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Cigarette butts scattered on
the floor and a stale scent of
guilty secrecy follows you as
you slip on last night’s clothes
quietly enough not to wake
him still nestled in a slumber
of *** and smoky shadows.

You wash your face with icy
water in the bathroom sink
and try your **** best not
to think about what was in
that vile overpriced drink.
it was his laugh that lured
you because it gave off the
vibe that he knew exactly
how to survive these lonely
long weekends and maybe
he could be your only friend?

And so the liquor last night
warmed up your heart and
throat which caused you to
feel sickly like you were in
an unstable rocky boat that
only he could bring to shore
and you knew from his grin,
that soon you’d be on the
sweaty dance floor because
boys like him want girls like
you to smile sweetly and sin.

When he asked you to come
back to his for a drink it was
clearly implied that he was
the kind of man who lied but
the ***** made you tongue
tied so you said yes to letting
him call a taxi and put his arm
around you like he wouldn't let
any kind of harm come to you.

But back at his sweaty stale
place your heart began to race
because you are not this kind of
girl who lets strangers take them
home and unsanitary hands roam.
Every word he said made you feel
like you were dead and holding on
to reality with a thin thread but he
was holding the scissors so you
were not in charge and now the
****** is still very much at large.

You gather up the contents of your
handbag  from the floor but jittery
thoughts are still scattered through
stained sheets and between the
soles of your ***** sweaty shoes.
Tears run down your face as you
take one last look around the room
to drink it all in just in case your
head starts to swim and spin again
and remind you of this chaotic pain.

You will shut the front door softly
so that he does not wake and cry
whilst biting your lip as you walk up the road with the odd sensation of
carrying a load on your shoulders
that makes you feel hundreds of
years older but not one inch bolder.

This is the denial of ******* and
knowing that somewhere there is a
tape which could change your fate
if he ever knew your full name and
wanted to play an evil sick game.
But it is not letting him have power
and control like he did that night
because you will put up a fight!

It is you going to the police station
and filing a report despite what
your friends thought and it is
making a statement in court to his
cowering face whilst he cries into
his sleeve and refusing to leave
until he looks you in the eye and
says your name because he never
once said it that night and you
refuse to be just another statistic.

It is helping yourself along with the
other women around you so that
you feel safe and not believe this
world is a completely broken place.
It is holding onto hope and giving
your sisters the strength to speak
up to say what happened wasn't
right and we will fight to be heard!

