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 always said you loved me too.
Now I'm 4000 miles away from you.
Broken by all the things you do,
My tired heart breaks into two.
But why is heartbreak so taboo
When our love seemed oh so true?
You always said you loved me too.
The feeling is one I thought you knew.
There's things I wish I could undo;
The things that make me feel so blue
Like when you said farewell, adieu.
I'm not saying that I'm one of few
But you always said you loved me too.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall,
Were you pushed or did you fall?
With glue and tape, I can put you back
Though you'll remain forever cracked.

I miss your eyes illuminating with the fire in your heart,
Burning as you ramble on before returning to the start.

The lyrics, the key change, the hook, the middle eight.
"This is the best part", you say, "this next part here, wait"

Musical jargon soaring high above my head for hours
While you sing me folk songs of women with hair full of flowers.

And though I didn't understand what you meant by A Minor,
I knew it sounded beautiful because your smile shone brighter.

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.

Waking up in the remains of regret with eyes that are dead,
Awkwardly exploiting the generous distance of your king sized bed.
We are physically together but emotionally apart.
I know it isn't me whose name is etched into your heart.
Dressing in the daylight, our eyes daren't to connect.
We share a final cigarette, it's all that we have left.
I know it's her you think of when you put on your jeans
Because it's he who I'm still longing for in each and every dream.

his smile more intriguing than that depicted in the mona lisa.

his hair so golden it puts van gogh's sunflowers to shame.

his eyes pop brighter than lichtenstein's art.

eat your heart out, monet, for my man is far more beautiful than impressionist landscapes.

and why did michelangelo not paint my darling on the sistine chapel?
for he is an angel on earth.

for he is a work of art.

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?

I recall how it was to be your woman. Terrified by that crazed look in your eye, and that sneer, that grimace, fuelled by frustration? Or some sort of love I didn't understand? Or maybe just the satisfaction you gained from making me thrall. I bet you never knew how many moans I faked in the hope that you'd stop. Perhaps you never realised your misinterpretation of my cries for help as cries of pleasure. The bruises on my body were temporary but the scars on my heart remain a constant reminder of you. And how you were all I thought I wanted, all I never had, and all I wish I didn't know.

In disgust of what was staring back at me, I smashed the screen into a million shards.

Angrier I grew as more of me I saw;
A million broken faces in a million broken parts.

No escape from my reflection or what lies inside.

No amount of shattered glass will allow for me to hide.

Do you remember how it used to be?
3am secrets between you and me.
You'd plead five minutes more,
You'd stand blocking the door,
You'd beg me to stay longer.
I'd fight, but you were stronger.

But now we're like strangers,
And suddenly all the dangers
Are clear and the cracks show.
I go to leave and you let me go.
We go five days with no texts,
No kisses, and no ***.

I hate how all the sparks have gone,
How all the kisses now feel wrong.
I miss the old us and how we were
And the memories which fade to blur.
Darling, darling can't you see?
All I want is you to fight for me?

Fight for us and what we had.
Fight for the good, fight for the bad.
Fight for the *** and the jealousy,
The 'I love you's spoken breathlessly.
Unless you desire a life so bleak
Don't give up on what is so unique.

I used to find it creepy
How you'd watch me undress so intently.
But now I find myself fighting to, for just a moment, catch your eye.

We used to feel lucky
Because I had you and you had me.
But these days I'm no longer the one who can make you fly.

You used to seem happy
When we would sit and we would just be.
But you realised I'm not like the drugs that can make you high.

Take me home
To the place that I know.
Where the grass is greener
And the air smells sweeter.
Take me to Neptunes fountain and the parks and the hills,
Where I can walk down a street without being offered pills.

Take me home
Where I'm never alone.
To the place I adore
And will cherish forever more.
Take me to the racecourse, the promenade and town hall,
Where I bask in bliss under the starlit sky, and deeper still I fall.

I am merely another story
Behind another window.
With or without me,
The game goes on.
Drowning in skyscrapers.
Crushed by industrialisation.
Suffocated from the inexhaustible thrill of the city.
I am enchanted by my insignificance

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.

A girl's bedroom is full of choices
Which she must choose to stop the voices.

Hair curly or hair straight?
Leave early or just wait?
Tall stilettos or comfy flats?
Quirky bag or one to match?

The saddest part of this conundrum
Is she's trying to impress a special someone
Who'll work his way into her bed
And then join the monsters in her head.

Kinda lost in my mind that's made of candy floss.
Everything's a blur in my green and hazy world.
Floating on a cloud where the silence is too loud.
Oh I love my cotton candy brain.

