by the turn of the clock
i have not done as i said
my head and i have frailed
lonely and failed becomes

god i was so young
i'm looking back on old photos
and there's a glint in my eye i didn't notice
a small hope that you felt the same way
you'd break my heart but only briefly
always at your beck and call
my hair was vibrant and purple
and too many freckles to count
i don't pine for you anymore
just old me and the time we lost

every detail is etched in my brain
the sense of entrapment following my school teachers
dear old mum was there too
surrounded in a sense
the photographs were placed in front of me
dread soaking my (so far) untainted lungs
i admit it was me

the car journey was awful
cheery songs plague through the seats and i let the tears flow freely
**** the hospital for being so far
sympathetic glances are shot my way
and i hate each and everyone of them
i get several prep talks about my existence but all i can focus on
is my stupidity of getting caught
and my burning hatred for you

monday rolls around and i am released
more glances and harsher whispers
i don't know who told and i don't care
"is it true?" *******
you don't care about what i would have done,
you just need new gossip

their idea of help isn't helpful
years of bottling doesn't get fixed by kind words or well meanings

the torment worsens
yet i get punished for biting back

a girl who should not have seen
the turn of her 16th birthday
is facing the consequences
of actions chosen for her
and now she waits 6 days
maybe less maybe more

Whether it stings or collects honey,
it is always a bee.
And you are a bee.

To grow is to develop,
as we all do with age.
A seed becomes a flower, a tadpole into a frog.
But you, you are a bee.

Yes, I'm denying your change.
Because to change is to show and you only
seem to tell.
To tell me, of all people, you've grown.

A bee is still a bee,
whether it stings or not.

A marble statue down the isle.
Picturesque as you want me,
an image in ivory.
My heart breaks to say it,
or it would if i cared,
but for me to be authentic and
marble, as you want me,
then I should be painted neon and worshiped
accordingly.

Should not be sobbing in her bed at night,
over the concept of change.
Things have changed before, and things will
eventually change again,
for it is the only constant in our lives.
But still, I can't let it go,
as the granary slips through my fingers.

I crave the mediocrity
as a scorned woman tainted by spoils
seeking the excitement with water has left
exhaustion and a lesson learned
I miss it sometimes
such as lily misses the sun
nurtured and shrived

all i ask
is when you see my weep
turn away
pretend it's not happening
the embarrassment i'm feeling out ways that of yours

when i'm angry walk away
let me vent and scream and cry
leave me alone
i will always come back to you

when i'm panicked don't touch me
don't communicate or look at me worried
it's okay to leave me and ignore
i will never hold it against you

Amazing now,
children in love.
I pay time away, let them love.
Lose yourself in each other,
hold out.
It'll end, course it will.
Ah, but that doesn't mean you should stop.
Love freely and open yourselves.
Time is cruel but now,
now is beautiful.

I want to tear you off,
cauterize the wound,
and never think of you again.
How dare barbarism overcome
something that has grown upon me?
Turned from child into tumor.
One part of my body I actually
had grown to appreciate,
soiled by a sober man
to a drunk teenager.

i often laugh about it with friends
how absurd some of the scenes can be
the bizarre and the taboo
even the funny ones at times
when we are young we are taught
of how *** is nothing but intimate
and serious (and deadly)
yet in this modern age,
we find sitting on a cone will do
or dressing as a spider and perusing your prey
is just the bee's knees

In another life,
we would wake up intertwined.
Silly grins on our faces,
and teasing each other about
our morning breath.

In that life,
we are kind and loving.
Playful kisses, and reasonable fights.

To me, you will never be
The one that got away.
Instead, I let go of something
that was not meant for this life.

It's a promise they make to you.
Just after you do it.
When your lungs are freshly pumped,
and your wrists bandaged up.

The age old lie,
"It get's better, give it time."

How much time must I give to you?
You insistent slime.
How dare you claim to have an answer,
when there was no question at all?
Only a solution.

I wrote my oath in my blood and scarred my skin,
in my meek desperation to find something.
Anything!
I've cursed my organs and raptured my throat.
If I dare let myself think about it, then I can still
taste the bile I swallowed.

And yet. Still.
I am here.
I have been cursed to wander this world for eighteen years now,
and not one thing I have found has given me my answer.

It's not a sign, It is a burden.

For the first time, in a long time
I lost myself.
no, no. Not lost...
Indulged myself.

How foolish of me to think that it was you
who was red
Ha!

It's not lust or love that surrounds you,
but rather the pure, unfiltered wrath
which engulfs and consumes me.

I do believe I have found a new mistress,
and I am loving the red.

when it is dark out and the world no longer listens
i sit there and think
about all the times i caused hurt to myself
because of my bull-ish qualities
maybe i should let go
let loose
lie down and become a rug
so what if they all secretly hate me
love doesn't need to be explicit

i'm aware of the patterns
of course i am
it's just unfortunate that my flight instinct is stronger
just sit back 'sea
let them say it
words are meaningless anyway
deep down they love you
no they don't
is it happening again?
my fault or theirs?
look at their eyes
it's slight but they glance away
that doesn't mean anything
yes it does

who cares
there's always someone better
seven billion and i'm going through fast

every artist needs one
so would it be vain to place my intent for a muse
into my path of self loathing

darling, let's not bicker tonight.
hold my hand for just an hour longer
and we can waltz around this edge.
you shan't tempt me tonight,
although my defense is slipping.
why don't we kiss away the light
tonight,
and step into the dark?

