I want to write
As though I know the perfect
Words to say
But in all honesty
I'm not cut out for this

I feel like I should be a
young
productive
smart
full-of-life girl

but I feel like a
tired
dying
lifeless girl

The cocoon of heat
That I have buried myself into
Wont allow my body
To tear itself away

Bed, I love you

When I write
I feel my mind
Slowly melt into the paper
Like ink from the soul

Sheepishly blinking
Trembling hands at the ready
Skin flushing deep pink

Hands gently exploring skin
As their pure bodies entwine

I prefer being lonely
It means that nobody can pick on me
Or at least, say hurtful things
Within my hearing distance

Wooly layers
Pumpkin spiced
Crunchy leaves
Darker nights
Browns, oranges and deep reds

Autumn is here

I remember sitting down on the bus
As it pulls out to leave the stop
You wave at me through the window
With a misty look in your eyes
As though you regret this, us
I tuck my hair behind my ear sheepishly
Lips still tasting of your sweet lust
I can still remember how you softly yet firmly pushed yours onto mine
My neck, burning at the red marks
That you placed there as a sign of dominance over me
I was always yours
But you was never mine

They were small, not what I expected from a soul like you
They were bruised and scarred in unusual places
This intrigued me, I thought could tell a lot about you already
I traced with mine around the folds and lines of yours

But yours soon got too big for you
Although small in size, they grew with force
I no longer wanted to trace them, touch them or see them
I wanted to push them away from me
Like a hot iron being pressed against cold flesh

You enjoyed it, I could tell from the grip you had behind them
Squeezing out every ounce of fear I had in me
I panicked, trying to use mine in a feeble battle against you
You won, and with that, I realised how yours were so different

I thought we would become that old couple
That we walked past on the pier
Sharing an ice-cream, the way she looked at him
As though she was still 18
But things change
Time, emotions, love, feelings, thoughts and actions
They all do too
And I suppose that you was right
When you said that we would never grow old