He has such soft hands.
Your hands are tough but they are
Always where mine belong.

Like sodium to
Water. Young and reckless with
Our hearts and ourselves.

Depression is all
About if you loved me, you
Would. But you wouldn't.

I'm a MAN.

A rugby-playing,
Football-loving,
Pie-eating
MAN.

A nerdy t-shirt wearing,
Glasses bearing,
Bad-teeth faring
MAN.

A sad,
Lonely,
Little
MAN.

A nice-dressing,
Debonair-looking,
Smooth-talking
MAN.

A rose-giving,
Hotel-whisking,
Loving and kissing
MAN.

A drunk,
A lush,
An alcy
MAN.

A person with
Thoughts
Feelings
Pain
Sentiment
I like stuff
I hide my feelings
I **** up

I cry.

Yes, this word is worse than
*****,
Stupid,
Vapid.

Fat means
Unacceptable.
Outcast.
Ugly.

And I might have
‘Great legs’
And I might be
‘Thin’

But that doesn’t mean
The fear is not there.
It is forced upon us
By everyone

Until we are called
Insecure
And the cuts on my arms
Only make that worse

But we are also called
Vain
For only trying to love
What we are.

If you wanted to
Talk to me, you would, right? I
Miss you more than air.

You drunk texted me
Last night from Copenhagen.
I've missed that too much.

you don't get it you
never got it stop saying
that you understand

I have lived my life
Trying only to do right.
Here, be home with me.

My brother farts in
His sleep. I wish he would stop.
My bedroom smells ****.

We go together like
Digestives dipped in tea.
Your girlfriend and a hike.
A sting and a bee.

I love you like
Dogs love chasing postmen.
Halfords love a bike.
Teachers love red pen.

I need you like
Meerkats need you to go to a different website.
Aunt Josephine needed Ike.
Ghosts need to fright.

In summary, then,
We go together like
I love you like
I need you like

Really poor metaphors.
A reference to popular culture.
An ironic rhyme scheme and rhythm that vanishes towards the end.
Don’t you love a flirt, darling?

“There's loads of boring stuff. Like Sundays and Tuesdays and Thursday afternoons. But now and then there are Saturdays.” ~ ‘Doctor Who’*

People think that Tuesday afternoons are boring. These are the type of people who get up at three-***-em on a Saturday afternoon then pa-a-a-arty all that night.

I don’t get on with these people.

No, for me, Tuesdays are glorious. Tuesdays are ‘me’ time.
Tuesdays are full of art, like French and English and cinnamon lattes in Costa as I read a book.

Or I write.
I create some poetry or prose – nothing spectacular but something that means I’ve said something about the world.

Then, sometimes, the afternoon is empty.
I don’t have a tutorial, I don’t have work and I don’t have people. I can just bake and dance and sing without having to pretend.

I love Tuesday afternoons.

An artist
In Japan, I think, or somewhere,
Built a swimming pool
That looks like a pool
But isn’t
And people go inside it and can look up
And see the people looking at them.
I saw it on Facebook,
“Like if it’s cool.”
Heart heart x x.

It doesn’t beat actually being underwater,
The surreality when you open your eyes
And the chlorine or the salt stings
And you see swimming trunks
Or fish
And things better not mentioning
And you look up and see the ceiling
But beyond that is the sky
And beyond that is space
And beyond that is stars
And beyond that is galaxies
And beyond that is…
Everything.

And you feel so deep underwater,
But you’ve barely scratched the surface.

Piqué, piqué, piqué, pirouette.

Arabesque. I stand there and you spin me around en pointe.
You complete me. We dance and the music is like the background
To our focal point.
We are the centre stage.

Echappé, échappé, relevé.
Pas de chat ensemble.
Repeat à l’autre côté.

You take your hands from my waist now.
We need to complete the choreography.
And I feel lonely without you,
Although you are just on the other side of the room,
By the stereo.
I miss you.

Dancers fall for their partners all the time,
So I will never tell you how I feel
Because love will be the thing to tear us apart.

It was also
TARDIS blue
Dark Knight black
Balloons
Flying houses
Hugs
Falling asleep holding hands
Staring at your lips
Staring at my lips
Sweeney Todd slicing necks
Singing, singing, singing
Coldplay
Ed Ed Ed
(writing with Taylor was the worst move he ever made)
Opinion
Laughter
You're wrong
You're wrong
I'm sorry
You're not sorry
You're never sorry
I love you
Please don't
I won't
Doctor Who?
Doctor Who.

Lonely part of me,
***-starved and kamikaze,
Will need only you.

The prompt says,
“A person whose life you’re curious about.”
I shall use this as an opportunity to mention
******* next door.
That is his name.
He knows I mean him.