No day will be heaven,
if I don't find a problem I will cause one.
My emotions are oceanic-
unpredictable at best.
I don't speak well,
and don't think before.
I don't know if I can fully love you.
I can be obsessive and distant at the same time.
Physical contact is sometimes suffocating,
blame that on drunk men,
and I'm apathetic.

You met me in brown,
knew me through red
and i suppose you favoured purple.
Black and green came and went- but you never really saw those,
and brown was temporary again.

And the stinging is worth it,
to be a colour you never met.

she comes out every hour
I see her sporadically
desperately ******* the life from
the hollowed stick she brings
a new one each time.
sometimes she stands and looks
up at the stars
her breath not far ahead of her
and i watch her from the window
slowly loving her with every passing moment

effervescent in winter
yet drawled in summer
i despise the way you crawl over my mind
scratching each surface
this position could have landed to anyone
anyone but you

two spoonfuls and a dash of honey
it changes but its this for now
my only dependency
and it isn't even sentient

i have rough days quite frequently
and it's nice to come home to the bitter
yet homely taste

I'm not an emotional woman.
I cry scarcely and secretly,
but there's something to be said
about seeing the rain
for the first time in years,
that truly and utterly
moved me to tears.

im constantly chasing my life
clinging to the jagged rocks
so tantalisingly close
then the crimson threads under my nails
envelops me in a blanket of scarlet
suffocating me sofly
till i remind myself to breathe and i pull away
and i call out to my life
deliberately ignoring the ruby spots
thread together the tattered parts
soothe it with honey and lemon
until the crimson threads under my nails
until the crimson threads under my nails
until the crimson threads

it doesn't get better
learn this now
if i can save you from the longing
endless nights when that's all you crave
you're wasting time
nothing gets better
only situations change
you were born alone and you'll die alone
i'll be with you
of course
but do not doubt that if given the chance
i would not hesitate to leave you

it's fuzzy at the edges
my ground feels real but i'm sane enough to know better
real you wouldn't hold me like this
so gentle and tender
saying everything right and still making me laugh
your actions scream dream

when the blinding light returns
and i'm out and about
i see you
and i know you're real because you look away

I cannot love a Dido
so it remains unfortunate that you are, Dido.
Your love is riddled by a curse,
and my flight remains stronger than fight.
You cannot threaten your life on our love,
and expect me to stay in your grasp.
I loved before you, Dido, and I will love after you.
Do not bound me to Carthage, when a great Empire is calling to me.

i hate lana del ray for reasons beyond her control
I've never met the woman
i don't care about her personal life
nor how she spends her time
and i only listen to her when the radio dictates
but she makes my love think of me
and for that i hate her

i daren't even ask how it came
that my body and soul may be thrown across the sea.
yet i know this isn't the first time
in a life previous you hurt me too

pity we live in a seaside town
because i can't stand the smell
of those cheaply made and over sugared things
3 pounds for a bag of six
and we'd sit and eat them
not all mind you,
the doughy texture would always become too much
and we'd admit defeat before one of us lays claim to them
i wince every time my friends plead to get some
and offer them around
because nothing on this green earth
could ever remind me more of you

manipulation is a bad quality
but ****, does it feel good to do it.
i never go to extremes, i'm not that bad
just a taste, small things
the power it gives is inexplicable
it makes me want more
test the waters and see how far i can go

is it selfish of me to want to go through my depression alone?
you took my mental health into your own hands
intruded without my consent
you always talked about my burden upon you
which you placed on yourself
you only heard me speak and never listened
your ignorant filter blocking out my pleas
when the thin and wiry strands on your head turned grey
you blamed me, and i blamed myself

when you got into a relationship of your own
i'll admit it was hard for me to let go
but i tried
and it was unfair that my temper often turned sour
when you bragged about your healthy relationship with a bigot
but i tried
you tried to place jealousy into my anger
over him taking your time
when in reality, it was my neutrality which truly upset you

i was sixteen when i decided that
i needed to be a big girl and make my own choices;
codependency never suited me, i'm an archer at heart.
i kept a secret affair from you
not out of spite, you never crossed my mind
but simply because i wasn't ready to tell you
that was my choice.
you took that from me.
now i've always been a bad liar
it's lost its effect at this point
but as my friend i would have expected you to respect that
turn away, let sleeping dogs lie.
give me a month and i would have come to you
you took that from me.
your screaming voice still haunts me
but not as much as her teary eyes and the aftermath that followed.

