In your little book
Of every fairytale
I am the sour witch

Thinking of you
Is reminiscent of
A rusting silver blade
Digging it’s tip
In the core of my soul

And that one ******* song
we sang to each other
plays it’s sweet melody
constantly
in the back of my thoughts
an endless loop

I told you once
I feel all your pain
and each little sting
of the tack on your wrist
sends a shiver
up my worn spine

I wish you had listened.

There’s this secret desperation
hidden in the crevice of my soul
for you to be here
with me
a comfort to keep
in the denim of my pocket

and when I come home weary
from that loud
obnoxious party
I want your embrace
the slow rising and falling
of your chest to hold me
your scent
to linger on my little black dress
your hands to rub
in small measured circles
the ***** of my worn down feet

and when it pours
the downpour thrashing
against the glass of my window
I want your presence
beside me in the antique chair
the silence
broken only by the turning
pages of our favourite books
and stolen glances
over steaming cups of tea

and when I’m crying
looking into
the dusty mirror
and wondering why
I was born with such features
picking at the flaws
I want your consoling voice
telling me I am ok
the way I am
your steady arm
helping me to my feet
and your soft fingers
brushing away the salty water
stinging at my lids

But for today I am alone
and my feet are worn
and your tea is left
to cool
and my tears
abide to flow
but my pocket remains
filled with secret thoughts
a vision of you

I'm trying so
hard to forget you
I really am
but it's especially
difficult when
your lips are
so close
and so soft
and I want
so much for them
to be pressed
against mine

I think if there is a god
He must make mistakes
Because there no way
I am meant to be
This lost

And I think I wasted
Too much energy
Pretending I love him
Because when I knelt in the chapel
My mouth spoke
"Amen"
But my mind
Thought nothing

And sometimes I think
That god is a metaphor
For the daydreams
We all have
But never really speak of
Because this world is a prison
And we're already in hell

None of this is to say
Of course
That if you died
I would not go back
To my lifeless "amen"

Because I need to believe
That you are watching over me
And not a lifeless corpse
Cold in the ground

I know I'm a coward.

I still feel a warmth
from time to time
where your soft sweet lips
pressed gently on neck

and you told me yesterday
you were giving up
and your eyes shone brightly
a twinkle of excitement
like giving up wasn't stopping
it was moving forward

and sometimes I wonder
if I held you tightly
you'd forget about the pain
of those sad nights
the flashlight blaring down
and the darkness
of your secret thoughts

but for now I'm stuck
with the memories of your kiss
and the ghost of your silhouette
in the cold sleepy stairwell

it's fascinating
that kids who grew up sheltered
are the most broken

I lie on my bed
and let the mattress
envelope my body
soft and warm
protecting me from harm

I can't help thinking of you
and how late in the night
you'd hold me close
and as I cried softly in to your shoulder
you whispered sweet nothings
in to my ear
the world a simple illusion
and your presence
the only truth I knew

The song you sang me
plays loudly in the corner
and as I cry in to my pillow
I can't help wishing it was you here
muscle and bones
not fabric and feathers
that comfort me softly

The night falls slowly
and my tears cease to shed
but the hole in my heart
bigger than the mattress
I use as your substitute
taunts me with regret

I found true happiness
When I looked in the mirror
And did not see a flawless face
But instead a face so flawed
It could only bear a joyful soul

Sometime around when we were sixteen
I fell from the roof
As we sat there together
The thump of my crashing body
Loud enough to wake your whole street
And yet there was no alarm
The Witching Hour.

You slid down slowly
From the roof where we visit
And held my head on your thighs
as I curled in to a protective ball
And stroked my hair
As I sobbed in to the night

You lifted me
Oh so gingerly
Up to your room
On to your bed
And cleaned my injured skin
And hugged me as cleared
My tearful eyes

I fell asleep that night
Your warm breath on neck
Blowing away my insecurities
The bandage you wove
Across my scratches and bruises
Ensures I am alright
Your strong hand on my side
Ensures you won't let harm come ever again
Our promise

I look back on the night
When we were just sixteen
And I remember no pain
Just your strong hand
And your warm breath
And I know I am safe.

There is no **** way
I am going to lose her
I'll have to be strong

"Why don't you say you love me?"

Love
The word gets thrown around
Like any other

"I love this movie"
"I love your dress"
"I'd love to come over"

There's no meaning
No aggression or passion
No want or desire

Love is merely a lie
A word meant to please
A word designed
To be used without meaning.

