while the world speeds past:

green and grey and beautiful -
sodden with yesterday’s life
dropping off leaves and
into open collars.

leaky futures flood across
the backside of our minds.

cascade -
gently at first:

a trickle, a dribble,
a hand to hold.

lay down those sweaty palms
dry the crease of your smile,
for the world is full of wonder
if you stay for a while.

laethanta sásta,
botharanna salach ‘s
éan orágamaí

"pull me close, i promise i won't bite,"
whispered the razor from the cabinet,
"kiss? little kiss? small kiss for an old friend?
i hear you're into that these days."

"i really shouldn't," i reply, "i made a promise..."
______________

let it out

clean yourself up, scrub all the sin away,
let it drain into the shower basin -
cleaning, removing, making right!

warm and bubbling over, not too hot,
not yet

****.
hair in plug hole.
water isn't draining.

standing in filth. standing in sin.
look! look! you can see it!
it's all soapy and congealing!
rose-tinted bubbles and London grime!
______________

"hey, we've still got that old spark," flashing a grin

"i guess we do," i reply,
the heat already becoming unbearable under my broken skin

I wouldn't worry too much,
mo chara,
it's not your greatest weakness.

Exisiting in yet another space between
Two worlds, two lives.
Searching for some new meaning -
Or running from old demons?

Trapped in the divide, between
This and that,
anseo agus ansin.

Torn, tattered, stuck in an lár:
Teanga, life, baile, love.

Falling to pieces

Clawing at - clawing at what’s left,
What is left?

Left is the eight months since you did -
Not that that affects me anymore
(He lies to himself),
It’s just a marker, a buoy -
keeps me on course.

Struggling to see what's right,
What is right?

"If it feels good..."
I am uncertain - but I don't feel peace.  
Conflicted, definitely, and yet I don’t cease

Meddling in things I have no right to meddle in:
lives and loves and people -
Human beings.

Can you not see the damage this will cause?
Not you, but those who you misuse -
You are an evil, twisted little boy

Trapped in this space between
Right and wrong;
My twisted actions and my convicted mind;
Him and me.

for how was I to know
what I was never told?

that I feel like this
with you

because that is all supposed to be passed
yet I can’t help it:
when you laugh and you smile
and you dance and you talk.

sorry mo chara, I know I am foolish,
but for these nights, I can’t help
but hope each one won’t be the last

scríobhfaidh mé rud gaelach gach lá,
fiú má tá drochghaeilge,
agus fiú má nach mhaith liom.

mar sin, tá mo theanga seo,
's úsaidim í!

this is not a game I enjoy playing
yet with every new month
I seem to get drafted in for one more round.

the team is familiar -
well, isn’t it always?
same faces, same bodies, same minds.

some months we swap places,
and friend becomes foe,
treading the same well-worn earth
we have all grown so accustomed to.

some months we draw crowds,
(who can resist? what colourful,
lively displays!)

some months we draw pity
(for who would watch the pitiful playtime
of university educated adults),

but one thing is guaranteed -
from the game is set in motion,
till the results are declared -
we will always,
always,
draw blood.

how easy to fall
into old patterns

if I could
peel back the skin
from the top of my head
and crack open my skull
and reach inside,

I would pull out shards of
a woman made of Glass.

if I could
break open the covering
to my deepest fears and
truest hopes,

I fear the fingerprints
I would find lingering
on every part and piece
would erase themselves -
edit and change - cease.

if I could draw
the nameless stars
onto the inside of my eyes

and take your hand
and let your fingertips
trace the outline of my
thoughts;

if I could stab a straw
into the grey matter,
I would ask you drink it,
just so you could taste...

if I could open my veins,
and tie the bloodied strings
to your chest;

if I could hold your hand,
and feel our fingers
tangle and entwine;

if I could crack open my ribcage,
I would let you climb in;

if, if, if...

She stood, with winter in her chest
And stars in her head.

am I the monster?

pitiful, broken boy. vile creature. twisted soul.

it all feels a bit trite now. I used to fill pages upon pages with that. a ceaseless wave of self-loathing. I wanted to do that tonight. I wanted to hurt myself. I wanted to tear myself to pieces. just like the old days: endless tirades into whatever abyss presented itself. notes and poems, blogs and songs.

I even carved it into my skin.

"MONSTER" "PERVERT" "FREAK" "EVIL"

if you look closely you can still see the faint outlines of names I gave myself from my hips to my thighs.

but scars fade.
wounds heal.
tablets work (and stop working), counsellors work (and stops working), friends leave (and stop leaving),

nothing stands still. that once constant hum fades into the distance.

a new song takes its place.

just look at all the hope left in its wake...

all the friendships maintained. all the relationships built. all the late night calls and car rides to the beach. all the conversations and arguments. all the half-baked ideas and plans to change the world. all the cups of tea and petrol station tray bakes. all the last minute events. all the bickering and creating. all the faces glowing. all the plane, train, bus, and bike journeys. all the phone calls answered. all the wounds bandaged. all the ambulance trips and hospital visits. all the falling outs and friend drama. all the heartbreak and bellyache. all the pain and confusion. all the *** and prayer. all the tears and laughter. all the board games and secret shames. all the friends lost and friends gained.

