It’s an addiction
not a lifestyle
or a choice
We’ll say ‘’just this once’’,
but it doesn’t last forever.
So, we’ll try again to see if it works this time.
Alas there’s an endless supply to try again,
Or so we think.
I thought it would be cool
To have a fascination with scars -
Of the Mind and Body
We’ll treat it just this once
“Don’t worry we can fix it”
Can we fix it?
No, I have to.
Just give me some Kool-Aid and boiling water
I gulp it down, but it leaves red stains -
on my arm and around my mouth
I burn my teeth. They’re red too
Don’t worry I’ll change the colour
So it helps you to see
I won’t part from my agony,
It’s not enough to know I’m here.
Let me rot in the corner with my own thoughts and it’s shadows to consume me.
Leave me to my devices made from cold sharp edges
And flames that are sparked by no desire to live.
And I’ll sit quietly
To see if people look my way
No, they look ahead
I find it pretentious to think of.
It’s an addiction
Not a want or a choice
but a feeling to do so.

rotting in the ground from head to toenails
sinking in the twisted earth to let
the flowers grow through concrete
cracks made from whippings and beating of the feet
that stand their man-made ground
whilst the critters and bugs
the rabbits and foxes
the deer and wolves
the prey against predators
Scramble in fear

Tobacco spilt on the floor
Your hair singed from lighting one last night
You creep over me
Your hot breath sits on my collarbone as if to say
“stay longer” or “one more time” and I reply with a kiss on your neck to say
“sure why not”
with a cigarette in my mouth
and scourging for a lighter shifting drugs from the coffee table and empty wine bottles underneath clinking
when I shove them aside with my foot.

“Where is it?” I say

You point to the top of the dresser and I see more beer bottles left behind by their owners and a lighter among them.
upon lighting my cigarette I go to the kitchen and prepare coffee for the both of us
“I love you”
“Are you sure?” I say
“yeah, I’m sure”
when I finish making coffee I crawl back to bed with you
kissing your forehead and say
                     “Thank you”

i was ashamed of us
idk why i was
i just never had him on my lock screen in fear of someone mocking me for being in a relationship
i was scared that i deserved to be in a good relationship
a relationship that slipped so soundlessly into the night whilst i sobbed into his hoodie i wore
it ended in the nighttime the same way it started
it’s was in tatters
i used too much in so little time
impulsive and indulgent was all it was in the end
in the end i felt free
like i has finally let go of a trapped beetle that wiggled about in my clasped
squirming to get out
and i said i loved him so many times
so many times i thought that if i reminded him he was loved, he wouldn’t let go
i was wrong
i was truly standing by myself when he decided to only respond to whatever i was saying
and i knew it was over when i became obsessive of us breaking up because i couldn’t worry anymore
i couldn’t worry about every little thing he was doing
saying
thinking
anything that i could imagine and it came true
i’m so glad it came true
i was so ashamed of us
because it meant that i was going to sabotage this relationship soon and i knew it would be on purpose
just as i have done to myself
never did do anything to deserve these kind things
it’s probably selfish of me that i don’t recognise these kind acts i’ve done but i’ve
humbled myself to the point i’m ashamed of the relationship i’ve had with him
however, would i do it again?
yes, yes i would
do i regret it?
no, no i do not
then why?
because he was simply to good for me.
i could never be ashamed of him
i was just ashamed of myself
for being such a fool to think i was ever forgivable for moving away.

look how restlessly tired i am
so nervously calm i am
uncomfortably peaceful i am

and yet i sit here with a shooting pain to my stomach and a sore *** from sitting too long from travelling too far
when can i stop?
when will i stop?
if i stop…

could i continue to the new side of the same wall i’ve looked at?

there is no epiphany
there is no afterthought
no eureka
no ******

it’s the same wall i’ve looked at with a different view from the other side.