An actor I may be,
But only by Degree.
I guess you don't need a Drama School
To take the world as a bunch of fools.
You learn your lines,
Say you need "time",
And always play it cool.

A musician you may be,
But only by Degree.
Perhaps I should sing along
Next time you write a song.
Sing the highs and the lows,
And the cliche sorrows.
And wonder where we went wrong.

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?

Drip, drip, drip
From the bracelets of blood.
Drip, drip, drip
From the salty eye-flood.
Drip, drip, drip
Followed by thud thud thud.
Drip, drip, drip
In the rain and the mud.
Drip, drip, drip
In the mud and the rain.
Drip, drip, drip
Sounds like the loneliest pain.
Drip, drip, drip
All over again.
Drip, drip, drip
Walk but don't trip.
Drip, drip, drip
Go on, just one more sip.
Drip, drip, drip
And then glug, glug, glug
Drip, drip, drip*
Until you're sick, sick, sick.

Bound together in ecstasy
Bodies shaking,
Pupils dilating.
No one I'd rather see.
No place I'd sooner be.
Because nothing makes more sense
Than the thought of *you and me.

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?

Flowers in her hair like the first blossom of spring.
Swaying in the wind, picturesque.
The birds, for her, they sing.

When her branches lay bare and she's empty and colder,
Don't take it personally,
Don't be afraid to hold her.

Seasons come and go
And this you should know,
She will never be evergreen.

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.

You deserve a new delivery,
A sentence unspoken.
But when my lips do part,
And as do we,
I fear of unoriginality.
There are words that fit
But do not do justice.
Do not tire of me,
I pray,
Until I find a new way.

I've written 64 poems about you.
Let this be the last.
I plead and I beg you,
Become a thing of my past.

If you love me
Then leave me
Like you left me before,
When you left me for dead on our ***-tainted floor.

Get out, get out of my brain and my head,
Out from under my skin and the sheets of my bed.

I'm not asking for our memories to be all erased,
Just asking to ease the pain of lovesick and daze.
I'm asking for my thoughts to be clear of this haze,
And to find love easier than in the paths of this maze.

Is it too much to ask to come down from your high?
To remove the imprint of handprint from my hideous thigh?
To fall down from something which once made me fly?
This rhyme scheme's a mess and I can only guess why.
It symbolises the chaotic and desperate tears that I cry.
And I cry off my makeup only to reapply
Mascara tears that give me another black eye.
And I cry and I cry till my eyes are run dry.
Want to know something else I hate about I?
I said this is the last but I know that's a lie.

Memories are personal.

An experience may, at first, appear to have been shared by a number of people:

A concert, a meeting, a party, a date...

But upon closer analysis you realise that no two people have ever really shared an experience, a moment, a time, a memory.

That concert.
Attended by thousands.
But did they notice the short-lived beads of sweat rushing to death as they escape the forehead of the crazed fan beside you?

And that date.
There was two of you there.
But did she see the way you looked at her, besotted, and grinned when she dropped her fork? And the way you pretended not to notice?

No amount of camera roll and no 140 character tweet can do justice to the complexity of the human memory.

Finite,
irreplaceable,
and totally unique.

Persistently you go
But she still says no,
Damaging your ego.
Then finally you date her
Though you know you'll learn to hate her
Like you hated all the rest.
But still you try your best.
High maintenance, she puts you to the test.
You accuse her of being a cheater
Which justifies how you beat her,
And the way you mistreat her.
Know you should be sweeter
But still you fail.
Repeat of past lovers,
You bail.
She's just like the others.
Girls are all the same
And *** and love are games.
Boy, don't you feel ashamed?
You think relationships are lame
So you again you quit;
Go find a hit
Because reality is ****.
You need a high to escape
From the feelings you hate
And the fear in her face.
But what's this? Now you want her back?
Realised she's the one who kept you on the right track?
Sober up and then you beg her to stay,
Beg her not to go away,
And not to leave you by yourself
Like an unwanted book collecting dust on the shelf.
Your power over her has gone,
She knows she's done no wrong,
Now she's singing better songs
About how she's moved on
So she ups and leaves.
She saw right through the tricks all hidden up your sleeves.
Should've treated her better
While you had the chance.
She's wearing someone else's sweater
She ain't under your trance
She ain't under your spell
Because now she's with somebody who can treat her well.

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.

Who am I?
I'll never know,
So you don't stand a chance.

I, the real me, has been hidden by fuchsia feathers and fairy wings,
Restrained in ribbons since in infancy.

Sometimes I think even my coffin will be smothered in sequins and surrounded by only my proudest of family.
"She was always so sensible"
"What an angel"
They'll say as they watch me lie there, one last time.

