I'm lying here, yet again
Wide awake, at 6am.

This is our little ritual,
Our native dance -  

Oh, the change that has come to our ritual -
While you fumbled for missing words from forgotten conversations

I listen to the light snores of our husband to be -
And as I smile with my 6am waking,
I know that you are somewhere in the past aching -

Last night it was him that I was kissing,
It was his tongue pressed to the back of my teeth,
And his hands on the small of back,
Pulling me closer -

As the wind wept around us,
And as his hand slipped into mine -
I realised, that it was him, that I was kissing in the shadows.

And as I pulled away, slipping back into the light -
You stood there watching, waiting, with a sullen sadness on your face.

And after all this time, that is when you chose to tell me,
That you loved me -

your words
your thoughts
even your lies -

Never have I seen your face -
when I look at you
I only catch glimpses of your soul

and when my fingers brush off your skin
It's your soul, that I feel.

Swipe left, swipe right
Swipe left again.
The familiar heart shape of a match pings a new life into the shimmering screen.

As I press letters into my keypad,
Forming words that my friends and I have constructed
As if the words on the buzzing screen
Were a fine art only we had mastered.

And that was how our story began
Swipes, typing, buzz.
Laughter and scrutiny from my friends and I to your reply.
Adds, follows, likes...

Then the little read icon
Had been left idle and blue for days,
No double text, or vaguely targeted picture could tempt him.

Then back again,
Swipe left, swipe right...
Followed by more typing and blue ticks.

today is your fifth birthday -
only nobody in the world knows this but me.

the 20th of November -
the death of all your unlived dreams.

happy birthday my little one,
may you rest in peace.

If it doesn't
              set your soul on fire -

Don't do it.

I'm not the kind of person you fall in love with -

I'm always the option,
Never the choice.

You're eyes sparkle like the ocean,
They are as vast and blue too -

I wish I could swim in your eyes,
Forever looking at you.

Might as well be a precious treasure
Long lost to the sea -

When I write,
Putting that pen to paper -
Even if to merely create ink smudges
Where the thoughts die young -

I can feel each piece of me,
The ones I know are there,
And the ones I've buried so deep down
Even I forgot-
Swirl around my soul,
And gather in that pen -

So the words and patters and nothingness on that page
Are my everything,
My words, well, they're me.

Tears ***** my eyes
The hurt, I try to blink away
A flutter of open and close -
Once, twice, no three!

My jaw is tightly locked
As I fuse my teeth together
Counting each breath,
Out and in, out and in -

Over emphasising the sternness of my jawline
In a hope to distract from the pain
That is laced through my eyes

My love, my dearest other
Who is supposedly at home sick

Sits at the table across from me,
With another -

we were tangle-lost
and falling deeply -
as my skin brushed yours
the beating of our heart stilled -
joined -
and beat again.


There was looks in your eyes
that only I knew,
as we danced
under the lampshade of an old oak tree
I'd have given anything for thee.

now I sit alone
just me,
and some distant memories

we talk, and laugh and talk some more
the minutes melting into hours
until it's time to get up
and we haven't even slept yet -

talking to you
is my favourite thing to do,
how you make the world
seem a different, better place

but I want more -
humanities greed has started to kick in -


I want to taste you
I want to see into your soul,
and show you mine

I want to feel
what magic lies behind
your skin touching mine

I want to grab your hand
and tell the world that you are mine

I held her breath within my hand
so soft - so sweet
so delicate!

that baby breath -
half in, half out
but breathing still

it twitched around my fingers
a nervous dance -
but dancing still

I reciprocated
with a kiss of life -
but dying still -

Which is worse?

to feel everything so deeply
every sideways glance
and cold shoulder
feeling like a dagger
grating against my chest

for every glass
that falls and smashes
shattering to dust-like pieces
to feel like the shattering
of my pathetic life

to keep on feeling
that tightness in my chest
knowing you are barely breathing,
and there's no real reason.

to feel the pinpricks on my skin
which feel more like
lacerations to your sole,
to the very core of your being -

Or take the pills that the doctor keeps prescribing
and feel nothing,
not even the death inside?

When they stripped me of my dignity
lashing me -
for all of our community to see

My body a damaged cage
wrinkled in the square
pathetic and quivering.

My smile was clawed from my face
by savages
who did not believe in 'happy'.

They beat me 'til I was broken
bent out of shape,
had I been a contortionist it would have been painless
but oh! it was pain I felt as every inch of me
was broken and shattered - snapped like a twig.

Yet no mark could the human eye see
I was just a girl
lying in the rain, whose touch burned like acid.

My clothes did not resemble the tatters I felt them to be,
my hair was brushed and not the state they had yanked it into,
not an inch of makeup was smudged across my face.

Funny the effect a few words can take.

We met,
And then you chased me
Until you could call me yours.

You loved me!
And I loved you,
until you were the stars in my eyes.

And then I loved you,
As you grew bored -

I loved you,
As you left.

You broke me,
And yet, I love you still.

