sometimes I miss the past, and places that I never even knew
I miss central New York in the 1950's
it doesn't matter to me that I'm an English girl born in the 90's

I miss the person that I was yesterday, and the day before that
I always feel so self-critical in the present, so worried
I miss when I wasn't, even though I know
that I always have been

I miss stargazing with you, but that didn't happen either
only in my mind
that creates infinities of realities that will never exist

I miss that time that you told me with such arrogance
never talk to me again, I am more than you will ever be
this did happen, I didn't make this up
I only miss it because that's the last time you spoke to me.
How sick and delusional must I be to feel that way?

is it that sickness that leads my mind astray
into weary fantasies that I can never be?
I don't know any more.
I miss New York in the 50's.

if the past haunts you, then exorcise yourself
bathe yourself in the sunlight
and bid goodnight to Mother Moon
lay down in fields of daisies and lavender
take in their scent, as they will take in you, as one of them
hug the trees, feel their bark beneath your hands
tend to their needs, love them as you will learn to love yourself
let the stars of the night sky, guide you to a better life
as you relearn your ways.
Feel the grass and the mud
and the dirt of the Earth between your toes
it may feel unusual to begin with, but let it be
you will grow accustomed to the way that nature infiltrates you
you will learn to love it, as it loves you
and then, you will learn to love yourself, soon

this is where you allow the past to be left where it belongs
as a place in the foggiest realms of your mind
not to be forgotten, but just left untouched

you are here, now
you are a living being full of might and beauty
with potential explosive enough
to brighten the dusky night skies

you are free to live with the Earth
and you are free to live in this moment
do not let the more dismal times
that left you in dismay
stunt the being you are growing to be
now you've left behind those days

the future is calling and it is not to be ignored
nor is to be feared, or delayed

you don't need a boy
to pick you up when you are down
you have yourself

don't drown yourself
when you know how to swim

stay awake until you are tired
do not force yourself to sleep, or to stay conscious

if someone asks you how your day was
don't lie and say it was good, if it was not
they asked because they care

do not fear the indifference you feel
you are not numb to the whole world and it will pass

don't do anything unless you want to
this goes for ***, school, work and love

nothing in this world comes above your health
if it means failing a test, losing a job, or ending a relationship
do what you must to withhold your wellbeing

all bad things in moderation can be good
moderation is key here

love is never to be feared, nor is it to be abused
love is to be taken when needed
and given back when necessary

nobody can tell you how to live or who to love
nobody but yourself

if that boy you like
asks to take you out on a drive at midnight
and you don't think you can go, do it anyway
but stay safe

face the consequences of all of your actions
with dignity and pride

it's Friday night and the week has been tough
don't give up now
take a sip of  your parents' rosé wine
coat your lips in rouge
and love yourself

you are scared of recovery, of course you are
your mind tells you that if you get better
the people that feed you attention will leave
don't let that stunt you

at the end of the day, all you have is yourself
nobody else, just you. That seems scary now, doesn't it?
because right now, you are part of a battle between your mind
your heart, your soul, and your wellbeing

take the fear, and the strength you use to battle yourself
use it to battle the demons that crawl through the cracks in your puzzled head
take that burning self-loathing, take it and use it to pull yourself out
away from the black holes in your mind. Your mind, an unsolved puzzle, fix it

the burn marks and the rotting teeth and the scratches on your arm
the protuding ribs and the bruised limbs and the tearful eyes
they do not define you, they are not what makes you the person you are
they will never define you unless you allow them to, and you won't

the fire in your heart that has kept you here until now, and the fight you just can't give up
for the moments you find yourself lost in a daydream of the times ahead when you have esccaped
let those carry you onwards, let the everlasting fires burn brighter than before, and fight
fight harder than you ever have, because this battle will be hard but it can be won

if that was love, then I no longer wish to have a heart
I would pull apart my limbs, in attempts to make you happy
and still my heart would remain, despite desperate endeavours
on my part of course, to break it apart, crack it open and set it free

I never knew of the touch of your hands, or your lips against mine
and the feel of my head in the crook of your neck at 3 am
when I felt like I had absolutely nothing left
nothing but you, or so I thought

I didn't know you inside or out, and I no longer wish to now,
I can add you to the infinite list of things that never made sense to me
amongst algebra, and formulae and chemical bonds
comes your name, written in red, then crossed out 10 times
in an attempt to forget

you still appear in my deepest dreams
or nightmares, either way it is put
you still remain in slithers and cracks
in the darkest parts of my mind

to peek through a door left slightly ajar
even though you know that nothing good can come
was what it was like to know you
to say it was love, would be too dense, naive

with no form of closure
comes a means of keeping me trapped
and although the smiles that adorn my face are true
so are the night terrors, that all involve you.

your scent lingers, in the way that the moon never rushes to go down in the winter
in the way that it is a beautiful blend of moonlight, lavender, and whiskey
the moon is always beautiful and nobody complains of her presence
the same is said for you

your legs tangle with mine, and it's hard to write this without feeling drowsy
nostalgic for your touch, and your head in the crook of my neck
your hair is always so soft, and so are your lips and I don't know how
but I like the way they tickle my chin

I can feel your fingers, skimming through my hair, hard to the touch
but with softer intentions they do bear, I could say the same for your heart
cold on the outside, a mix of steel and ice, but on the inside is a battle
of brimstone and fire

I think I'm beginning to understand, your smile when you are asleep,
and the reason behind your favourite books and works of art
I think I'm beginning to understand, why love is a term not to be used lightly
and especially not around you