nothing is different
nothing is replaced
no changes
no shift

i’m bored of death
and overtly obsessed
with being a chaotic mess

i’m not afraid of bridges anymore
what’s it’s gonna do?
crumble beneath me?
i hope it does
i hope it consumes me
i hope it buries me underneath its rubble
i hope it suffocates me with impure air
i hope my bones crumble softly
let me see my saviour for the last time as i fall under my bridge  

i hope it hurts
i hope you’ll never save me

i can’t go back with him and if i do it’ll be in vain
i would love to but it would be selfish

i still love him, whenever i see him i just wanna hug him and say “i’m here, i won’t go”
i wanna kiss him on his cheek and just love him

i think about him every day in the little things and say “i remember when he did that”
i wanna feel that love he gave me too again

i miss our cuddles
our conversations about nothing,
the little explanations of everyday things

i miss making you laugh and smile with me
i miss making you blush with simple kind gestures

we met at the right time and place and yet we were just buds
i want us to grow apart and come together again

i want all of these things and know that it will happen

it won’t happen and yet i fantasise
about us at a party, looking at each other from across the room, slowly getting together like magnets and both realising

“i want to be with you right now”
i want to be with you right now and tomorrow
right now and tomorrow

it’s selfish of me
i want only the best after me
after us
after yesterday

i want to discover more new things about you and you to i
it’s not fair

We’ve been here before, I swear.
You used to be hanging off there but still balanced
and you were always stalking me where ever I was
Then you would still be talking non-stop until you did stop and that was rare
And how could I forget you? Always sitting in the corner but for no apparent reason, until you would tell me why
But how come you have left your post you used to be in my face the whole time I’ve wondered here. Where have you gone?
                         I missed you all,
                           please come again…

Snow seeps through the skull.
Cold thoughts for a murderer,
who never killed the innocence
of the host,
of the host to shiver at the sight of purity
And maim the actions that should
Be completed before being caught,
Doing such a devious action...
outside of the warm embers of
Security that would be sought after,
and after they were not,
Held accountable for so many cold nights that were spent lying on the floor
And falling no further more,
They would say
“Come here...and lay with me in the driveway...can you feel it?... the cold, it’s so slow and careful...”

the smoke blows in my favour
it shrouds me in a comforter
that’s heavy on the bones
but light on the souls
that dances around me
singing merry tunes of happy times
and happy times to come
for one soul to connect with another
is a truly pure sight
with passing looks and passing greetings
i would, nevertheless, stay the same

How nice it must be to
lay in a bed you made yourself
To dance with death
and have salvaged your wealth
from underneath the soft
grass
Where you lay in solitude
with no one but daises
and buttercups growing above you
waltzing down the aisle
in the blessed church
of where sins are repented &
forgiven when you had the urge to
Go tell your father that
you’ve ran away with a gypsy and a jew
He’ll kneel for you when he
prays
He’ll kneel for you at his favourite pew
The one with enough light from the odd church window
that looked like it would crack
any time the wind blew

Oh, to be in a soft bed of earth and
sinking no further in than at the root of daisies and buttercups

F*k, I’m sorry…so sorry
I should’ve known the risks of being your friend.

You give, You take.
What’s yours is yours
And what’s mine is yours.
Thank you for letting me know why I’m your friend,
Why I even talk to you.
I don’t regret any decisions I’ve made because that’s what being a teenager who ages too fast does to you.
EVERYTHING AFFECTS YOU
like the world would crumble if a feather touched you.

You seek joy and blame and hurt and love and s*x like
They’re all shoved into one neatly wrapped present with a bow tie on it, including a note from me and many others saying:
“Enjoy life, love, destroy it while it lasts”

I can’t say anything around without that upper lip of yours where you’re more hurt than any of us.

I forgive you, so terribly much.

But it would all mean nothing if you couldn't forgive me for being so disrespectfully drunk.

You do not miss me

You miss the memories that we’ve created and crave more

You do not miss me

You will miss the way I talked with you and conversed many ideas with you too

You do not miss me

You missed the presence of me being there

You will never miss me

Because you will only live on the memories you’ve had of me

You will never miss me

You should never miss me

It was the numbing kind of feeling

the feeling you get when the senses in your limbs when they’ve been starved of blood or oxygen

The kind where it prickles whenever you move

It was the kind of sensation
ghat was felt throughout the whole body

Not in one spot
Not in the general area
but so, like
it was everywhere
it felt like your whole body
was imploding with too little oxygen

****

But you don’t scream
nor shout

Nor a whisper will
pass your lips
just the shear horror
at why you even reacted at all….

