The day you went away
was the day my world stopped turning.
We both always knew this would be temporary but Three Hundred and Twenty Seven days of you was never going to be enough.

The flowers here wilted
and shrivelled away when you left.
They only ever blossomed for you.

The grass dried up
and the leaves fell down.
Dusty tracks now where once lay roads.

The birds flew South
but not just for the winter.
To be with you.

This place,
our place,
the town that brought us together
is tainted now.
It can offer me no more.

Come home.

You looked the same,
and yet nothing like I remembered.
Your eyes, sharp and soft all at once,
pulled me back to every place we had been,
and every place we never went.
The laughter we shared,
the fights that cracked us,
And the dreams we were too afraid to dream.

Every fight.
Every night.
Every tear cried on my doorstep or yours.
Every other girl who caught your eye.
Every time you said you’d changed.
Then every time you became complacent again.
Your nose.
Your hair.
Your stare.
Your too-tight jeans.
Your perfect teeth.
And your laugh which could make or break me.
Your jealousy.
My jealousy.
My desperation.
My fear.
When you called me a woman.
And when you made me feel like one.
When you moved away.
When you came back for me.
Feeling safe for the first time.
Feeling safe for the last time.
Feeling love, for once reciprocated.
Feeling alone together.
Our first hello.
Our last goodbye.
And every ‘I love you’ in between.
These memories I keep.
I nurture them.
I examine them through new lenses,
And also through the same old ones as before.
To keep us alive.
To honour what once was.

They wait all year
To hear that bell ring
And now it's July
They don't worry about a thing.

Sandy toes
And salty kisses.
Too good to be true
It's almost fictitious.

Parents ask them
Not to throw it all away
But they're young, they're kids,
And they just want to play.

That lad with the freckles
Wants an August romance
And now there's no school
He might just have the chance.

That girl with the ribbons
Can finally stay out late
And maybe one night
She might just get a date.

They embrace every day.
They congregate at the beach,
Enjoying not learning from
A teacher who can't teach.

But Summer won't last forever.
In fact, September is near.
No more under-age drinking
Upon the old pier.

They know they'll grow old
And their hair will go grey
Which is why they insist
On seizing each day.

If this was a play,
This is when they would bow,
Knowing they'll never be as young
As they are right now.

We meet and my heart remembers,
though time has tried to forget.
Your voice, a melody aching,
a song that’s not over yet.

Each time we part, the wound reopens,
a pain both bitter and sweet.
But I'd choose the ache of you leaving,
over knowing we’ll never meet.

For how could I bear the silence,
the weight of a final goodbye?
I’d rather the fleeting embers
than an unlit, starless sky.

So come, even if it’s to vanish,
to break me and scatter my soul.
I’ll gather the pieces each time you leave,
for the hope of one day being whole.

Let me lose you a thousand times,
if it means I can hold you once more.
Your love is the hurt I choose to endure,
a wound I’ll forever adore.

I remember that night as clearly as the stars did shine for us. Who'd have known that a secret touch and a stolen kiss would lead to such beautiful agony?

It's somewhat funny
But it's also somewhat sad.

I can be surrounded by dozens of people, family, friends...
Yet feel so alone.
So empty.

Or I can be with you.
Only you.
And my world is complete.

My 2am drunk phone call.
Underage ***** in a park.
'Don't tell mum' I plead you
'That I stayed out after dark'.

My shoes in your hand
And your shoes on my feet.
You tell me I'm not broken,
You make me feel complete.

I can't express the sense of pride
I feel to share your genes.
You'll never know my love for you
Or just how much you mean.

Today I cried because my arms are fat
And my eyes aren't pretty unless lined like a cat

I don't want to be the mousy brunette
Of average height and intellect

I want to be that edgy girl who rocks vintage clothes
And collects records, and reads, and looks like Bridget Bardot

Not good enough for you, but how can I forget
When my mind constantly replays the moment we met?

I heard you’ve taken up honesty
like it’s a new hobby.
Quaint, like gardening or oil painting.
How bold, to dabble in virtue
only when the stakes are gone.

You’ll keep polishing that glass house,
convincing yourself it gleams with clarity,
never noticing the cracks spiderwebbing beneath.
One day, when it all comes crashing down,
you’ll call it a masterpiece
and swear the rubble was art.

Twilight.
Late at night.
Beautiful sight.

She blinks.
Heels in her hand, mascara flakes onto her rosey cheeks.
Swaying,
Secretly praying,
Silently in her mind.
Even more silently in her heart.
Who knows what of?
Who cares?

She thinks.
These are the best days of her life.
At least that's what they told her.
Eighteen,
Singing Springsteen,
Loudly in the streets.
Drunk and disorderly,
Who knows who she'll meet?
And who cares?

I could swear my heart is bleeding, so why is my pen run dry?
I could swear my eyes are streaming, so why won't my pen cry?

What's the point
In wasting time and wasting ink
When I can't verbalise the thoughts I think?

That night with you,
I learned the secret of it all.
The secret of love and how to fall.

In case you wonder
How you ever will know,
Spend time in silence and love should grow.

For we shared a glance,
A glance that pitifully pleaded.
And with that we knew that no words were needed.

