I didn't know my first love would be like this
it's not an explosion that's rocked my world
not a tender heart blooming
not even a year long ****-fest
it's trying to wipe tears away when he tells you he's not fit to be with anyone
it's hiding the parts of you that you struggle with
so he doesn't have to carry the burden too
love isn't something for me
love is something for him
it doesn't end, it doesn't falter

I don't explode, I don't yell, I don't scream
I just hurt all the time until the hurt hurts
I don't want to be released from these chains
because i've come to love them
like i've come to love you
weather this is a short time in our long time
or the longest time of our short time together
I know i'll never love like this again
and i know my heart won't break
in tiny shards, piece by piece
for anyone like this again
there will never be this many pieces of me to give out again
loving him isn't kissing in the rain
or sweaty bodies intermingling in the midday sun
it's the nights i've spent facing the wall
choking back tears
because he's said two words to me all night,
again.
loving him is not being loved back
because there's not enough of him for me.

and soon i'll stop missing you so badly
yesterday i forgot how often your shoulder dislocates
and the other day i finally changed my bed sheets
i'm washing my clothes for the first time since we broke up
i'm doing okay
until i'm not doing okay
it's taking all my willpower not to talk to you
because i miss you so badly
that every day when i get home i expect to find you curled up in my bed
but you're not
and we're not
but I still am.

It’s hard i guess, this time in your life. Everything is about being somewhere else and doing other things while your stuck in the same place doing the same thing again and again. It’s hurts; the yearning. The want for something- anything different than these sore joints and weak knees. All these growing pains to boot. I’ve been with Andy for nearly three months, we haven’t said I love you in the words that mean it. We say ‘I like you’ and ‘lets get a dog’, ‘I love your mum’ and ‘how do you want me to *******’ and it starts to ache. My elbows crack before I can fully extend them and every morning when I wake up I have a glass of juice because I know milk will make me ill. They say I need to eat something but i’m full of all the cracking hip joints and dislocating shoulders that I find in every single waking day. I’m full from eating Andrews pain, it’s an every-day thing. His growing pains and mine are like siamese twins. I wake up in the morning, sometimes alone and it’s easier to do my day like that, without the wanting to return to a life where i’m in a place where he wants me to be, but I have to wake up, I have to put my brave face on and crawl through with my creaking ankles and cracking knuckles, all these growing pains building me into the adult that I never wanted to be. I guess I always wanted something better for myself, something different for myself. A lifestyle where the growing pains are still there but they’re stifled by my ever-growing creativity and my lust for life and living. This is what I was handed, to so many people it’s like a bunch of fancy desserts on a silver platter. To me it’s a mask I put on every day, I smile, a ‘thank you’ a ‘good morning’ as in-genuine as every single ‘it was nice to meet you’ at a party where you just had to stifle panic attacks all night. It wasn’t nice to meet you. bad morning. No thank you. I never anticipated it; this is the time in your life where no one around you hears your growing pains nobody hears a symphony because their own ****** racket is beating loud and clear like a drum ensemble in their ears. This is adult-hood, you’re on your own kid.

A million drops of water fall outside my window
it's a summer rain
our skin sticks together but we keep each other close anyway
a million leaves fall when the trees go brown
it's autumn and I realise why it's called fall
socks slide across the tiles in my kitchen
we don't have any heat in the house except the heat from the clothes dryer
we sit by it almost every night so our hands don't get too sore
we spend the first warm day in a while
lying in the sun in my backyard in warm comfortable silence
our mouths filled with cotton wool; thats words we've never said
until the mornings are earlier and the nights are later again
we're together
the world keeps changing around us
I couldn't count the amount of quiet days we've had
on the hands of  10 of our closest friends
there's too many seasons going by
for us to have time to say what we're thinking
too many to say what the under current says
it's throbbing around us
with words we'll never say
but words that we didn't need to say
because we've told each other a million times
in everything but words

you and i in my bed
the sun rises but we dont
for a couple more hours
until the world is ready for us
and visa-versa
.........
our hair smells like sea water
and our hands are dry,
skin salty.
we both smell like my bed
from a day of only looking at each other
and the inside of my bedroom.
I touch your arms and you don't recoil
I can touch any part of you that I want to
and that makes me feel like you're mine.
You grab my throat and kiss my cheek
in the speed that it takes
for me to take one breath and then another.
I've never had a first love, but you;
you could be it.
..................
there are a lot of people
but there is also you and me
everyone else claps their hands
and it’s thunderous
when we shout
the world only sighs
and i settle my hand back down
into your waist
the world buzzes past
and all we can do is watch and wait

on this codeine cocktail
trying to fill another sleepless night
I can hardly type
but I roll a cigarette with ease
how is it
that the things in life i shouldn't be good at; i am
and visa versa

Before every boy touches you he feels the need to say
'I like curvy girls'
and they grab your stomach and your thighs
and all the places you look in the mirror and feel ill
it's not them who has to look at you
when the lights are on
'I like curvy girls'
they probably like skinny girls too
they like an available hole
don't let a boy call you curvy
don't let a boy tell you he likes you
because of something you hate
don't let him bruise you and throw you away
and don't you crawl back to him
because you think he's the only boy who will say those words