It is letting the caged bird fly free
and skinny dipping in the icy sea.
It is the moment of freedom you taste
on your tongue as you name
him in the court room and hear him
pronounced guilty but you are free.
Fall for me
and I promise
that I'll imprint
my poetry on
you for ever.
Inky smudges
trailing down
your back and
running over
your broad shoulders.
my darling has
his keys in the car
and a hand on
my hip making
sure i don't slip.
cigarette in his
lips with the radio
down low as he
drives slow.
he asks me
where do i want
to go?
the streetlights
Illuminate his skin
and i squeeze his
hand tight as we
search out some
thing marvellous
and magical from
amongst a cold
winter night.
you have a
delightful diesel
infused smile.
where have you
been honey?
it's been awhile.
you have dust in your veins
and a tattoo of a black flame
with your mother's name to
the left of it in messy scrawl.
there are ***** sheets in the
bedroom with your old blue
jeans on top of them as you
forgot them when you saw
that I wasn't the dream you
had once wanted so badly.
syringes and tears are strewn
chaotically around the room
and my body is littered with
the last marks you left from
a belt and a bad word or two
from when you thought I was
making a mockery out of you.
welts and bruises tell the story
of how you had assured me I
was a loser and you were just
doing what the next guy would
do so it was only fair to laugh
as I had screamed out of fear.
you were the ultimate betrayal
when you pinned me down in
the bath and held my head so I
could not breathe and said you
would make sure I was dead if
I ever tried to leave again on a
midnight train in summer rain.
it was a world away from who
you'd been when we first met
because soon the back of my
head was wet with blood and
I would always hear the thud
of your work boots that filled
my heart and soul with dread.
inducing panic and distress
was your ******* and so I got
the blame when the beers ran
out and there wasn't any money
until next week to buy you drink.
this was the world I lived in now,
a sick desperate shell of how I
should be except I am not free.
so another day will pass and I
will refill your beer glass as you
leer at me with yellow teeth for
my grief is what ignites the thief
of joy in your bones and makes
my body your undesired home.
Shut your eyes and go
to sleep listening to the
gnarled willows weep.
Kisses on the forehead
goodnight to ensure you
are tucked in just right.
I will sing you a gentle
lullaby as the birds fly
off into the jet black sky.
The moon is laying low
for you to use as a night
light in case you are to
get a nightmare and feel
a distressing kind of fear.
But do not be scared of
what lurks and loiters in
the shadows of your soul
for I will hold your hand
and tame those demons
to a dominant demand.
The hold they have had
for quite some time is
now reaching the end
of its disintegrated line.
I can see your cold smile
defrosting in the sun now
as the willows shake off
the winter snow and you
capture some of the new
season’s glow inside of
your wholesome soul.
So my beloved friend,
shut your eyes and sleep
listening to the willows
weep as now this peace
is finally yours to keep!
you're wearing
bright red lipstick
and a little black
dress but you
are a mess and you
can't even give the
taxi the right address.
You smell of cinnamon
and sugar mixed with
marijuana and when
you laugh I can see
the fillings in the
back of your mouth
and I resist the urge
to touch your cheek
and feel the curves
of your body beneath
your clothes.
I can taste smoke
at the back of
your throat
and I remember the
way you once wrote.
I think maybe
I'll love you
until this *******
has left my veins.
What was your
name again?
Waking up with sweat
stained sheets wrapped
around me and you are
nowhere to be seen as
you believe being mean
is keeping the lads keen.
Your leather jacket is
still here hanging on the
hook by the front door
and he wonders why
she didn’t want more.
He loved her laugh last
night as they drunkenly
tried to walk right home
after finishing a few gin
and tonics between them
that made his head spin
and her think that she
would forever win at sin.
Her long blonde hair
had flown out behind her
and it reminded him of
fresh sunflowers because
that was the colour of her
beauty and he prayed the
rest of the night would not
be another careless blur.
The radiance within her
shone so bright that he
didn’t even turn on the
kitchen light as he let
them both inside as the
liquor made their shyness
want to shrivel up and hide.
But in the next morning,
there was no hungover girl
mumbling sleepily and
yawning because instead
there was only her leather
jacket and the faint smell
of sweet perfume left on
his pillow as he tried to
visualize that beautifully
bright sunny yellow that
made his throat dry and
gave him a sickening urge
to cry because he didn’t
want this feeling to die.
He wondered if she would
call because it really hadn’t
taken him long to fall for her
long limbs and the way she
had dark humour that stung
him like a cheap rumour and
so he slept on the sofa that
day with the aching bones
of a man who lives alone
but with a leather jacket
wrapped around his arm
because he wanted to see
her again and see if she
maybe felt the same but
he knew deep down it
was a Friday night love
and the weekend would
soon fade away because
she was never destined to
stay yet he hung her jacket
in the closet for years to
come and tried again to
find the perfect one but
he’d let her slip between
his fingers yet the smell
of her sweet perfume still
lingered for Friday nights
to come and he missed the
colour of the sun that shone
in her hair and the bright
eyes that that craved fear.
She’d been his Friday night
coffee and cream that would
never return no matter how
much he stroked the seams
of her faded leather jacket.
Sunflower girl was now
gone with the wind and
soon he could no longer
recall her voice and the
paleness of her soft skin.
It was like she had never
met him in the first place
but oh god how he loved
her beautiful hair and knew
she had once been there in
his arms even if it had only
been for one Friday night.
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