I don't know
what made me
think I could
replace you.
Neither am I sure
why I thought
it would be a
good idea to try.
Haunted by
the memory
of how I would
embrace you.
And regretting
every second
of the day we
said goodbye.

I see you now, a pillar of grace,
Striding strong in a brighter place.
The shadows I fought to help you leave,
Are gone, yet I’m the one who grieves.

Through nights of storms and silent wars,
I patched your sails, I braved your shores.
You were adrift, and I gave my tide,
Only to watch you now, in another's stride.

Your laughter rings with a golden hue,
A sound I longed to make come true.
But the echoes of my whispered care,
Are lost in the life you now declare.

I tilled the soil, I sowed the seed,
Nurtured your roots in your time of need.
Now you bloom, a garden free—
But not a petal turns toward me.

Is it selfish to feel this ache,
For the joy I wanted to partake?
I wished you well, I swear I did,
Yet envy lurks where love once hid.

Perhaps the groundwork was never mine,
Just borrowed hands for a fleeting time.
Still, I wonder if you ever see,
The pieces of me that set you free.

I lay in your bed.
I shouldn't have been there.
But still I lay in your bed,
And I found a hair.
Too long to be yours.
Too blonde to be mine.
I'm no longer yours,
But I still wish you were mine.

Why can't I write when I'm not feeling sad?
My pen only cries when my heart is bleeding.
It's not like happy souls don't have a thing to say,
But it was ink that got me through those lonely, rainy days.

Why can't I write when I'm wearing a smile?
I can only do it with a tear upon my cheek.
It's not like broken souls have any more to say,
But it was ink that got me through those lonely, rainy days.

It's not like I'm not trying when I'm not crying.
It's not like I would rather be in pain.
It's just that I would like to write you something,
To thank you for those dreamy summer days.

My brain must hate me.
What reason, other than that, to explain why I'm constantly tortured by the mental image of him. And her.
Him and her.
Him with her.

My muse.
The fuse
to the fire in my heart-
A most eternal flame.

Every moment we had shared
And every moment we had not
Hit me like a train
As your eyes met mine again.

Taller, slimmer, happier than I recalled.
A stranger from a recurring dream.

A funny thing
To see you again.

A terrible thing
To lose you again.

How bitter sweet to be entwined for one last time.
And for one last dance to the song of our united breath.
How bitter sweet to be given one last chance to shine.
Who'd have known a goodbye could be so welcoming?

I have a burning need to be adored
To hide the fact I'm insecure.
The guys I date all soon get bored
While deeper in love I seem to fall.

Crazy am I driven by the idea,
the possibility,
of another's kiss on your collarbone.
I recall St Valentine's Day,
when your **** Jagger lips told me
'I'm yours'
with such sincerity
and that I could hold you to it.
And I will.

Does she listen to your stories and then pretend to care?
Do you make that moaning sound when she plays with your hair?

Does she hang out with your friends and has she met your dad?
Does she hold you oh so tightly whenever you get sad?

Does she let you keep her awake with your snoring?
Does she know how you like your tea?
And that it's coffee in the morning?
And which mug you like it in?

Does she know you listen to Green Day when you brush your teeth?
Does she know you like your teeth?
And that you hate the rest of you?

Does she notice the scars on your arms?
And then does she wrap you in her's?
And does it feel the same?

You turned my nights into a tapestry of stars.
I’ve been searching the sky for that same constellation ever since.

I prefer the way you feel between my thighs than inside my head.

Did you ever hear the tale of the loneliest cigarette?
Bringing short term pleasure to just one man, while simultaneously burning herself away into oblivion, she is selfless.
He'll soon kick her to the kerb and stamp out her embers which she offered to him because it's what she thought he wanted.
When she is gone, he will take another.
*And she will be useless. Lifeless. Unwanted. Replaceable.

Scary yet essential.
I have forgotten how to do it.

It starts as a whisper, soft in my chest,
A thought unbidden, unkindly guest.
The urge to reach, to bridge the divide,
Where silence now stretches, too wide, too wide.

I pace the floor; I cradle my phone,
In this quiet war, I’m never alone.
Your name, like a needle, ****** at my brain,
Rewinding the reel of our joy and our pain.

Each old message, a relic, a hit,
I scroll through the past, scratching the itch.
The words are hollow, their warmth has fled,
But I cling to their ghosts like they're still being said.

My heart races faster, my reason grows dim,
This craving feels cruel, a fight I can’t win.
To press "send" would be bliss, a fleeting reprieve,
But I fight the withdrawal, cry tears on my sleeve.

So I silence the urge, let the moment decay,
And watch as the craving slowly fades away.
The answer’s not hidden in words I once knew,
But in learning to live without reaching for you.

Cuddled in my lap and then you say you need your space.
You tell me you're depressed yet there's a smile upon your face.

You push me away and then you tell me that you need me.
You tell me that you're worthless but that isn't the way I see.

Cigarettes, drugs, alcohol. You try your best to get clean.
You say you want a better life and then you question what it all means.

I wish there was a way that I could make you understand
The purpose of it all is how it feels to hold your hand.

Day two
Without you.
A million miles apart
But under the same stars.
I am sleeping alone in this river I've cried.
The nights are so long when you're empty inside.
Are you thinking of me?

I'd give you my last ciggy
Without shadow of a doubt
Because hearing you sing Ziggy
Is what love is all about