The lingering smell of smoked tobacco and pub drinks stained his worn down leather jacket.
It’s soaked in your nose and seeped to your tongue. You can just taste the paper being burnt.
The silky stickiness of your leather jacket crinkled like soft leaves underneath my feet in autumn.
With the warm interior of your jacket, holds many memories of loving hugs.
I’ve missed our good night kisses and bedtime stories.
And those innocent questions of what happened next
As I laid in bed, my mind wondered many thoughts of how it ended.
Hearing your roars of laughter filled the rooms with much love that was to be shared.
seeing you stand outside with your cigarette in hand, shifting it to your mouth and back.
Whilst you’re looking beyond the overgrown hedges past the worn down houses and over the field of streets. Is an answer.
Your answer
To your question that has remained unsolved to this day.

Soft bushy mane moves from side to side on cotton cloud,
Vague vision dance around on the pink bubbles with no intention of staying behind, ‘Stead leave pitter patter foot steps of colours of love and hatred to taunt you when you wake,

However, nor scared nor assured what to do when in state of your paralysis,

Now, you, in the state would not mind being threatened by nightly visitors,

Who would put chains and shackles on you and would you fight back? You try and try and try and try and try,
but don’t you think deep down that these nightly visitors are just there because you want them to be?

Then again, why not?

Doth thee not know
Or hath come for books
There’s a maiden here who’s knowledge’s grows
She takes them by thine binder and gives them shook
Listens for the t1nkle of the bell
And then decides if it’s divine
She learns about earth and below, hell
She learns about heaven and takes some of mine

i found it
i found it in the reflection of the cigarette ashes floating
in a pool of wine that laid next to me

i found it at the end of my chewed up nails with chipped varnish
and dirt within them

i found it amongst the blacked out  T.V.

i found it beneath my rotten teeth and decaying gums

i found it hidden between the legs of another

i found it underneath a dust ridden bed holding dead rodents as hostages

i found it amongst other things
but i couldn’t find it beating in my chest, grabbing a breath from the next one, like picking off a fruit from a vineyard, almost religiously

i couldn’t find it behind my dirt ridden eyes, forever washing away with each droplets of tears

i couldn’t find carved on my rib or engrained on my skull that has a build up of discarded flesh and muscle

i found it before...
so what’s to stop me from finding it now?...

A Beast has emerged
from the dark depths of
their cave.

New horns every tuesdays and new languages every thursdays

Angry at the world they
have submerged themselves
into and
Angry at their passerby dwellers

They claim what they are not
and not claimed to be so
instead they say they are one thing and one thing they are

Unpredictable and unruly they be
  but understanding and caring that they will as pleased

they are all soft to the core if one were to speak to them (or so I have learned)
They all want to be loved, to be cared for and to be
heard

Oh handsome monster
You don’t need to explain the pain you’ve caused
I already knew you from my neighbours past thoughts
I unhinged on you my nonviolent fringe
Where a ****** of crows cannot see me through my own soul
And there I laid upon my own cloud nine
Where you could not fathom those simple dreams of mine
Of mine to be with another soul
That’s unlike of me when you came in and I didn’t want that

please stop it’s stays on there
it’s permanent
everyone will see it eventually
please i’m begging you it’s okay
it’s okay to cry
cry
it hurts me so much
promise me you’ll stop please
i’ll hold you
i can do that just
please stop it not going to get better like that
you're choosing a harmful path
it’s so bad and damaging
please come back
i can hold you
it’s alright
it will be fine
just stay with me please
i can’t bare it
i like you
like really like you
i love you even
please
love me back

I’ve grown accustomed to the want and need of this house
It’s clear that its full of memories
Things are not what they seem
They are no reasons for me to stay here anymore
There is no reason for me not to leave
I can’t show off any more scars you left behind on me
So please
Whilst there’s light on no ones there and it’s gone
All the strings that had me tangled and wrapped up
You had me blindfolded with the wools pulled over my eyes
You had the apple from Eves garden to stifle the scream I had
You had headphones on me to drown out the outside world
Then when I thought we were safe I let my guard down and trusted you to create memories for me to remember and discarded the ones that had me in tears
This isn’t love
That was trap

I danced with a boy today.
He was lovely.
He was gentle and kind.
I held him close to me and felt his breathing against my neck very quietly, but hesitant.
We danced around in waltz and danced like crazy.
We were looking like idiots.
But I didn’t mind.
He would step on my toes every now and again but I didn’t mind it.
I like him too much to say anything.
But he would of course apologise to me and say he likes me too.
He’s just a bit clumsy that’s all.
This was our first date.

