No, you're wrong.

Everyone is as beautiful
as they can possibly be

Particularly at lunch
in a laughing restaurant

Everyone is as beautiful
as they can possibly be

And they are moved
by their own beauty

And they shed tears for it
in the back of the taxi home

MrRight or maybe now or later
Dear Mr.Right,

I think I understand now.

And I get it .

We sit waiting.
Seconds.minutes.hours. days.
For the someone in our life to complete us,

to wrap our wounds and mend our hearts.
To laugh at the jokes  we tell even when they aren’t funny. no especially when they aren’t funny.

To challenge us and to make us forget, but allow us the space to remember.

To know when we want to be held,

but don’t know how to ask,

a mate,

a lover,

a friend.

And we wait.

Believing and hoping they will come and rescues us from the tower,

to fight off the demons and the dragons of the mundane day to day life.

And to win our hand, for rescuing us.

And we sit and wait as we expect them to tear down the walls of our imprisonment whether mental or concrete,

as we become less,

we become dormant,

when we have been given the same tools and opportunities to tie up the bed sheets or cascade our hair down, to escape,

to be free, wasting away in the waiting

I want to warn you

I am not sitting on my bed waiting,

do not look for me in the kitchen making the pies to appease your hunger,

I am out collecting treasures,

and having adventures,

and making memories

with hook and finding my way with pirates,

and traipsing with sinners while believing in saints,

you wont find me with apple scented skin but maybe lemons,

or grass,

or the sea salt ocean

or dandelions,

because I am lying in the meadow looking up at the stars breathing in cold air,

and thinking of you

but you will not find me waiting for the world to be put back on its axis or ask atlas to put down his burden,

im not running away, but Im not waiting in a tower held high above life.

Ill be among the disciples and the hipsters, brushing off the mud of my jeans and rolling down hills with children,

kissing boo boos  and fighting my own demons.

And one day we’ll meet and I ll ask you where were you when I was waiting and maybe you will say looking for you. or maybe you’ll say I was waiting for you. And we’ll be happy to find each other.

I will not let life pass me by while i am waiting, but Ill put pieces of me in all my letters left to tell you of my adventures,

If you thought Id be less pirate more princess I’m sorry to say maybe it’s better this way. I am not dormantly waiting,I want too much for that, I  want to know me before I find you. I want to be single and appreciate the entire bed and not having to share, to look in the mirror and to know my own worth and beauty, and maybe these things will come later in life before or while you are around. I know not your name or the hour in which we’ll meet but tonight I’m thinking of you. Catch me of you can.

in the next ten seconds,
he opens his mouth to speak to an acquaintance in a room full of acquaintances
an ugly metal faucet that has been dripping for fifteen days drips again in an upstairs sink
he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she bites at her fingernails and
            looks at the magazines lined up in the supermarket
before she opens the postbox, she inhales
she throws her head back before laughing at his anecdote, her knees feeling the ache
            of being crossed for too long
with slightly tremulous fingers, she touches she sleeve of her coat without reason, feeling
            like everyone on the underground train may be looking at her
he takes a sip of water and screws the lid back on, checking his watch
a hiccup is heard from the back of a classrm
he kisses her for the first time on the mouth
he notices his hair has fallen out and sits in the shower drain
their elbows graze against one another's in the lecture hall but neither of them
             catch the other's eye, both staring straight ahead
she blots her lips over a folded tissue to remove pink residue and looks herself in the eye
             in the mirror
her father lets go f her shoulders as she wobbles on the bicycle without its stabilisers
             for a second attempt today
he notices a stain of yogurt on his tie and curses quietly
she burns her fingers whilst making toast
she argues with the cashier about the fact that selected juices were marked as being on offer
the rain rattles against the window and he is uneasy with the lack of rhythm in its sound
they put on her favourite song and remember her as she was when she was still alive
someone wipes salt from her cheeks with a tissue
he realises that the tooth fairy doesn't exist and doesn't mind because it means he's grown up
she asks her father if she is pretty and he say anything
she slips a packet of biscuits into the supermarket trolley, her mother sees
             and doesn't say anything
an elderly woman cradles his arm as they slowly cross the street
they look at one another and both know
he says I'm so sorry
she says I'm so sorry
he says I love you
she says you know I do.

We both know it's over,
Though we haven't spoken a word.

And I hear your sleeve rustle
As you run your fingers through your golden hair,
Nervously. Impatiently.
You don't want to be here.

Our eyes meet;
They match the coffee sitting on my bedside from this morning.
Cold.
Bitter.
Unfinished.

My hands rest in my lap, clasped together;
As if to pray to some obscure divinity
That can't hear me.
Gaze fixed on chipped, red nails,
Trying not to bite my tongue.

You knew it was wrong;
You knew it would come to this.
You knew all along.

Didn't you?

Jaw clenched,
You stare out a window,
Plotting your escape.

I try to remember the good times,
But they all seem so out of context now.
Your smile seems so crooked now,
Your eyes seem cold and distant now.

Your charm,
But free deceit disguised as cheap love,
A poor alibi for worse decisions.

You don't love,
You lust.

Because that's all you've ever known in this world,
That's all you ever learned from your sick father figures:
I want.
I need.
I have.

Human connection,
A waste of time.
Love and affection,
No worth to speak of.

So, tell me.
Was she worth it?

"I love her," You say quietly.

"I know," I reply.

they asked me what i am grateful for.
i think of you.
and that smile.
and those eyes.
and that voice...
a person could drown in all of those
simple features that
make you you.

i am so thankful for you.
for you being alive.
for you being here, with me.
for you being the one who
saved me from myself.

thank you.
keep safe over the holidays and
have a wonderful thanksgiving
without me, dear.

ive never been enough
even in my mind,
i fight to win the rival that
never ends.
the only things that bring me comfort
are Doctor Who and Lord of the Rings,
mhm... yes i miss you and that smile
of yours dear god, it is like heaven.
but, you see, ill never be enough
ive always known that.
neither the doctor nor the hobbit will
come to save me.

i hate being so dispensable
i feel so bad for my friends and my family,
they have to deal with me all the time
but i guess when im gone
everybody will grab a glass of wine.

cheers, shes finally dead.
(i say this all the time in my head!)

oh dear, dont be sad,
be glad,
shes dead and the
demons are gone from her
blasted head.

(can i make the same end-rhyme twice?)

There are so many
Loop holes
To your love
It's hard to determine
What it's made of
Can't tell if it's
For real
Sometimes I think
You try to conceal
What we have
Or maybe just me
All I know is
Without it
I can't breathe
I wish I could look
Inside your heart
But I can't
I only hope
That this is not
A game
You're real to me
I cherish you
Don't stray from me
Can't lose you
Again...