these are the moments I will immortalise

I will stuff them and give them glass eyes
I will pickle them in jars
I will frame and polish them frequently
and I will make them into a gold chain to be passed down through the generations.

I will share, imprint and bore these memories into my children

they will be both humoured and obsessed with the descriptions
of when their mother embarked on many adventures

when they are young, they will imagine me as a fearless pirate.
as they grow, they will idolise the carefree teenager I am, no - I was.

they will know the times I ventured with friends,
who will hopefully be familiar to my children.
the friends who many years from now will be referred to as 'uncle' and 'aunty'.

they will know about all the road trips
and my habitual late night naps in the back seat
they will know the beat of the drums to the songs we listened to and sung at the top of our lungs
and I will play them to live those moments again -
who says time travel doesn't exist

I hope they will be able to smell the memory, mix of excitement and sweat hanging in the air of the car,
the breath of our youth steamed on the window

my children will know that I fell in love far too young
and, as their mother, these are the world's cruelties I will attempt to educate and shield them from.

because one day, my freckled princess will grow into the queen of her own castle
she'll lift the chin of her own baby and say,

'my mumma said to me, you've got to kiss a few frogs before finding your prince. Don't ever give up hope, because magic exists but it isn't always pretty and he's looking for you like you're looking for him.'

Keep you head down, baby. Keep running, 'cause I promise you're almost there.

but I will not undermine my children
and tell them they are too young to love,
for if they were too young to fall in love, how could they fall unconditionally in love with me?

(as I already am with them, aged eighteen)

I will tell them the stories of how I met their father,
I am unsure as to whether or not I know these stories yet.

We will tell them about the first time our hands interlinked and we instantly felt at home with each-other.
  
           when you know, you know.

We will tell them about the sweetness and innocence that hung on our lips for that very first kiss,
and we will continue to kiss
as if it's that same first kiss
every time
every day

they can not deny true love if they witness it every day of their lives

it will be a living reminder
of the love our children were made from and bought into
and a living reminder
that I loved you,
that I love you
before I knew you...
because you're mine

kisses will be our family heirloom
memories are the best thing I can pass down to you

so my story is still being written
but it is not a forced template for my children's lives

I will hand them pencils, if they wish to draw over their pages
I will hand them fountain pens, if they wish to eloquently craft their words
I will hand them every colour crayon ever made, and let their creativity run  over the pages
as free as their young, bare knees will be on the playground

I wish one day, they will read these words,
and know the memories of my teenage years that have been
and memories of my twenties, thirties, forties and fifties that have yet to be made

I wish they will read these words and they will know that I loved them before they even existed

I will have immortalised these feelings through my words.

So immortalise me, my loves, through your memories.

do you ever wonder how you ended up in a car with this boy, that a year ago you didn't even know?

a year ago you didn't know his name,
you didn't whisper it in your sleep or feel it in your skin

you didn't see reflections of his eyes in the stars or stars in the freckles on his cheeks

a year ago, you didn't think you'd make it to the summer
a year ago, you could never even imagine the possibility of loving someone else

do you ever wonder why you've gone halfway across the country for him and now we're going down these country lanes at 80mph with the full beams on

80mph with the full beams on and I trust you endlessly
80mph and you have classical music on and instead of being scared of the speed, I'm comfortable and tired
80mph in your tshirt, jumper and my pyjama shorts
80mph and I can't see the road ahead of us
but speed up, baby

I'm fallin' for you at 80mph

one day,
every cell in my body will replace itself
and there will be nowhere he has left those criminal fingerprints
and my neck will not be branded,
burnt and owned by his burning lips.
my mouth will be but a stranger to his mouth as it is also renewed
yet still drips that venomous saliva.

the deliverance of such hope is surely a God send.

but every cell in my body wants to dance with you
I feel them vibrating in my inner being.
every cell wants to meet you
they all seek to be on the surface so they can bask in your warmth and light.
they want to live in your complete and pure goodness.

that's why you astound me
you make the very inside of me desire the surface

I want you to be there always,
relearn my body daily
as it grows into something familiar
to you
but also completely new.

I want to give you all of me.
every cell I am now -
they can die at your touch
oh, what a heavenly way to die -
every cell I am to be
is predestined as your possession.

they may not know which cell yet they are to be, but not unlike me,
all they are certain of is that they are yours.

bruise my body with bite marks
spit poison in my mouth
when our lips meet

I want all of you,
endlessly and always.

but you're trying to save me
and instead,
you'll show my eyes sunshine
that gleams from your body
and shines directly from your soul

I'm sorry if sometimes I turn away
but your light is blinding
and I am full of darkness,
dull and destructive

if this bath water could talk, would it expose the secret, man-made imperfections on my body that it currently soothes

                               but initially stings

if the trees could whisper, would they tell of the things they have silently witnessed over the years

some secrets they hold in their bark
some secrets that swallow deep to their very roots

maybe trees are giving away their secrets when their leaves shake in the wind

if this overhead train station clock could talk, would it laugh as it greets friends
would it cry as it separates lovers

did it slow down it's ticking as we embraced at the gates
did it stop completely and take a deep breath in as it witnessed our first, second and third kisses

could it rewind time so I could live those pounding heartbeats once more

if my bedroom walls could talk, would they weep for me, for
they met me when I was a little girl.

do they cry now for my lost future and the woman I am not


(four days.)

for days I have not moved from my bed, if my duvet could comfort me, would it would stroke my hair and tell me it's all in my head


      I wake up and I wish I were dead


oh if things could talk, would we be more eager to listen?

we can hear the lapping of the waves and the whispers in the wind, the creaking of the house and the comfort deep within

but I can speak, so why
won't you listen to me