You never ******* talk about anything
And you always say I lie to you
And so what if I do?
What good is it to tell you the truth
When you never tell me anything
And I have to worm it out of you?
Why does it matter?
It just ******* matters
Because I want to know you!
And yeah I like you like that
And yeah *** with you would be quite nice
But who cares?
You haven’t told anyone else
That you’re on a break with your girlfriend;
You never really talk to anyone else.
And yeah you just friend-zoned me
At the same time as throwing out the double-entendres:
You should be in a bed,
You said
A bed, yeah, I noticed
How you phrased that
So I left
And you followed me to the door.
And I don’t think you understand what I want from you.
But yeah I do find you attractive,
And yeah I’d quite like to *******,
And yeah I was trying to creep you out by saying that
But so what?
Because you said you don’t know what you want
And again, why tell me, tell her
Surely.
Is there something you want from me?
But you said no
And yeah I think you lied.
And yeah you said I’m a good friend
And I think that’s a lie too.
And I’m waiting for us to fall out again
Just like when you apologised
And I asked why
So you said next time you wouldn’t bother.
And then you didn’t reply
When I said you’re not any more special than anyone else.
And it’s just like when I said I didn’t think you liked me at all;
You got offended.
And yeah I like you
But so what?
I’m not trying to get in the way of anything;
Do what you want,
It’s your life,
I’m just curious.
And why text me of all people?
Of course I don’t know
But did you text the other girls
So much over the holidays
Really?
Decide what you want.
You know what I want.
I don’t mind being friend-zoned
If that’s all you want
But I don’t think it’s all you want.
I just think you need to decide
If you do ‘love’ her.
And did I have something to do with it?
Was it on the 5th?
Is that why you were mad at me?
Why did you take it out on me?
Yeah I can be over-sensitive
But you can be a ****.
Sometimes you’re such a child.
And you say I need to grow up
But so do you.
And, God, I’d really like to do you
Which is why it’s so ******* complicated!
So yeah I’m trying to get over you.
And you ask what I’m thinking and it’s nothing
But you don’t believe me
And why not?
It’s the truth.
And whenever I’m around you
Yeah you ******* terrify me
Because I’ve never wanted someone this much
And you’re only next door
And did I ever tell you I love your hugs
And the way you smell
And your hands
And isn’t that really ******* creepy?
But at the same time
I hate how you patronise me
And tease me
Just because I’ll react badly
And yeah you’re a bully
And yeah you treat me like **** sometimes
But somehow I forgive you
Because when everything's fine,
It’s really fine.
I just wish you weren’t so much of an ****,
Or at least I wish I knew why you’re so much of an ****.
And basically, that’s what goes on in my head.

Every time I see you.

Your turn.

Watching Pixar with
Anyone but you is wrong,
Inherently.

Love is...*

Fun, right? Ha.
Enjoyable? Some luck.
Glorious? That’s one word for it.

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…”
Passionately. That is all.
I am you; how could I not be?
I have no choice in this matter,
And now I must wait for you
Here, underground.

How could you leave me
For three years? To fend for myself.
I needed you at the wedding,
To reassure me that I was doing the right thing.
I missed you.

O! Never separate us again –
My life, my love, my soul!
I will wait here, eternally,
Until we meet again

And I can exact my revenge.

You know it's bad
When a simple
Two-note ringtone
Feels like
A shard of glass
Slowly edging its way
Into my heart.

That ringtone means
Trying not to anger you;
Dancing around you
To keep things okay.
But it also means
That you still
Want to talk to me.

And the really ******* stupid thing
Is that that means
More than his I love yous,
More than nights spent with him,
More than countless messages from him.
One text from you
Makes everything better

And worse. Again.

I am sexting right
Now, and dear God do I wish
I were sexting you.

You know when people tell you about love?
They tell you about happiness and dreams.
They laugh and bless everything up above.
They tell you everything is as it seems.
You know when people tell me about love?
I think of sunflowers and custard creams.
I imagine fluffy white clouds and doves
And yellow roses and pastoral greens.
You know when people go on about love?
They conjure images of snuggling up
In winter by a fire or a warm stove.
Hot chocolate in a pretty new cup.
When people tell you about love they forget to mention
Pain and anger and hurt and look at you with her.

I just want to curl up and cry curl up and die
Everything hurts and I want it all to end
Not fair not fair not fair
What’s wrong
Don’t know don’t ask
Like you care
Don’t pretend
Don’t text don’t call don’t talk
Breathe in and out
Breathe too fast
Can’t breathe
Can’t stop
Tears fall
Don’t know don’t ask
Help me help me help me
But no help comes.

You are long gone now.
I would like my scarf back, please.
It smells like me, but...