there are lives worth living, and people worth loving.
my life did not end at 16, when I committed a crime and shattered the world.
no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I bled, I could not change what I had done.

but it is done.
all of it.
and many, many years later, I think I can finally begin close a chapter of my life.

after all, hope grows in the cracks.

my tongue crawls back to the gap
where my tooth fell out;
passing by the rigid brace
permanently fixed to the back
of my incisors.

tracing stuffed bedrows
stained by Lagans of tea,
skipping the entrance,
afraid of the sea

change that takes place -
when you linger too long,
or the sharp, shooting pain
when probing goes wrong.

i avoided the dentist
(with her microscope stare)
and chose to dress it
with other (important) affairs.

i can piece together scraps
and tie up old ribbon
and weave a new story

out of old memories
and new friends
and tales of true emotion

heartache, heartbreak,
when there’s just a little more
at stake

echoes of laughter and music,
deep sea and vast distance

dip and weave
move and shake
from many pieces,
one does a quilt make

this is a start

time to rebuild and heal
time to return to my God
time to be love and life for people

no more confusion, no more angst

time for decisions and responsibility
time to grow up all over again

it’s a knife twisting slowly in my gut.
it’s the floor vanishing underneath me.

broken apologies bubble out of my mouth,
passions unfettered and emotions confused.
where sweetness blossomed,
a bitter taste is left.

foot tangled in my own net,
pushing, pulling, struggling -
but only really constricting.

panic swirls in my chest,
a sourness in my throat,
waves crashing around my head.
down, down, deep into the pit,
weighed down by blind stupidity.

dark clouds linger on the horizon,
you can just make them out.

summer, you've been

...

my head stops working. what words surmise the whole picture? how do I stay true to events, when my heart hurts? who am I really upset with? everyone else, or the wreck I see inside? this is a hard path to follow, I am long out of practice. I want goodness, wholeness, honesty - and that includes the sad and the difficult. I want Jesus. I don't want my volatility any longer,  and I know it's a journey, but goodness I long for its end.

I want to love those around me, even those keep making it difficult to. I want to be light and joy, not bitter and cruel. I need more God, and less conchúr... it is just taking a little while.

...

summer, you have been,
and whatever comes next,
I know where my anchor lies.

dark clouds linger on the horizon,
you can make it out of this alive.

I will never stand in the way
of who you want to be,
but if this is it,
I want to be free.

my heart cannot take anymore,
it is being pummelled from all sides.
but from you?
I can’t tell the truth from the lies.

you tell me I matter,
that you care,
that the only thing you want is that feeling - there -

caught in the moonlight,
wrapped in each other’s arms,
I fool myself in to believing
that this is what I want.

your love isn’t broken,
it’s simply on pause,
and I fear its resumption,
for I will be gone.

I can’t sneak round in shadows,
nor stand by your back,
while you **** me in secret,
and snort strangers’ crack.

don’t tell me you want me,
then take it back,
over and over,
because I think I have cracked.

my head is soup,
left on the boil.
my body is dead foliage,
rotting under the soil.

bruised sky,
heavy clouds,
swollen with summer rain.

carry me,
into the earth,
where there is no more pain.

spiky heart
falling into my lap
pulling out the threads from my jumper on the way down

have you ever tasted the sting
of jagged love
as it finds the quickest way out?

grey carpet, yellow wall,
brown table, yellow wall,
blue seat, yellow wall,
and a **** coloured stain on the ceiling.
_______

shoulders pressed inward,
hands between thighs,
hair hanging in front of
detestable grey eyes.

but details matter,
red hands must smear
a crude-drawn picture,
on strips of brown-clear.

blinding and white
burning the table,
ten pages in all,
a statement from Abel.

attempt to explain,
better yet confess,
inky black clips,
secret, sudden cess.

bottle green, cautioning;
two lives lost
to action unseen.
golden is youth,
yet blue is the feeling,
all colour gone, body reeling.

hope has a still, small voice

Between what I am supposed to feel
And the desires of my heart.

shards scatter outwards like stars,
spiralling away from the centre of your universe

finding rest in soft, pink flesh,
wriggling close to the
warm cavern in my chest.

brilliant blinding light
shimmers beneath the surface;

short, sharp, shocked
intake of breath:

"****."

let light drive out darkness,
hope supplant fear,
joy overtake despair;

and most of all,
may love and goodness grow,
where forgiveness flows

of my life
of my meaning
of anything worth having.

I was not,
nor will I ever be,
good enough for you.

you are my best friend,
the person I would lay down everything for,
yet,

here i am,
(again)
having failed you
(again)
because I will  never be
(nor have I ever been)
good enough for you.

to you
words mean nothing,
yet to you,
words mean everything

ah I see
I see
I see

let me pursue kindness if it kills me.

let my actions speak louder.

let my reflection be true and my apologies timely.

let anger flee and love remain.

let pain subside and healing grow.

and where I have toyed with fire let hope build bridges.

sweet blossoming joy,
friends who stick around,
friends who have only just begun.

ah life flows
from rocks broken in two ,

water pouring out
of stone,

drenching all around,
with sweet blossoming joy