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OliviaAutumn Oct 2014
She was the bottle that said "drink me"
And lifting up her dress I did just that.
OliviaAutumn Dec 2014
The girl never believed in science.
When asked why apples fall
She answered darling, even apples fall in love.
So she baked an apple pie to make her feel grounded, rooted;
She wanted to be consumed like the sea engulfs the mountain in a storm,
Like a core is mounted by those thirsty for the taste of something left unwholly , vulnerability caressing the bitterness left by someone else's lips, traces of time browning their soft edges.

The girl used to lie outstretched on hilltops each night to watch the moon sweep away the stars each morning so the sun could still shine.
If she shut her eyes and opened her mind
She could hear the moon waning "she'll never be mine"
for the sky is a canvas of desire, a constellation of lust that looks different to every lover.
Their wish is the same regardless of the star: that gravity will soon become the real reason their hearts begin to sink each time they see her hand in another's.
every day the girl shuts her eyes to talk to the sky as if she still believes that's where God lives, as if that is where hope is, and whilst shes on her knees her lovers kiss rises amidst the heat of another girls thighs, synchronising moans as if she has finally found one to call home.
maybe she has, but now the girl can't help but think she may drown in this ocean that is empty without its pull to the crash, that her stolen heart is now her lovers buried treasure, buried so deep that shes forgotten she even had it at all.

The girl sits at the windows pane knowing why it got its name hoping she will some day navigate her way to the only star she sees, the only name she breathes.
If only leaves remembered where they fell from.
If only gravity was the reason she fell.
This was written out of my fear of losing someone. Sometimes fear is more powerful than experience,  more real than reality.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2014
The first time I went down on a girl she had the delicate flavour of bergamot.
I was so addicted to her I could brew in her imperfections,
dream of sugar mice in her navel.
she had given me the most dangerous sweet tooth for the freckle on her forehead and her bergamot scented bed.

Tracing the crack on the right hand corner of my mouth
I left her kiss behind, a ***** secret
fading like the silhouette of a flower at sunset,
darkness closing in around my naked body
that was a canvas I refused to believe was still art.

The second time I learnt not to stay too long,
to leave my socks on
to escape out that 4 minute exit  window
so I don’t infuse my heart in this metaphor we call love
I wasn’t strong enough for this weight
upon my shoulders to remain
the perfect convent school girl I was taught to be

so I begun to shrink my body
to fit in the comfort of a waistcoat pocket
amongst demin in a closed closet.
People begun to notice the cage I kept my heart in was growing bigger,
or I was growing smaller,
trying to break free from beneath my skin,
stretching it thin so you can trace the lines
I’d learnt to repeat: do not eat. Do not eat.
Do not let anyone in.
Do not let anything in.
There is nothing worse than letting someone see what you look like on the inside

you cannot make love disappear on command
like you can with a one night stand,
you cannot control sexuality like you can control your calorie intake,
restrict your appetite for more of her taste, give yourself space,
shrink yourself to give yourself more space to waste
and keep looking for love in all the wrong places
as one day your prince will come.

Keep looking
In the company of men, in the bottom of a bottle
blur your eyes so you can no longer recognise
who it is who lies beside you
who that person is in the looking glass,
there is no reflection in the mirror when you
starve yourself thinner and thinner
become the skeleton in your closet
to hang the girl they condemn and call a sinner
but a different kind of hourglass will count
down to 6, not the size, but how many feet
you will be in the ground.
When they open the closet door,
Your bones will no longer be there to be found..

No one tells you can’t read love like the fairy tales beneath your bed.
that your prince may wear a dress and listen to Nirvana,
the heart has no pronoun for a reason
love is not an etchasketch you can shake to change,
it is a kaleidoscope of every colour of the rainbow
with hundreds of different variations
an each one is beautiful