"Brake, brake, brake!" I squeal.
We are slammed forward. You say,
"You're so beautiful."

You really loved me,
Didn't you? Darling, dear, love.
(Past tense slices souls.)

Just unfriend me.
(*******.)
It's not like I get
Waves
Of missing you
Any more.

(They're more like tsunamis.)

I hope you not only
Delete my number
But block it too
So if I drunkenly
(Stupidly)
Text you
You won't get it.

(Because I still text you a lot.)

And I hope you and
The others
(Those *******)
Meet up in August.
Go to the Fringe;
Have fun.
And I hope you don't notice
My absence.

(Because I notice yours every day.)

I hope you bump into
My old uni bestie
(At Glasgow)
And don't remember
That you met her through me.

(I know exactly how I first met you.)

I hope you never see
My post in halls
(If it still gets sent there)
Again.
Never see my name
Again.

(Every time I order take away I see yours.)

I hope you can look
Her in the eye.
(Never tell her another lie.)
Love her.
Hold her.

(Like you'll never do for me.)

And oh -
Something else.
I hope you burn
With pain
And hurt
And anger
And I don't wish you ill,
But ******* hell
I do not wish you well.

I hope your tsunamis of
Depression
Remind you of me
And of how well I knew you
And of how fighting with me
Used to make you feel
Better about yourself and

I hope to all the Gods in all the worlds
That it kills you inside.

I am starving. I
Am starved of your lips, your teeth,
Your tongue, your mouth; kiss.

One of my favourite memories
- Of all time, in fact -
Is of us bickering in the kitchen.
(God knows what over.)
And as our voices got more heated,
And our bodies closer together,
And it was on the verge of becoming a row,
Someone yelled,
"Oh, just get married already!"
Now this is something I've heard before,
With many a friend,
But it has never before shut
Two people up
So instantly.
You and I always
Have something to say, but
The look we exchanged then,
As we bowed our heads
And returned to your washing up
And my cooking!
Not yet, I think.
Maybe in five years' time.

You never gave me a choice
When it came to who I fell for.
Of course it would be you,
You sad piece of beauty.
You, who I could spend time with
Always, for the rest of my life.
I've got a picture of you in my mind
And I hope it never fades;
One of you in all your imperfection,
Because, darling, I do see your flaws too.
I’m not blinded by you.
You’re not dazzling in any way, but
I hope I never lose that feeling I get
When you text me first.
And the thing is,
I’ve always thought that all love does
Is end

But with you
It’s never going to start.
You’re already in love with someone else,
So we can’t even fall apart.
I can’t even hurt properly.
I can’t even hate you,
I can’t even come away with a
Cute story
To tell my daughter.

Someone once asked me,
"Was it a proper affair?"
Yes, of course it was.

Things that have been mutually frequented -
CDs, mugs, kisses,
(memories) -
are but fragile leaves
waiting to be blown away
on the winds of time;
until one day
inchoate tears
will find us there,
on the kitchen floor at 2 am,
saying wordlessly:
"I wish I'd never met him.
I wish I'd never met him."

Rain shatters window.
Lightning flashes from above.
Think novels of you.

Staring at your name is
Green at the end of a dock on the other side of a bay.

Nights in the kitchen are
Yellow like a monster's skin.

My lipstick stain on your cheek is as
Red as a letter on my shirt.

Fighting with you is
Black like thick blood, clotting on a London street.

Your eyes match my eyes;
Blue as an evening party.

Our love was as violent as
Violet, tying her hair up with a thought.

And shame was
Grey, like Oliver's porridge.

Loving you was so
Loud I can today hear you
Exit my shower.

I hate night-time.
It’s cold and dark and there’s so much ******* light pollution
You can’t even see the stars.
There’s no hope.
You can’t even see tomorrow because by midnight,
Tomorrow has already come
Yet it has hardly been.

I love night-time.
We sing, we dance, we stay up until that old cliché:
The morning light arrives and it’s good,
Another night wasted.
- Wasting time isn’t necessarily time wasted. -
Then the day carries on itself and all I can think is,
What will happen tomorrow night?

It might be cold and dark and hopeless
But it’s fun
And who cares about sleep?

When it comes to you
I am always torn between
Good luck with the future
And
Go **** yourself.

Of course I send neither.

Don't you preach to me.
Don't you stand there, all
"I found love, look how happy we are,"
And tell me I have to
Date the wrong guys
To find the right guy
When you are standing there
Preaching to me
All along.

No. No I am not
"Okay." I have never been.
Sure as hell; I'm fine.

And the award for
The best lie
Goes to...

You

For making me believe
That you were capable of
Caring
About me.

Shall we hear your speech?

