I think it's funny
how you string me along
thinking I believe everything that flows out of your mouth
which just silently screams falseness

I think it's funny
how you think you can pick me up and drop me again
like a child being reckless with a toy
not realising its true worth

I think it's funny
how you think your lies are disguised as promises
and you think I won't see behind the mask
of your priorities

I think it's funny
how you claim to be friends with me
but really, others are more appealing to you
whilst I'm just a ghost in your background

I think it's funny
how you tug little pieces of my heart away
because I believed you were my friend
but you do not care about my heartstrings snapping

I think it's funny
how your little stabs of supposed superiority
are reflected in the pinpricks which you force into my back
which deflated all my confidence and self worth

I think it is very unfunny
how all of these pointless metaphors
are what I feel our friendship finally became

I remember the time, when we first met
our eyes locked
both so intertwined with desire
wondering what could happen

I remember the time, when we had a conversation
the depth was like a bottomless ocean
falling into the trench that lied deep within us
both mutually zealous

I remember the time, when I gazed into your eyes
stars danced instead of your pupils
your universe formed so perfectly
freely fabricating constellations

I remember the time, we first drank alcohol together
both intoxicated out of our minds
truth spilled out without a worry
like an overflowing glass of water

I remember the time, that I found out
you had met another
her golden hair glittering in the breeze
whilst my own limp brown fringe drooped like a dehydrated flower
over my melancholy eyes

I remember the time, I walked alone
the grey clouds matching my grey thoughts
as I looked across the reservoir, so still and untouched
wondering if the stone I just dropped into the water
would create a ripple: a change, a conversion in your head
about me again.

I remember all the times.

Holidays are a time for relaxing
for enjoyment
for peace, tranquil and serenity

she sat on the beach
an Italian ice cream cone in her hand
and the light breeze ruffling her long hair
drawing patterns with her delicate fingers in the soft sand.

This heaven of a place
made all the diabolic feelings go, vanish
into a state of oblivion
for a duration.

She cried her remaining tears into the sea
all the scandalous thoughts physically floating
poisoning the sparkling blue water.

Her debilitating emotions
were soon to be washed up on somebody else's shore.
Possibly.

Possibly to pour down as rain
over her own hometown
her own house
her own life

again.

When flowers sense the sunlight
their head turns in that direction
to absorb all the energy in the world

I, for one
Cannot turn flowers heads
More weeds grasp my appeal

I don't know what I am. Maybe
the moon, which only knows at night
how it really feels

But I guess, sometimes
The weeds staring in my direction
are flowers deep in their roots

Masked by their prickly exterior
Nobody seem to realise
Their insides matter

I hate how
Every now and then
You remind me you're there
without me. Do you know
how hard, how impacting
your metaphorical slap was?
Your hand print still daubed on my skin
the only part of you that remains.
You faded away, in my mind,
for a while. But
every now and then
when that song plays
your image is mangled in the melody
fighting to escape my awfully messed up mind
and your presence in the lyrics
harms the harmonies.
When the morning comes
we go our separate ways
but you're still pacing round my mind
with nothing else to do
no one else to see
I realise I'm just lonely.

Someone once told me
to mend a broken person
breaks the mender them self

I tried to rearrange their broken heart
But as I reassembled it
The shards of glass sunk into my skin
As if it was heavily pored.

My emotions fell down like hail
on a harsh winter's day. However
I felt the rain wash over me
Sending chills through my heart
Soaking me for all eternity

No one gave me a towel
To dab away the imbibed feelings
of everything, from love to hate
to lust and lies

Someone once told me
To mend a broken person
Breaks the mender them self