Weekend away; cramped in the car.
Pile everyone in, bags and cases.
Stained glass seasons hung on the wall -
Time is inevitable;
Nowhere is this clearer than Fife, Tayside,
Aberdeenshire. The fishing boats and harbourside
Sell ice cream. You struggle to find that
Quintessential smokie but instead find the residential cat
At an upmarket play park; bright colours
Against that claustrophobic sky. The world
Is so small. How did we ever get lost here?
God is love, they tell us, but what is love, dear?
A passionate commitment; we are never alone.
But I do wonder: where will these places go?

I have not smiled so
Hard in eleven months. God,
do I wish we were -

Bright, burning RED
I see it through the darkness;
The only real thing
There, tying me down,
Holding me still.
RED RED RED

And now the sun glows ORANGE.
Rising in the sky
Like a God.
Apollo in his chariot,
Looking down on us.
ORANGE ORANGE ORANGE

The sky fades to YELLOW
Now, a peculiar, ugly colour. I like it.
Your face lights up now,
Looks better this way.
The tinge of your skin -
YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW

I see you in GREEN
When I think of you.
And I think of you often.
I think of you hopefully, longingly, jealously.
I can't help it.
GREEN GREEN GREEN

They say that BLUE
Is a cold colour,
But no, it is warm. It is the sea and the sky and the summer.
They say your favourite colour is that of your true love's eyes.
Guess you're not my true love. Ah well.
BLUE BLUE BLUE

You gave me INDIGO
Roses on the first of our birthdays we spent together.
You'd tried to dye them my favourite colour
But of course it hadn't worked.
I laughed at your failure. Loved you for it.
INDIGO INDIGO INDIGO

Skies of VIOLET
Are breathed upon us by the cruellest of months:
April.
At the twilight hour the cold, callous evening
Tears you from me. Go back to her, then.
VIOLET VIOLET VIOLET

These are the colours that bind us together.
These are the colours that tear us apart.

Another lonely night,
And I'm staring at the vast black sky.
It is the eve of my twentieth year
And I cannot help but compare it to yours.
A text at midnight; a present wrapped with a bow;
An I love you waiting, if you wanted it.
Here I sit, waiting as the hours roll by,
Jumping every time the phone rings
Because I hope not hope it is you.
You call me up so often, usually,
Just to break me like a promise.
You are back in the country,
I hear. Back to see me? No.
It is the eve of my twentieth year, dear,
And now I think I should stop writing to you.
This has gone on long enough, don't you think?
It is the eve of my twentieth year,
And a part of me left broken and unruly,
Not yet healed by mountains of therapy
And kisses and love,
Is aching only for you.
It is the eve of my twentieth year
And a part of me knows
That tomorrow I can **** myself.
No broken promises on my part.

You don't love me now
Because you knew me before
You ****** me over.

You always ask me
Why I care for you so much.
Simply, I love you.

I cut myself today.

Not that this is irregular,
Of course,
As you well know.

Or do you know?

You said that you're sorry
That I'm not doing well
At the moment.

But neither are you.

I will never tell you this, but
I message you only
When I cannot hide my worry.

Nothing I send is for me.

You won't care, of course.
You certainly try to hide being ill.
As most minutes I hide

The all-consuming agony

That is how much I care about you.
Don't you leave me.
Don't you ever ******* leave me

Again.

I love you more than life.

Hurricane Bertha is raging outside,
Tearing down branches and trees and houses,
And still I know that
I love you more than comfort.

Today I have been the quirky girl
In the tea room with a friend;
Drinking fancy coffee and nibbling on cake.
I love you more than companionship.

I write poetry as introspection,
Reflecting on my miserable soul.
The rain races down the window, and
I love you more than language.

My darling, life means nothing to me.
It is fleeting and meaningless;
A futile endeavour.
Yet you are the reason I am still here.

I love you more than life itself.

I think I love you the most
When you are drunk
And a little sad
And hurting.

I think I love you the most
When you giggle more
And tease me slightly
To show but hide that you're not okay.

I think I love you the most
When you're wearing that adorable
Big grin
That just makes me want to kiss you.

