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Feb 2013 · 607
Futile
Grace Eccleson Feb 2013
It doesn't matter does it
No matter how hard you try the rain will still seep into your shoes
on the cold Febuary mornings that are too short and so long
No one cares the time it took to learn the tricks
and how you sat there, staring at the wall and the back of a red head
until your feet were numb and your eyes began to doubt

If i had a child I would tell them to never go down the path I wanted
It is too bumpy and full of old trees like the path that beauty looked down before choosing to ride.
I would ask them to keep dreams small and feelings smaller
and fill their big eyes with present not hope.
But I would have lied, and in lying only woken to want to dream again

I want so much.
And it feels too big for one body to take the knocks that rein down.
and its only the second one.
Dec 2012 · 518
Just a fall
Grace Eccleson Dec 2012
It doesn't stop does it?
The falling.
If you never knew when it started.
Or never accepted it.
I guess then you wouldn't know when you'd hit the bottom

I don't know how to stop it
Reaching for his hand with all of me
But knowing there is too much of him
Or IT.
Whatever it, is.

Like watching a small child stumble and **** on their mothers arm.
But I can't be his mother
Lover.

And seeing the slow motion lurch open
in glorious high definition high spec
The tug on the tendons and thunk of sockets
ricochet and ripple uncontrolled.
So uncontrolable.

When did he trip?
Why can't I tell?
Or was the not telling the making as well?

I refuse to watch the rabbit hole swallow
If he goes down
I will always follow.
Dec 2011 · 859
Clearance
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
Cursing the crap cluttered coats hanging in their rigor-mortis regiments
only to fall to the floor again
and again.
I cannot speak to insufferable sirens but suffer alone instead
Crying into the soft white bread and texting tormentedly
Lost is everything insignificant that I desperately require
Gone is the fear of Sugared words: 'you're fired'
Leaving for more clustered, flustering days
that fade to an unreachable haze
I sit inside time, it taunts my heart
flashing past in joy and in bordem refusing to part
Decisions must be decided and lessons must be learnt
as I shall push myself, but this should hurt more,
More shoved into my core
which trembles flabbily inches from the floor.
Do not question me
Do not inquire
Just provide me with the life i desire.
Forgive my childishness and ranting scrawl.
But i'm tired, and I only see days before a fall
Dec 2011 · 638
Tea Shop
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
The tea on my table sits drained
and has done for some time.
A cold ring lying in the china cradle.
My back hurts.
I feel the soft pink leather on my fingers
and it reminds me of my time to count.
I worry there is too little to fill so much.
I ask for a refill
Something soothing in ritual pouring
filling my air with curls of steam
Glance at the watch again.
Suddenly I think of him.
Hope he's doing ok.
I write questions to pass time and stop the slight shaking
i wish someone would close that door
and hope someone will accept me.
Dec 2011 · 581
I want to show you
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
I want to show you the stars on my wall at night
How my skin looks in the pale green light
We'd lie there side by side
And i'd show you those stars

I want to show you Painswick fields in the sun
Where me and my friend often run
to hide away from the world
And we'd hide in those fields

I want to show you the house by the sea
From a time before you and me
I'd feel your hand in mine
And we'd look out beyond

I want to show you something most of all
That makes all those places seem small
I'd use all the words I can
And I'd show you just how happy I am
Dec 2011 · 562
Sylvia
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
Tell me...
are you...
am I part of the mad?
Reading the thoughts that you had.
Not so unlike mine
well...
lies.
My thought process...
So similar to your narrative.
Will I too bend
Under the stress?
Gas
So suitible for your end
Not clogging or burning
but watching the air bend
drifting into emptiness...
where you felt trapped.
A fitting closure.
Tell me
Was it your mind that finished you?
Your own self
Drove your self-taking?
Please
I need to know if i'll be my end too.
Dec 2011 · 724
Consumed
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
What a strange sensation is adoration.
Totally consumed by thoughts of him.
taken, but given in utter frustration
Myself, my love, infatuation.
Consused, yet careless and
yet so full of care!
Wanting to weep, only if you're there.
Wanting pain
for the pleasure of consuming comfort.
Wanting you
Yet deliberately avoiding
So I don't lose you.
Knowing you understand
but never can
Hoping you know
but never will
Dec 2011 · 590
Thank you
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
For the message at one-thirty five:
I would like to say thank you.
For the smile that makes me glad to be alive:
Thank you.
For hearing my name being called with your voice
For stupid gushings: 'I'm so glad i'm your choice!'
For not cringing at my unashamed adoration
For asking for nothing and understanding my education
For making me happier than i've ever been.
Rob,
I would like to say Thank you.
Dec 2011 · 580
After Argument Angst
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
Take away the chains
Smash the shackled gloom
Tear away the tether
Blow up the ****** room!

Tell her to **** it
**** the whole **** thing
I don't care anymore
Just make her head ring

Shut up the piercing voice
Banish Monotone tones
Choke away the chiding tongue
Stop her ceaseless moans

But spare the shame of being seen
in anger, spite or hurt
Let her never know the pain
It takes to change what's learnt

Please never let this me be seen
this self I will conceal
I choose to never show the world
I choose never to feel
Dec 2011 · 450
Period 2 Pondering
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
Being bored in English
Sleepy period 2
wondering what it would be like
To wake up next to you
Dec 2011 · 439
Coursework
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
A word from the weary
dear friend
GSCE coursework
does not end.
Dec 2011 · 447
The brightest things
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
When the brightest thing in your room is the night sky,
and that light cuts through the curtains onto your wall.
Then the shadows come out to play
Across your darkened spaces.

Opening your eyes you find no comfort in the blackness
No colours you could feel you knew
Just shapes that taunt you with their changes

For in the dark, other things are highlighted
Thoughts not welcome in the innocent day
Memories in those shadows
Urges unearthed
In that bright night sky
Dec 2011 · 1.2k
Pressure to be Pretty
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
Pressure to be pretty in the unearthly hours of the morning
Eyes pulled down by bags, bloated and yawning
Eyeliner and lipgloss and concealer thick and fast
Covering the callouses, praying it'll last

looking good and smelling good and in the peak of health
Its all an uphill struggle to better your fine self
Judged by a jury of unexperienced youths
Panicing at lunchtime, retouching in the loos.

Hair and eyes and lips and cheeks and clothing and skin
Bottle after bottle, empty in the bin
Scraping and slathering, plucking and plastering.
The never ending problem, thats actually, within.
Dec 2011 · 1.3k
Auditions
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
Hours of work
not given a second glance.
But trying again,
Just for that chance
Dec 2011 · 938
Roadkill
Grace Eccleson Dec 2011
No horns, or box, or mourning
No tears, or even thoughts
This was not a young child's friend
Cruller to be uncaught?

The mangled body lies
on concrete hot and firm
No use or care for man
not even for the worm

Better to die quickly,
then rot in open sun
than slowly fade in forests
and ever merge as one?

Us humans, we know better,
we will bury a friend.
We may **** our own kind
but you'll go in style at the end

— The End —