If only sleep would
come sooner,
so I can curl up  in
bed and pretend that you
still love me.
Your breath at my neck,
my body firm against yours,
you'd whisper how pretty I am,
and I'd mumble a protest,
too tired to try and
deny it further.
But then I open my eyes and
the place beside me
is empty.
You aren't here tonight,
and you aren't coming any other.
I'm lonely without you, but
you wouldn't care;
you know that I miss you, but
you still don't care.
I pull the blankets
tighter around me,
wishing it was you I was
falling asleep with, and not
a pile of pillows.

He saw them,
two little red lines right below
her elbow.
He ran his finger over one again
and again,
making her confession
his reality.
They burned the
tip of his skin, but he
wanted to feel her
scars, so maybe
he could understand.
He wanted her to know he
felt them,
that it was okay.
But her still hid them underneath
her sleeve,
like crimson tattoos gotten on
a drunken night.

a child's first memory ,
light falling through crib bars ;
recollected scents ,
the rain and city streets ;
pain of unforgotten loss ,
sting of remembered humiliation ;
cruel forgetfulness of old age ,
whilst ancient memories stand out within ,
agonizingly clear precision ;
yet nearest of incidents ,
are lost beyond recall .

You call me beautiful,
but the only beauty you see is
the dip of a neckline,
the shade of a lipstick,
the length of a skirt.
Please, tell me I'm not
skinny enough, my hips are
too wide;
go on about how my hair needs
to be longer and my waist smaller,
my heels higher and my voice softer.
Say my skin isn't clear enough, my nails
are too short.
I am a material thing,
dressed up
like a doll, a Barbie.
I am not a woman, but
your plaything.
You want me to talk less and listen more,
when all I want to do is scream.

I'm scared.
        Of the next time I
                     worry,
        of the urges that come
                     after.
I now fear the
             blade
more than the
            blood,
more than the monsters inside
                     my head.
        The screams become
                    louder,
        the tears run
                    harder,
everything blows into
                   oblivion.
           You look in the mirror,
           see the fear reflected
           in the edge of your
              pupils,
           dancing in the ring
               of your iris.
           The real fear is
             of yourself,
           blade in your hand,
           blood on your arms.

I take one step forward, only
to take two steps back,
looking over my shoulder,
afraid to leave you behind.
But he's right there, so close that if
I reach out a hand, I can graze
his white cheek with my fingertips.
But there you are, right behind me,
your arms open wide like you'll
actually catch me if I fall back.
I'm stuck in between now and
a memory, not sure where my heart
is, only sure of the throb of the
questions it holds in its chambers.
Why can't I forget your blue eyes that
bore into mine,
and replace them with the thought of his,
big and brown and innocent?
How can I take his heart in my hands
when they easily crushed yours and left
both of us bleeding?

Another night to spend alone
No-one’s arms to call my home
Snow falling upon cedars
Silencing the land

Move on, get over it
Though I cannot forget
But passion’s still coursing
Through my veins

All I want is to be somebody
You love, suddenly
From head to toe
I forgive you

Because I know that its true
When you say ‘I love you’
Somewhere I know
We’ll get through

So I watch these snow stars
Cover all the ugly scars
Deep on the Earth’s skin
Cover me softly

Deep into a winter’s slumber
No more thoughts to take me under
Something old and something new
New found love; for you