I think I love you the most
When you don't,
Not even sarcastically,
Order me to leave.

I think I love you the most
When you don't bully me
Or glare at me
Or tell me to shut up.

I think I love you the most
When you're just sweet you
And you tell me things
And stories about everything.

I think I love you the most
When you're angry at yourself
Because you mean the things you say.
Wonderful.

I think I love you the most
When you're slightly drunk
And instead of letting me leave
You pull me down next to you.

I think I love you the most
When you don't wrap your arm around me
Because that would be cheating
But you let me stay close.

I think I loved you the most,
More than I ever will again,
Last week.

I was drunk,
And I told you I love you.
When I was sober,
You asked if I meant it.

I said no.

You said you were bad
For me. I disagreed, but
Today is too much.

I want someone to
Roll over and ****. I want
You, here, holding me.

Palimpsest
is a word that means
reused or altered
but still bearing visible traces
of its earlier form.

I think that that is
a good metaphor
for me
after you left me.

Feminists will disagree
(you haven't been used;
people can't be used up.
You're not a quota).
But I was after you left me

Because
you changed me
so completely
that even my music taste
tastes of you

Despite me now
being used
differently (better)
by someone else.

Flowers are falling
From the sky today. I sit
On a cloud, wave 'bye.

I am so sorry
For ever worrying you.
Please, come back to me.

It's always me who
Makes the effort but to hear
From you makes my life.

A Public Service Announcement

1. You move to the country.
2. You're very skittish.
3. You're terribly embarrassed when someone mentions their name.
4. "Oh no, we're just friends."
5. Well... You just know.

A True and Historical Account
Oh, oh, oh,
Don't stop don't stop
Oh!

For Your Health
Never become attached to anyone and stay far, far away.
Then you will never need to know.

An Interview*
"How did you know, Madam?"
"I didn't, he just...proposed!"

He just...fits.

I fall. I text you.
I call. I miss you. I miss,
"I won't let you die."

Did you know that your eyes are flecked with gold?
Well, they are.
Yeah, they’re mostly blue, but there’s definitely gold round the edges.
Go look in the mirror then.
Don’t be stupid, eyes can’t be pink.
Uh huh.
You’re an idiot.
Gold is warm and rich and deep.
Why do I like your eyes? Because they like to lie to me. Ca m’amuse.
Yes.
I think you lie to me all the time.
No.
Because you lie to yourself too.

I am dirt I am
Dust I am earth and soil and
Worthlessness. Nothing.

I knock on your door.
Lean back against the wall.
Wait.

You answer.
Smile.
Hi.

You hold the door,
Let me walk past you.
But before it swings shut

I am pressed against the wall
And your lips are everywhere.
My legs around your hips

You kiss me
Down my neck
Over the mark he left.

Mine.
Yours.
Forever.

And I can see stars
In your eyes
Ad infinitum.

And I can see scars
On your arms
Bleeding.

And you lean back slightly
Breathless
And our horizons meet

As the sky splits open.
Together
But not forever.

Lights over Dundee
Will no longer be ours
And far-flung dreams

Like this one
Will never happen.
Skinny love;

I've been calling for months now
And you never left any messages.
You've got some kind of nerve
Taking me now.

Man. Chair. Pink.
Listen, listen.
I have something to say -
No, wait, it's gone.

Out the window, like my mind.
Red scarf, blue hat,
Don't match.
Sad.

There's a crazy girl in the
corner, lining up straws.
Ha! Not crazy, ketchup crazy.
Ha! That's me.

The hardest thing
To put into words is
How you're feeling
When you don't know
How you're feeling.

You call me up again
Just to sing some lyrics.
You hang up
And I'm left hanging.
I don't know what to do.

I don't know what to say.
You're hurting bad, again,
And I don't know why.
Worse, I don't know
What you want me to do.

So I'm panicking because
There's a guy who really, really likes me
And he wants to make me happy
And what do I do with a boyfriend?
All I know is how to hurt people.

And here we are again
In the middle of the night.
You're asking,
"Would you drop him if I asked you to?"
And of course I would.

****.
Just ask.
Go ahead and ask.
Tell me what to do.
I don't have a clue right now.

But instead, this time
I say,
"*******.
"Quit using me."
And you say, "Thanks. Bye."