"Because I don't love you"
I respect you
I yearn for you
I need you.

Please **** me quickly
So I never feel guilty
For killing myself

My dull, foolish brain
Can't stop imagining you
Holding me tightly

There's this song
It comes on the radio every so often
and I can't stop thinking of you

It shouldn't
I know that

A song is merely a grouping of notes
formed together to create a chord
glued together with words

but this particular
pattern of notes
gives me shivers each time

I don't know how
a simple melody
can bring someone to tears

But then again
It must be the same
when it comes to a grouping
of bones and blood

It feels as if
I have to grab your shoulders
and shake you senseless
for you to truly understand
how much I love you

it's a lot.

"how are you?"
"fine."

It's routine
you and I

Sometimes I wonder
who you'd react
if I told you the truth

"how are you?"

I want to tell you everything.
I can't stand life anymore
I'm depressed
I'm confused
I'm upset
I'm alone
but never the less

"fine."

I don't think you want to know, really.
you don't really care, do you?
you never will

I think I'll find someone else
maybe he'll care

maybe he'll listen to me
instead of a simple nod
and hug me tightly
when I cry
or stroke my hair
and help me
instead walking away
and leaving me abandoned

"how are you?"
"I don't know."

It's a start.

I saw a program on the telly once
it was about a little girl
my age, I think
or less
she had lost her mum
and right when she was about to find her
the power had shut off
and the telly went dark

I went to find my own mum
I wanted to tell her
about the ******* the telly
but her and daddy were having another row
so I left them alone

I sat in my room instead
with the candle mum had given me
"for emergencies" she said
it was the third time I used it this week

the house was cold
it got like that a lot
when the telly goes dark
and it gets colder when the door swings open
and bangs shut again on it's way closed

she's sitting in bed
my mum is
and she's crying
she says daddy left
like the power on the telly

we moved to an apartment yesterday
mum said it was an adventure
but I have to sleep in the same bed as her
I don't like it much

we sold the telly today
I guess I'll never know
what happened to that little girl
and her lost mum

I wish you would touch me

But not all at once
not aggressively
like you see sometimes in the movies
they go so quickly
that only seems uncomfortable
don't you agree?

I want to be touched subtly

I want you to stroke my hair
and call me dear
I want you to wrap your arms around me
tightly when I'm cold
I want you to move your fingers
in slow circles across my knee
I want you to draw on my back
to show that you're there
and to wrap my fingers in yours
as our arms gently press
and if you like
you could gently sweep your lips
against mine

A touch means so more
than how they portray it in movies
so touch me gently
please

There's a cute little bridge
that crosses a pond
on the other side of town

I don't know when it was made
but the wood is rotten and old
with green mold growing out of each crevice
and the rope barely holds
I feel like it could snap at my slightest touch

I sit on the bridge anyway
and I let my feet plunge in to the tepid water
they make little waves as I slowly twirl my toes
I don't think the fish like it
so I stop

One time I brought a book to the bridge
my friend had lent it to me
it was a love story
he knows they're my favourite
but I dropped it in the water
and it sunk to the bottom
it made me cry

I come to the bridge a lot
to look at the little fish that swim at the surface
I bring them bread
and I watch them take little nibbles
I bet that bread will last them a long time

It started getting cold so I brought my coat
to the bridge today
the water was still
and I looked over the rope
I could see the book
that I dropped last year
it made me think of my friend

I miss him

When I was a little girl
I had a best friend
and her and I
we would bathe together

and we thought about the bubbles
that drifted effortlessly from the surface of the water

and we thought about the warmth
of the water that surrounded us

and we thought about how easily
we could float from one side of the bath to another

and never in a million years did it occur to us
that we were both naked

and it never crossed our minds
how vulnerable we were to each other
or to the world

I think about my best friend sometimes
she's married now
her wife is really beautiful
she sent me a photo

I wonder if she ever thought of me
the way she thinks of her wife
when we bathed together

probably not

We're in my room eating popcorn
and it's burnt because I never set the timer right
and we're watching a film
I promised myself I wouldn't cry
because I'm an ugly crier
but you don't mind
and you're stroking my hair
and my hand is on your chest
I'm wearing your sweatshirt
the one I stole from your closet
when I was cold
and we're holding hands in the pocket
and the movie's over
but we're still staring at the screen
and I look up at you
and you wipe the tears away from my eyes
and without batting an eye you lean in
and we kiss
I wish I never had to move

but now you're gone