I married a boy today.
He carried me home in bridal style which is very fun.
We’ve settled in a new spot and made plans for honeymoons too.
We’ve made plans to go somewhere nice but he didn’t want to anymore.
But that was fine by me.

I’m pregnant but he is hardly around anymore because he’s off working or with friends.
But I don’t mind as long as he’s happy.

He came home one night and hit me.
It was an accident of course because he was drunk.
I’ve got a black eye.
It’s technically purple and blue but nothing a little make up can’t fix. Right?

I have a son. His name is beautiful but He wanted His son to be called something else.

He’s angry at me for not cooking food on time.
To be honest I have been quite lazy since the baby arrived. I’ve not done the housework or cooking.

He came back angry again tonight he had to sleep on the couch.

I’ve been hit again. he wanted me to cover it up and he says he’s sorry so it’s fine.
My son turned 2 today we had a chocolate cake and it was delicious.

Me and Him went out for drinks to celebrate His birthday with His friends.

They were lovely.

We danced again.
Don’t know how long it’s been since we did.
We danced like crazy and we didn’t look like idiots this time.

He said he wanted to drive but I was the sober one.
He hit me too hard this time and I hit the side of his car denting it.

Sorry.
For denting  your car.

I'm dancing with a boy today.
He held me close and said ”I like you”.

imagine yourself stuck in mud.
Not the kind in the woodlands but the kind by the seaside that leads far out among the shoreline.
Now imagine you’re stuck in this tough mousse  like mud and you’re knee deep in it.
but you don’t want to really move from it but more wait for something to happen. but you’ve seen it before it just came back
differently and in another form.
can you imagine this?
Now imagine it for nearly a whole week,
tough isn’t it?
how about a whole month or maybe even for a whole year?
Now imagine this for the rest of your life.
It’s difficult
Sometimes you’ll see something you’ll like and other times you won’t.
But most of the time you’ll still be stuck.
and in the survival mode for a long, long time.
that takes up a lot energy to use.
and it can get all over the place and make no sense for you so stop and just accept it.

So you just stop and accept the waves slowly
forming around as
you’re stuck knee deep in the
seaside mud and
you let it happen.
because you’ve gone past the point of caring
whether the waves will
come back again because
you see they always
do and you can’t stop it
not like Caligula did
as he whipped at it relentlessly
for his drive of anger was for Poseidon
No
All you have now is,
is this sinking muddy
terrain with the sea
rolling in and out,
dusk til dawn,
Hot till cold,
But you always understood
Why this were to happen for
the sake of the moon rolling in the tides and pulling them
back out as if it were
inevitable
as you are stuck stranded
on the sandy muddy horizon
With no one but your lonely self

that would be my plan to
trip, fall, stumble
i would lay there
not quite lifeless
but hanging on the edge
of my mind
never wondered further
than a tiptoe away from
her body and no
further would i want to be,
could she see me?

it doesn’t do anything
i hope, at least
it felt really nice
like that itch lingering around
so i just scratched myself
which helped sometimes
but most of the times it felt useless
no matter how hard i try i just
felt useless
use it or lose as they say
so i think i’ll use it for worse
and lose it for the better
because after i address myself
you will no longer be need my assistance
i don’t live for me
i live for them and them only
because my purpose in this world is
indefinite
indefinite as the job of a flower which is
to survive harsh seasons and wait bitterly for the nicer ones
because as time goes by they live for others and grow for others
which **** near impossible and
too simple of a job to have

I wonder what it’s
like to be submerged
underneath all that water
whilst your blood rushes
to your head
while you struggle for
another single gasp of
breath.
While you silently
drown underneath all
the wasted air
trapped in the bubbles
whilst they float to
the top?
Could you feel your
own scream against
your own throat
rising to your head
and feel it forming
in your ears
and it would just
be you?
Just you floating, drifting, wondering, carelessly through
the vast uninhabitable
ocean.
All the while you feel
your own heartbeat
in your chest rising
to your head and feel
it throbbing in your ears.