That's not what I want -
Oh God.
It hurts more when you're not here;
It hurts more than when you treat me like ****.
I don't know how to be without you.

So I go to his house
And as I kiss him
I think
What would happen if
I told him I love you?

Because I do, you know.
I told you I didn't
But I regret it.
Would telling you that
Fix this?

I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

So much
So very much
So very very much
Oh yes
Oh yes

If someone told me
You would leave just like that, I'd
Probably punch them.

Remember all you
Have learned. Listen to me. I
Will always know more.

It's been a while but
I still feel the same. My blood
Is drowning in you.

Hey.
Don't mind me.
I just wanted to tell you
That it takes everything in me
Not to call you.
Nothing important.
I just wanted to ask,
Please forgive me
When I bump into you
And can't resist sending you something.
Please don't ever reply.
Because we were such a mess;
I'm much happier this way.
But yet, in my dreams,
Your face is buried in the crook of my neck
And you're asking me
If I want to try again with you.
And there is a sliver of meat in my heart
That beats for you;
That longs for me just to press 'call'
And it really does take all of my energy
To call him instead.

(Because I hope you know that,
If you're wishing I'd pop up on your screen,
If you're almost calling me,
I'm almost calling you, too.

But you're probably not.
So don't ever reply to me.
Don't you dare.)

Every time the phone rings
These days, anyway, I hope
It's not him, but you.

I thought you didn't
Want to talk because you're busy.
You don't want to talk.

Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.

You will never be lovelier than you are now,
Here, in my arms,
Asleep.

I watch your eyelids flutter.
I hope that you are dreaming
Of us

In a different world,
Where we could be happy.
Together.

And I hold you,
Abhorring the knowledge that
tomorrow

We will never be this way again.

Someday
I will be able to drive past
Dunfermline
Glasgow
Sheffield
Without remembering you.
They will just be,
Once again,
Places on a map
To which I have no connection.

Not that I have any
Tangible connection
To them now,
Of course.
It's just you.
Not that I have any
Tangible connection
To you either,
I suppose.

What a pity.

And maybe someday
I will be able to come home
Without hurting that
I am no longer coming home to you.
However much I wish
That weren't true.

It is five to midnight
And by this time
On any given day
This time last year
I would have a text from you
Asking to share the evening
Over a movie.

And today I saw you
And looked you in the eye
For the first time in a while
And I asked you to text me when you're back
Like you used to
Because once upon a time

I was the first person you would text.
I was the one who knew where you were;
How you were;
Who you were.
And you looked at me
And I looked at you

And our hug was so empty.
There was no squeeze;
No head against my shoulder
And maybe it was because my friend was there,
Or maybe it's because you've forgotten
That I used to be number one on speed dial.

"Of course I won't forget you."
Yet here we are
And I looked at you
And you looked at me
With your pool blue eyes
And hands that used to play me like a violin

And I didn't ache for you.
I ached for a year ago;
For things that should have been but never were
But I managed to plough on through
And think that what I have now
Is almost as good.
Text me, sometime, darling.

Hello, love.
Here we are again
At the end of a page,
End of an era.
The minutes are flying by now,
Being eaten as the crow flies.
I don't want to go.
But I must.
I miss you.
I love you.
Look at all the things that should have been
But never were.
I miss you.
I love you.
Goodbye, love.

I wish I still had
Our texts from last year so I'd
Have proof you loved me.

Why am I so hard -
So *******, ****, difficult -
Why don't you love me?

I've always loathed the
Outward pretence that you don't
Give two ***** for me.

Is it so wrong
To wonder why you?
To wonder why you had to
Appear in my life
At that moment
In that place
At that stage in my life.

When everything was going wrong
And I was somewhere I didn’t want to be
With people I didn’t know
And you decided to be there for me.

Is it so wrong
To wish it hadn’t been you?
To wish someone else
Had turned up
And whisked me away
And made me feel special
In a way that you never have.

To compliment me properly,
Saying how beautiful I look in that dress
Not an awkward comment on my hair,
Not a ‘there’s nothing wrong with you.’