No not stupid
You stupid
Me learned.
No not drunk.

What about more lines
Than just four?
One more?
Two more?
Change in form and
Stanza size.
What'd your English teacher say?

*******, *******,
Don't care, won't listen.
You don't mean nothin' - nowt at all.
Oh look back to four.

What do people write about?
There's a girl here wearing heels
To a relaxed creative thing.
Do I write about that?

Do I write about 'love'?
But I don't believe in it.
Go on then: green fields, pretty skies, blue-eyed boy.
Melt my heart.

Or nature: the pastoral, eh?
A green thought in a green shade.
Be conscious of the spilled blood that went into the making of the wild sky.
Sheep and cows and trees and England and dear God what is that smell?

Dr Evans said the last thing is death.
To sink into the ground and be eliminated.
Forgotten and remembered.
I should very much like that.

Well, there you have it.
A poem about poetry.
Call it postmodernism
But really I'm just bored.

People ask,
"When did you fall in love with him?"

And I reply,
"I think it was
That time
We watched Monty Python
Together
At 2 a.m."

I get up. I stretch out.
I make tea. I head down.
Shower. ***. Shower ***.
Get dressed.
Man hits the brakes too soon.
I'm eating yoghurt with a spoon.
Who let this old woman
Leave her garden?

I never miss this anguish
When it's not here.

You destroyed me,
And I let you.
You lit a fire within me
I mistook for the passion
Of poets
And I let it eat me up
And consume the light from my eyes
Until nothing was left.
I mistook you for a hero
When all you were was a person;
no better, no worse than anyone.
And I loved you.
I love you still,
And always will.
And that flame consumes me
Even today,
Because a misanthrope like me
Cannot help but romanticise such things.
That fire burns like the blood that runs between us,
And I mistook it for the fire
That warms the soul and the hearth;
That flickers between friends;
When in truth,
You were merely a lighter
To a pathetic piece of paper.

Bet you still wish you could
Bang your desk against the wall
To get me to text you.

Bet you're sat there wishing
It were me instead of her
You come home to.

Bet you miss me
A hell of a lot more
Than I miss you.

I am back to me;
Alone in a coffee shop,
Weeping and drinking tea.

Let's be mad, just dance together.
A crazy symphony in harmony.
I think they call it...
Fun!

Haha, isn't this great?
Big sad word: alive.
Words were funny, are funny, or will be -
Tenses were somewhere too. Somewhere? Everywhere.

Oooh, ain't you talkin' crazy?
We could get married, eh?
Have half a dozen kids and
Teach 'em to dance like us.

Let's leave, doll.
Get in the car and just drive.
Drop the top, doll,
Let me see the starlight.

O! An open road -
Reckless like Gatsby!
I feel it, the road getting narrower
The further we go.

Dance with me, doll,
Let's just dance.
Here in this state-side desert
Dance with me, inside me -

Well then, darling,
It's been - ah - fun.
We didn't get married, didn't have kids,
Didn't tell stories.

You'll always be my
Big 'what-if'
But it's not like I care.
It's not like you do, either.

So go home, doll,
We're drunk.
I missed you, miss you, will miss you.
Tenses again. I loved you.

I LOVED YOU.
I HATE YOU.
I WILL REGRET YOU.
I scream (screamed, will scream) to the Heavens.

You and I walk a fragile line
That I never thought I'd live to see break.
I should have known it would all this time.

I'm standing here and I can see it in your eyes:
All the love I should have known was fake
And every last one of your lies.

You said, "I am yours and you are mine."
"I'll never leave you alone," was just another promise you made.
I should have known that all this time.

I spent my life thinking we were fine
When I should have known you were just take, take, take.
I never realised all those lies.

You know how the time flies.
I wonder, "Were we just a mistake?"
I should have known all this time.

Can you believe it was just yesterday we had the time of our lives?
Who would have known how bittersweet this would be?
Did you ever see that fragile line?
The one we treaded all that time.

I have a poem
That tells of us. I read it
When I want to hurt.

Je me suis sentie comme
Cendrillon.
Because we met at a ball
And I had on my best dress
And you were in, oh God,
A kilt!
Perfect man, yes?

Bumping into you at the cinema
You didn't recognise me
But when the film started
(Which film? I was too aware of you)
You tapped me on the shoulder
And whispered,
"Finally!*"

So I asked you on a date.
No, not a date.
Shush.
Coffee. Let's go for coffee
And be friends.
(****.)
Four hours later...

And then
There was that time
We stayed up
Until 6am
Because neither of us
Wanted to say night.

(Last night.)

And this is a love story
Starting again
And it's perfect in ever way
All I've ever wanted
Look - poem perfect -
But I don't know
If I can handle it
Again.