I wonder.

So help me lord!
for I have sinned,
and for that price I will pay,
I will bite my lips till they're red,

So help me lord!
I have done wrong,
by you and say such words,
I will take lashings on my hands and knees,

So help me lord!
but I’ve been bad,
and thought that wrong choices,
i’ll lock myself in my room till I have no more spark for the dark.

Ah! So! help! me! LORD!
How should i repent?!
For all the pain i’ve caused you!
I’ll give my life to a worthy cause
by the likes of you.

so help me lord...
i have strayed away from the path you built before me,
and chose to go down
this rabbit hole, unwavering.

So Help Me Lord!
for i have sinned,
And for that price i will pay
I will sit silently chewing away at my own thoughts,
Thinking what might have been.

what should i do?
do i text them??
it feels to awkward and useless,
it feels wrong.
but it feels wrong to discard a friendship that has changed me.
and more self aware too.
but at the same time i’m glad that i don’t have to talk to them but i worry from time to time and it hurts so i don’t want to text them out of guilt and instead out of memory.
but how?
should i just text them “hey, it’s been awhile, sorry about that, hope you’ve been doing well”
that’s actually good.
but it’s too late now. or is it?
i don’t know…

i hope you are doing well and that you will be in the future.

where’s the blood?
the warmth i’m missing,
where’s your hand to hold on to
when i leave.
when i leave, i’ll be crawling to the exit leaving a trail
like a slimy snail
with my shell cracked open and the fluids leaking.
like a snail, the salt wounds me, making me die of a salty death.
like a snail.
the blood has drained my humanity
and it’s on your hands.

Trudging by
Sifting through tar
One tug after tug
Pulls after pulls
Twists after twists
I'm clawing away from my homestead
Grasping for the surface,
Clearing my path with
One stroke after stroke
Grunt after grunt
Push after push
I'm dreadging along
Each inhale a prayer,
Each stomp getting softer,
Smoother, silkier.
Simpler, with that sliver of warmth

God, this household is so suffocating.
She's so ******* suffocating.
I love my Mum so much; she is my anchor and my world.
But god, the world is too much for me.
I just feel so lost in space.
She just wants what's best for me, as any typical mother does.
But by god, she is suffocating.
I love her so much, but each time I try to understand her, get closer to her, I ******* burn myself each time.
I almost never recover sometimes.
I could go for months not seeing her and still feel ****** for not calling, texting or visiting her, but I don't because I almost never want to.
I  never tell her all things I should tell her but I don't because she can never just sit and listen, she has to give her much advised wisdom and knowledge on what I should do most efficiently.
I don't want to do anything efficiently; I just want to breathe.
Live my life moment by moment, but she worries if I crash and burn myself.
So ******* what.
Let me.
I can't make any mistakes when I should.
She'd say,
"of course, you should make mistakes; it's what makes you grow into a more developed person".
So ******* let me do so then.
"Do you have a backup plan? What are you doing after that? What is going to happen after this? Where would you go? Why are you so all over the place?"
Because I'm still learning how to find my footing, and if you'd let me, I'd get there.
"But you're not there now. It's been a while; what have you been doing instead? You've wasted all that time and money for what? You should get a job. When are you going to learn to drive? Where are you going to get this money?"
Shut the **** up. Just stop it. I'll come to you when I need your help.
In the meantime, just try to support me from a distance, as I have loved you.
Your repetition is grating my ears, and you hate to repeat yourself, but you still do it and will do it again and again.
This vicious cycle we're both in will never stop unless one of us pulls out.
And I'll do that first.
To stop hurting both of us.
We don't rub each other the wrong way.
We don't understand each other the right way.
I'd be useless without your lead, but please, for the love of god, let me walk my own way.
I'm still young.
"When I was your age"
You had all the freedom, will and determination to build your own life.
Let me do the same.
I love you, Mum.
So terribly much.
But it hurts both of us if you view me as yourself.
I can't possibly picture myself with your own life, and I don't want to.
I know you know that, too.
I am me.
And you are you.
I genuinely wonder, Mum, how do you view me?
What am I to you?
I know what you are to me.
You're my mum, my guidance, my world.
And I'm so sorry if I come off as ungrateful, ignorant, arrogant or naïve.
However, I'm still learning to be your child and to be happy.
I'm still learning.