Is it so wrong
To dream
That we
Never
Ever
Even
Met?

Two and a half years.
Two whole years, and you still won't
Tell me you love me.

My memories have
A tendency to be vague.
I remember Chris.

One
You lie, lie, lie.
You hide your secrets in your eyes
For all the world to see.
You imagine I am home,
In my room, all alone.
The roses drop to the floor.
You’d forgotten I hate the thorns.

Two
And Peter shouted at Joanna,
“You don’t know what it’s like!
You don’t know what it’s like
To have scars all down your chest
To be on your bike half way across the Tay Bridge
At midnight
You don’t know you don’t know you will never know.”
And Joanna stood, and she stayed,
And she followed him out of the house to the restaurant
And she showed him she knew
And still he never came back.

Three
“This is the last time I’m asking you.
Come out of there.”
You’re hiding at the back of the wardrobe again.
Maybe they won’t see you.
Pretend they can’t see you.

Four
You say you’re sorry.
You can pull that face out of the bag exactly when you need it.
And you cheated John again
But that face means you’re lying.
You lie, lie, lie.
And John never ******* does anything.

Five**
And Rose walks out of the Med School
Wearing that pretty dress you bought her.
She’s crying to herself.
The noble thing to do would be to ignore it
But instead I walk up to you;
Call you out on that *******.
“Hurt her again; you hurt me.
And heaven knows you’ve done enough of that.”

You always say to
Message you
When I need to.
Well, I needed you tonight.
And you replied, alright.
I wanted a fight
And you let me down again.
You didn't understand my pain;
Just told me to learn; that's the main
Thing.

I often repost
Poetry tagged ****. He thinks
It's for him. Foolish.

The only person
I want to talk about
You to is you. ****.

I wished you loved me.
A wish can't be granted if
It's already true.

You reinforce my bad behaviour
With, "You're so pretty,"
And, "I care about you,"
And, "You can always talk to me."
Does it need saying?
*******.
The fact is I don't need you
I just need someone
And that someone always ends up
Being you.
Though it's obvious I'm nothing to you;
Last on your list.
You have so many girls
You could start a band.
And your lies give me a headache
Because after all this time
I'm still the naive little girl
Who loved next to you.
And I thought that wouldn't change
But it did, of course it did,
And every time I get you back
You leave again.
But that disappears
When you're stood in front of me
Telling me how precious I am.
You know no one else says that to me.
Maybe you shouldn't.
This is why I fell for you, you know.
You were the first person to pay me any attention
And the fact is now I could go weeks without you
But I choose not to
Because there's a tiny part of my brain that says,
"He loves you, a little."
And then something like this happens
And I really do need you
Because you were there when this happened
The first time.
You used to understand.
And I will be forever disappointed
That you don't any more.

Trying not to feel
Like **** because you text her
First and not me. 'Ex.'

I want a place where
I am loved and I'm no longer
The world's disappointment.

Don't save his sweet texts.
Don't read them when you miss him.
Don't claw back to him.

Relationships are
Mere blemishes on the skin
Of time. Nothing more.

You

You told me you loved me by
Begging me to stop
Begging me to break up with him
Begging me to look after myself
Begging me not to **** myself
Three texts in ten minutes if I didn't reply
Begging me to reply
Watching Doctor Who with me
Getting drunk with me and letting me kiss you
But harassing me about it the next day.
Your I love you was implicit and beautiful
And all without the use of those startling words.

Him

He tells me he loves me by
Telling me not to stop
Putting his arm around me when someone looks at me funny
Kissing the back of my neck when my shoulders hurt
Telling me that he'd be devastated if I killed myself
Not texting me because I'll see him later anyway
Not minding if I don't reply because who cares?
Watching The Hobbit with me
Not drinking but kissing anyway
And kissing and kissing and kissing.
His I love you is explicit and beautiful
And a drunken confession burst on his lips.

You and Him*

Both of you
Tell me you miss me
Tell me you care about me
Tell me I can talk to you
Worry about me
Act evasive
Let me stay at yours when I'm upset
Sit up with me until we can fall asleep
Even when that time is 5am.
And yet somehow
I only believe him.