I was one granddaughter amongst six grandsons. Or as they put it, I was "our little princess"
(Even at the age of seventeen in maturity's mirage).

My entire life has already been decided for me. I am destined, doomed you might say, to be great. Great in their eyes, adequate in mine.

Never was I free to make my own choice.
Never was I free to find my own voice.
Never was I free
And never will I be.

It saddens me deeply
To know you'll be gone
And you'll never be there
For me when it goes wrong.
The clock is ticking and
Every second that goes by
Is another less second
That I'll spend by your side.
I'm haunted by the thought
That you'll soon find another,
And you'll start out as friends
And then bloom into lovers.
Her hand will replace mine
And its place in your hair.
And when you get down
It'll be her who is there.
Her lips will replace mine
And their place on your chest
And it'll be her who reminds you
That, babe, you're the best.
Promise me one thing,
Just to never forget
The girl with the block fringe
Who is so happy you met.

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.

My life has been misleading
Or at least that's how it seems.
I've been brought up on lies on love
And fairytale dreams.

But now that I am older
I feel I've been deceived.
Nobody told the truth to me:
That sometimes people leave.

Do you remember what Harold was told by Maude?
"Oh Harold, that's wonderful. Go and love some more."
A young boy of your age should not be tied to the ground,
He should be free to love and learn in no bounds.
But a man like yourself should be only with myself
I assure you that together we need nobody else.

A to B and A to B
Then back to A and back to B.
Monotonously making their way round the map
Taking Tom, ****, and Harry from A to B.

Oh, where would we be
Without the drivers who transport anyone that they see?
Enabling us to go about our lives no matter who or where we may be?

To allow old Mable to get out and about
Or old man Joe to leave the house.

To help adolescent Amy to see friends across town
And **** time for Doris by simply driving her around.

I know we complain that they so rarely smile
But think of how far they can take you, for miles.

I know we complain that at times they are late
And I know that the one guy made you miss your hot date

But think of that time you were saved from the rain
And how the bus helped you when your legs were in pain.

Think of that time you were saved from the exercise
Which we in 2015 do so despise.

This isn't ironic, it's a genuine ode
To the bus driver heroes to who I do owe.

I want to be thin.
I want to trade skin
And what lies within.
Let's trade prayers,
Trade pledges.
My curves for your edges.
Let's trade places,
Faces.
Trade lack of embraces.
I'll take your eyes
And your highs
In exchange for my toes
And my lows.
If only.

I'm going crazy trying to think of new ways to tell you that you're perfect. That your smile gives me a whole new reason for life. Three words match perfectly, with a whole new understanding, but it isn't enough. It doesn't do justice to the way it feels to wake up in up in your arms, or the butterflies I get when you catch my eye. While the search seems impossible, I'm still going to try. But for now I suppose that "I love you" will do.

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.

I hate myself and my impatient ways
And how I overthink **** for days and days.

I hate the way I envy those better than me
And the way that seems to be everybody I see.

I hate how I cry every time I'm alone
And how they pronounce it 'scon' when I say it's 'scone'.

I hate that I'm lonely in a room full of mates
And my belief that I'm unappealing while I refuse any dates.

I really detest my mousy brown hair
And I hate how I'm here when I'd rather be there.

I'm starting to think never happy will I be
But maybe I could if I just wasn't me.

Jealousy isn't an emotion.
It's a physical pain.
It's the twisting of the dagger, persistently fighting it's way deeper into your core.
The rubbing of the salt into the already excruciating wound.
The way your heart is so broken that you can almost feel the blood dripping and draining every inch of your soul.
The way each breath feels like your last, for just a moment, because you don't know how you could possibly carry on. Or how you could possibly endure another second of this pain.
The sheer chaos in your mind like a whirlwind of terror and panic and just physical sickness.
Paranoia. Disgust. Anger.
The voice in your head will never cease.
"She's better than you."
"She writes more eloquently."
"She dances more gracefully."
"She doesn't even have to try."
"You'll never be her."
And the worst part is how you hate yourself and the envious monster you've become.

My glass was always half full
But now my bed is half empty.
My despondency begs the question:
*Did you ever really love me at all?

Is the pain of saying farewell to you worth the joy I get when we say hello?
Every train station tear drop, and all the goodbyes we spoke through choked up throats, I would do over again in exchange for one last night in your arms. Love is enough.

It's a dull, lifeless existence for the middle class girl.

But I wanted to feel something.
I wanted to feel something real.

Electrified by the thrill of your touch; the light pressure of your fingertips on the small of back that sent shivers down my spine, awakening carnal instincts I knew not that I had.
Your kiss that infected me with the rush adrenaline which I would crave forever more, and search desperately to rediscover. And I never could. I never will.