She said she loved me
She said she cared
She said “hold me”
And hold her, I did

Would she have loved me
if I said yes?
would she have a loved me
if I said no?
She would love me
When I was there
She would love me
When I said “I’m here”

Could she have loved me
When I was far?
Could she have loved me
When I was gone?
She could love me
if I have been near
She could love me
if I cared

Should she have loved me if I killed her?
Should she love me if I died?
She should love me
when I was vulnerable
She should love me
when I was close off.

She said she loved me
So it must be true.

i made a room for
you in my mind it’s lovely
please stay here for now

the sun looks youthful today

Busy, busy bee.
Busy, buzzy bee.
Whirring, wizzing, watching.
Carving, sculpting, moulding
a new form, filling the hole
with a masses of honey,
dotted all over, mashed with a neighbour.

Busy, busy bee.
Busy, dizzy bee.
Shifting, shoving, showing.
Wiggling, writhing, whining.
Coated in honey, scraping
out little bubbles.
In….
Out….

Busy, busy bee.
Busy, thinking bee.
Licking, inhaling, choking.
Taste, make haste, quickly.
In….
Out….
In….
Out….

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack

Magnified vision, tight body structure, scrunched up hair with fire for a face,

It spews loud language and is accompanied with its infamous sharp swords that stabs your brain,

As you are to be gluttonous with thousands of words  and later to be bulimic on dots and circles,

They can go both ways with extreme tendencies to use loud language or to say that they are force-feeding you,

As you are supposedly to be gluttonous or the lapdog or to be the destructive or the impatient or to be the dumb one,

I mean we all know where we are Placed on the hierarchy, the scrunched-up-hair knows where the destructive ones go, but they’re just bored what else can they do?

And all the same with the dumb ones to be put at a slower pace, but they can’t help that, people just don’t understand that their brain is faster than their hands, what do you think of their handwriting?

And I don’t love lapdogs because they’re loud and do everything you tell them to,

This is mainly because they scare them selves that they’re not trying hard enough and it’s never ever good enough to the see one result that their owner are good with, basically, try-hards,

And this is what the tight-body-structure comes in to, full of these and more.

Then they are ones that don’t spew loud language or have tight body structure and instead have novel face, bejewelled hands and wild hair.

Theses ones speak with laughter and love because they know that is how it should be,

But, sadly, I feel like it’s taking over them and that they learn the hierarchy too well it becomes to a point with just one movements that you are done for.

Tell me, if we all had the same teacher teaching us how to be smart, then if not our parents, teach us love and passion,

What if they taught us how to speak our minds or is that not what they’re doing?

What if the teacher taught us manners or is that not what they’re  doing? Is that how you teach manners to some? You lock them up in solitary confinement but is that teaching how to be kind or is there no time for it?

Is that how you teach?

Tedious - too long, slow or dull; tiresome or monotonous.

You could see from his last night’s  quarrel,
Around the room of his eyes were red and puffy.
His speech is the expert in telling omitted truths.
His teeth rotted with prolonged exposure to light and white lies.
his eyes were mixed with anger and confused sadness
no doubt about it
he certainly wasn’t patient with the answer that we gave him
he was too greedy
he never got past breakfast with him being full of **** last night
he wasn’t a time bomb -
he was the aftermath of the explosion.
No actions were thought through
Except to have one goal; one ambition
to have control
Control and the greedy need of “affection“ that wasn’t attended.
Albeit, he was falling apart
But what can I do
I am the child and he is the adult
But perhaps just because he’s an adult he would learn and know better.
And I hope he does.
But I won’t wait for him to sort his **** out
I’ll happily make my way down to my own street.
Where I can finally think in peace.