I find my dreams
      are slipping away
            from their usual crazy trance
                    

now my dreams are bittersweet
         echoing a wish so secret -
                  I dream for you, not me.

he left my tongue twisted
     around the words I wanted to say
i felt my heart beating - no humming -
      as if it would fly away from my rib cage

had it not been tangled amongst the vines -
       that delicate web of doubt,
that tangled its way around my chest
        caused from past lovers, and that kind of distress.

with a humming heart -
        and shaking knees!
i was playing the role of the love-struck fool
         nothing to say, but a Cheshire-cat grin on my face -

imagine if you loved yourself
                as much as you loved your friends

after so many years
it is still to you I turn -
you have called me friend
through thick and thin


on hearing of a movie,
you know I'd love,
you call me straight away
and choose to be my date.


if things get rough
and I'm in a state
of emergency
your the one who's around to pick me up.


when a friend is needed
if "he's" been cruel,
once again,
it is you I'll always call -

you'll have wise words to say
to mend my aching heart,
adding crows feet to my face
from making me laugh.


all those years ago when it was you
I chose to love,
another girl had captured your heart.

I'm grateful of that decision
you made for us,
as you have grown to be my closest friend,
each others to who we'll always turn,
thus developing a life-long kind of love -

Dear lonely girl,

why is it that you choose to cry
about once again not having a valentine?

why does a stupid date
fueled by cheap chocolate
and ****** cards
make your very core ache?

you don't even really like flowers,
why receive a gift of something
that's overpriced and already dead?

having a valentine
would just be another broken half,
of a stalemate love.

you don't need no Romeo,
you'll both only end up dead.

it's just another day lonely girl,
another day for you to be happy
that once again, you get to live.

Love, Me
(lonely girl)

you used the word we today
when referring to you and me.
it was said in passing
with little thought behind it.

yet the way you used it,
created an 'us',
so to tackle my problem,

that gave me chance to hope,
to want to intertwine my fingers
with your fingers,
and after that, just see what happens.

will you sing to me when i am dead
when i can no longer feel raindrops
falling upon my head.

will you play me the cello
as you sit beside my grave,
dying shrubbery, and my life encased.

a closed casket to entrap,
encase, enclose my foolish soul
my ramblings gone stale and old -

will you sing to me when i am dead
like you used to,
when i were a child
ever young and foolish too -

your body is a corpse
                           every part of it is changeable
your face is just a face
                           the lines etched into it are nothing more
than faded memories
                           the marks of rotting dreams

do not let the limitations of your flesh
                            define your legacy
the ink-spills spiraled on your skin
                            do not limit your potentials
but inspire you as an artist
                            the colour-pop in fading black
is singing the songs of your soul
                             seeping through the barriers
decorating the canvas of your corpse

                              those ink-spots are just as much you
as the eyes that beseech me
                               your body is a corpse love
screaming for you to decorate it
                                *decorate me

Jesus is in my heart,
Jesus is in my lungs,
with each inhaling breath,
and every time I exhale

as my mind whirls about,
brain-rats spinning on their wheel,
I think of Him alone,


and so shall peace come,
as I remain still.

sometimes when left alone
and lost in thought
I catch myself wondering
if anyone will ever love me,
in a way that they'll just want to talk about
what's going on in mind -
where my darkest wildest thoughts
can be freed-

and furthermore, will they love that part of me?

I hope that you remember me,
but how would you remember me?

Would you remember my smile
that you could tell more from my eyes,
than from my lips?

Would you remember my laugh
that no one could ever mistake it
for anyone but me?

Would you remember my scent
how it wavered on the pillowcase
long after I had left?

Would you remember how we first met?
The accidental bumping into a stranger
who shared you life philosophy,
which we discovered over accidental-coffee?

Would you remember the fights
how we would stay up all night
at the other side of the room,
listening to the other breathe?

Would you remember how we would make up
searching our eyes for the truth,
for the pain and the sorrow?

Would you remember how much I loved you
how I would hold you so close
when I was afraid, happy or did not want to be alone?

Would you remember the life we built together,
the apartment that you still live in
cluttered with all our 'must-haves' and trinkets of nothing?


Or would all these be clouded by the end?
Would you remember me than nothing more
than a frightened ghost of girl,
lost to a dark, dark sickness?

Pen to paper,
words on a page -
ink smudges
with wisdom I wish I could say.

Life is short
when days are numbered
but my thoughts
when scripted to paper
can immortalise my thoughts -
immortalising my soul

An immortal soul,
means immortal life!
Is it only my body then
that is faced with ending this form of life* -

Pen to paper
Words on a page.

Ink smudges
Wisdom for days -

Life is short
When days are numbered

But my thoughts I wonder...

They immortilise my soul
An immortal soul
Meaning immortal life -

It is merely the body that scripts the words
But the soul that writes!

Only the body faces mortality,
Ending merely this form of life.

I wonder if you know
how deeply I could love you,
if  you would just let me.


Or is it that you already know
and this is why you choose to leave me in this love-limbo?

I always have at least one of my writings
scripted and hanging in my room.


They may not be obvious
but they are there somewhere
among all the stuff
because if I don't love it,
why should anybody else?

lonely is an artist
when he crafts his work,
lonely is an artist
when they need a muse,
lonely is an artist
when she basks in misery,
lonely is an artist
when lost in ones tragedy,
lonely is an artist
among their greatest work,
lonely is an artist
in their happiness,
lonely is an artist
when they craft their best.

falling in love, is like aligning with stupidity -
trying to save you, to save us
in the name of love
is like passing your hands through the flames of the fire
someone's going to get burned,
and that someone is always me.