guess what? i lied again
and you knew, again.
it wasn't me who had the second chance, rather you
be a good friend
i'm begging you to turn away
but, of course, you didn't.
my relationship shattered (or at least it appeared too)

my actions turned fox-like
we met, we smoked, we fell in love again.
5 or 6 times that summer at least.
i'm not sure you knew but i don't care anymore.
yes, the relationship failed
but guess what?
it ended on my own terms.
the liberation of that was inexplicable.

i still see you sometimes.
we take the same bus and its unavoidable
i still sneak around even though my need for that charade
ended a long time ago
and i suppose you still hold the world on your shoulders
no one asks you to but still you persist
we're just strangers now
and i can truly say from the deepest pits of my heart
that losing you as a friend will always be my happiest memory.

when i was younger i used to believe
that every one is good or bad
no in between
catholic upbringing, you know the drill
now as i grow i realize
the lines are a lot more blurred than when first perceived
and sometimes it's good to be bad

there are two sides to this coin.

The first side could be my pessimism,
and maybe its just my mind playing tricks on me.

The other side could be that this is reality.
That i truly am impossible to love.

it's summer and i am awake
forced to live with myself
i often think to just how simple it would be
to curve the metal across
or drape silk around my neck
winter asks no questions
just wraps its arms around and lulls me away
summer torments me
mocks me with every waking moment
spits in my eye as i'm forced to breathe
it won't leave a visible mark
i'm too old for that now
i'm a coward at heart
and that summer knows

back when we were fourteen
the heat blazing outside
and that stupid game was still popular
i'd lie on your lap
you'd rest your controller on my head
mine on my stomach
my chemical romance blasting in the background

It started with a relapse.
Nothing too bad, but a relapse nonetheless.
I regretted it the second I put down the blade,
and picked up the cloth to clean.
I kept it to my right foot, hidden by a sock.
A new, safe secret.

Then the bone broke,
fourth toe from the left.
It oozed and swelled immediately,
turning horrible shades of purple and black.
Every step I took was agony,
yet I couldn't speak up, and admit to the bone I broke-
at the cost of admitting that I'm fighting a losing battle.

when the tears overflow
shaking me to the core
hysteria, they call it
i don't realize that i am pulling my hair
until the strands are wrapped neatly around my fingers
and pulled from my face
mad woman syndrome i would have been diagnosed
if i lived in a different age
and i suppose its a fitting name
how else can i describe my world falling internally
white noise in the air
and flashes of lines clouding my vision
when i wake up and my voice has left
will i remember that i screamed

you can tell because my wrists are healed
no marred scar now.
except,
you've noticed an influx in inhalation
in regards to tar in my lungs,
as well as a freshly pinked scalp
from where the hair is white.
you've noticed i pause when near the road
or comment on architectural structure without prompt.

i am getting better because my wrist is healed
but i'm getting worse because my actions are subdued.

If I clean my room, then I
can allow myself to be
happy.
But, at the end of the day
I'm just a sad girl
sad in a very large room.

its been seven months
nearly 8
since i last physically touched you
it was a hug goodbye
because we both assumed we'd meet again

sure i slipped here and there
while you were high
or when we matched on tinder
brief words between is
but its been seven months since we touched
and im determined to make it a year

If I wanted it, it could have been perfect.
Not romantic, but fun and casual.
Just a casual hook-up, no strings attached.
I'd leave in the morning with a spring in my step,
and a smile on my face.
Or you'd wake me up with coffee, or hold me close.
And I'd feel warm, and safe.

But I didn't want it.
I didn't want your hand burning my skin, nor your
face pressed near mine.
I didn't want to see you or feel you
or know you.
Why didn't I speak up? Tell you no?

Would you have stopped?

i find it hard to love
the girl in the mirror
grotesque in every form
not from my iris
but from yours
your own child
agape spun of lies
raised out of spite
strangers by blood
words said with a smile
leaving a bitter taste

My sweet darling,
How i have watched the years praise you,
blissful for 68 turns.
It breaks my old heart to watch you wither.
Your still beautiful skin is lined and deep,
and your breath is leaving fast.
Oh, how i long to preserve you!
Alas, it is now your time,
and i must step back once, now and forever.
I can't wait to see you again.

you are the only person i feel i must apologize to,
for you were noble and kind for the duration.
I can't think of any sour words against you;
yet I salted the earth around us,
tarnished your name in our world by
speaking such ill and false tales.
I invoked such torrid guilt to stir within you,
and my only excuse could be my own twisted enjoyment.
To me you were a toy, yet to her you are the world.

i like the danger of hard boiled sweets
something so sweet and innocent
has the capability to cease my breathing
and turn me violet
i'm too old to cut myself
or cry in the teachers office when i feel blue
so i **** these sweets
and hope i choke

the harsh jab of an intrusive needle,
nor the empty space which darkness brings,
nor a giant of the sea
opening up and stealing me away.
how can i place fear in such material objects,
when my mediocrity and lonesomeness
haunts my waking moments?

exhausted, ill, and young
I trodded along to meet you.
I felt dizzy and tired, yet
still I went to meet you.
Is it because we were young?
That now I realize that sickness
and in health should not be
at my own expense.