The blade against my skin was
So tempting,
flirtatious and teasing

The blade pressed on my skin
felt so smooth, so clean, so close
to piercing through
A barrier I’d never thought to break

The blade upon my skin
touched a nerve
that i didn’t have to explore
as i roamed it before

The blade’s sharpness on my skin
just scratching the surface
begging to feel deeper inside me
to feel the warmth I never saved

The blade dripping in wealth
which I never shared
not even to myself
But I let it all bleed out

The blade i gripped to my skin
never felt colder than the hand
I held to myself
To be accountable for a crime I committed

It was like a red
silk ribbon
That wrapped around
my hand flowing
over each vein,
wrinkles and gaps
that were available
and tied a bow
at my wrist
it was so pretty
that I let it
hold onto me
where ever I went
but one day I felt a loss
The loss of a feeling
in one of my fingers.
others suggested I cut it off,
another said to take it
off.
But only a few
people knew whilst
all the others
admired its beauty
like I did.
It did cause me pain
from time to time but
I always forgive it.
I sometimes see the
marks it left behind on
my skin.
I kept telling myself,
“don’t worry, it’s nothing
too major, it will heal soon”
But there I laid
wounded and tired
reclusive and timid
distant and lonely
sad and conflicted.
Your bounds on me
got tighter and tighter
and tighter
and tighter
as the
years went
on.
I was worried about
every move I made
every sound I said
every looks I had
every time, all the
time.
One day I had enough,
because you went too far
and hurt everyone I
care for.
I couldn’t salvage our
friendship, but only miss it
as the hour went by.
So I ripped off that silky
ribbon
Strand by strand
until there was none left to pick at

I am sorry for the pain I’ve caused and I forgive you in return. But I cannot let you latch onto me again where it does no one good.

I felt death staring at me
Their eyes outlining my figure
Not saying a word
Nor breathing down my neck but lingering in the sense of forewarning.
not there as a reminder of the end but more so as a reminder to say to myself that we had a
“deal with me” to bet on our souls and
Who would win?
Me or them?

They make very compelling arguments  
Which dug into my skin as tally marks
Counting all the way up to
Them.
But I, on the other hand, also make very sturdy and snide remarks towards them and try to show who is in control.
Which won’t be me any longer.

This is not a goodbye note but more so of a welcome one.
So.
Welcome back.

My thoughts do rove over conversation in the past
Such thoughts do linger
And creep round my tongue fast.

Herding them to the back gates and locked them there
Some manage to slip ‘round and through.

They’re a black mass of goo that float and stain everything in reach.

However many laughs that I have or stare at people in awe
There will still be that lingering thought floating in the back of my mind, staining.

With thunderous bang of a distanced drum, I still feel it

My eyes do wonder though there’s nothing to wonder about and my mind a blank slate but covered with the black goo

I want to feel ugly
I want to feel ******
Useless to myself on Thursdays
Let me push myself away
I don’t wanna suffocate right now
I need an oxygen tank
Let me breath myself in
Let me feel myself again
Let me look at myself in true reflection
The perfect and imperfection
And let me look at them
I never thought this was vital
Of my true revival

Until I’m here - no, don’t wait

I have come to the end of my rage
I have come to the end of my days
Please don’t fear me now
I wish to love you still.
I have highlighted useless things
I have spoken such empty sayings
I have gave away that are much overdue
I have done all that there is to do
Please be another sentence longer as I write you down
In my book of endings
Please be another comma,
for I shouldn’t be left hanging onto some threads, they have started fraying.
Let’s watch another sunset again
for another day
Let’s feel the brown grass underneath our feet in late May.
Lets smell the ice cream van from a few streets away and pay with a little money we could spend.
I could love you
But that would be sordid of me.
I would cheat you out of forgiveness
but I’m sorry.
We could love again
But we both know
So, i have to let you go.

when did she go?
I lost her far before
I met her,
On that awkward morning
of our first lesson together
She (of course) had no intention
of speaking to me
mainly because I asked her
what her hobby was

When did I lose her?
Was it when we got too
close together as two flames
should not be
that we burned the
forest down with us?
Leaving charred marks
on the floor of our
devastation

Our will to hold on
was never everlasting
as one of us was bound
to slip away
to the smoke
and our flames would
reduce to when we
were scrawny helpless
tweens

But my love for you will remain evermore, until the last star burns out in the last galaxy of the last universe.

Your rosy lips, makes that precious smile of yours.

Your hair falls in place when you move it from your lips

Your scent of summer azaleas and autumn honeysuckle that lingers when you walk by.

Your eyes hide a secret. But God forbid that anyone knows it.

How you left me weak when you spoke is a mystery.

Such intelligence you have a hidden is unspoken for, but please, don’t stop.

I want to hear more.