The sixth time I went down on a girl I told her I couldn’t stay long.
That I had to wash my hair, purge myself of her sweet touch.she held out her hand l
like a compass pointing north to home
and said every person has their own northern star
even stars fall.
No one asks them who they are falling for.
Instead we hold out our hands to catch them
And say come as you are.
spoken poetry
OliviaAutumn Feb 2015
Open my pages
Read me back to front.
Pretend that you know me
Then call me a ****.
OliviaAutumn Feb 2015
I spent my nights reading books in our greatest libraries
Searching for what it is I am still clinging on to,
Then after the final vowel I realised
The one thing I miss about you, is you.
OliviaAutumn May 2015
You ask me to ***** in a light bulb
as if I'm planting seeds to let us grow
but rather than gardens and trees
it's light you want until you leave.
OliviaAutumn Oct 2015
The butterfly catchers net sat silently on a bed of frost,
Crisp catches of colour reflecting the Spring sun,
Lines of emerald to grace the walls of a London home.
Like dreams they lay still, an untouched memory.
An easy ****, gently executed and put to rest
To be remembered in the evening light
On a gentleman's windowsill.
Feminists keep fighting the butterfly catcher
OliviaAutumn Feb 2015
Candy canes made her lips wet, sweetened with the thought of trips to the seaside and her pleasure in pain
OliviaAutumn Sep 2014
My body is a canvas
And you are the artist,
Making art in the night
And that's how it started.
So paint me our future
With brushes of scarlet.
And hang it on the wall
For the days we have parted.
OliviaAutumn Feb 2015
She told me I was her favourite cologne,
The kind you wear on special occasions.
Soon my glass began to wear thin
And I realised, you cannot own what I have from within.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2015
I traced the crack in her smile
And spent the rest of my life trying to find ways
To fill her with laughter, love and fumbles beneath
Freshly washed sheets.
OliviaAutumn Mar 2015
I left my heart in the top pocket of her denim jacket,
The sickly sweet sugar of her bubblegum rubbing off on it
Making it less heavy, making it beat steady
And each time I saw denim in my mirrored reflection
I wondered if she stole my heart to keep as her confection.
OliviaAutumn Nov 2014
When she bent over to plant a kiss on parted lips
Her red hair fell and rested on my hips,
And as I prayed this moment would never stop
She whispered, "darling, I am the cherry on top".
OliviaAutumn May 2015
The dolls house was an escape exist masquerading as child's play,
Emerald curtains open for all the neighbours to see.
Gentle, delicate, Miss China lays the table rather than in bed,
Spreads the table cloth rather than her legs.
The tea set lies daintily on the table for when he comes home
When her mother plants him a kiss in the garden to grow.
And watching the car park on the fading lawn
She wonders if window panes feel happiness at all.
OliviaAutumn Jan 2015
I put on my dress and smooth the creases under my eyes.
It just falls right, falls right on the curves of my hips
And hides the shadows between this rib caged heart.
For that moment, it reminds me less of myself
And more of you.
OliviaAutumn Jan 2015
There are empty pages that yearn for ink describing her loving caress.
There are empty beds that beg for the arch of her lower back.
I know which one I would rather fill.
OliviaAutumn Mar 2015
She was the kind of girl you want to wake up next to
With the marmalade lips you always longed to find.
Instead you would fill the silhouette of her body,
Engraved on the empty space she left behind
With the words to be continued
Left in ink and unsigned.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2014
There are 1,013,913 words in the English language, and not one of them describes how I feel about you, about us.

Maybe its because I lost my words when I first kissed you, when I placed my kiss on them strawberry preserve lips so in the future when you asked me,  ‘hunny, where is the last place you saw them?’ I could answer –‘in you’

But I’ll pretend, I’ll play dumb, and search for them like I never knew the universe lived beneath your tongue, as I never want to find them words in case in finding them I misplace you.

And I never want to lose you. To find you in my box of lost and found on a Sunday afternoon amongst tattered dictionaries that are filled with love poems I can no longer speak.
Full of pronouns that hide bener dust which you make angels in, changing he to she, him to her, spreading your arms to chase the rabbits that jump out from these open sheets.
And seeing you lying there, I am both lost and found, no longer bound by the binding of those before you. All I can say is ‘ darling, the Greeks didn’t see you coming’.
There are not enough letters in the alphabet to write this love poem. To assemble a word that describes the way you smile at me, like how the moon draws pictures of the shore, or the way mountains bend to kiss the clouds.

You leave me speechless.
Its hard to believe, but its true.
Sometimes we forget to listen to that pivotal silence that the orchestra plays. Composed in exquisite harmony to ****** suspense through an empty script, in a pause, a breath; an instrumental craftsmanship that maneuvers you through that moment where you enter the protagonists’ kiss.

That’s how I feel about you. About us.
There are 1,013,913 words in the English language, and only one of them stands out to me: you.
spoken poetry
OliviaAutumn Sep 2015
This was a place I used to call home,
Now it is just a building with no name,
No touch of endearment on the doormat,
No letters of love but maybe they are lost in the post -
A name is just a word
But I have never heard my footsteps walk
These halls with an echo following
Like another ghost woven into the tapestries
Hanging on the walls,
Old photographs of memories that time
Turned into black and white,
The colours of an old life lost and forgotten
In this empty abyss the world has left behind.
My fingers trace the smile of a young girl
That I believe I used to be,
Innocence untouched by the man
She would fight to unsee.
This used to be home
And now my body is just a shell
I long to crack under my feet,
Feel the bough break
And look at the damage underneath
A disordered house is a disordered mind
But people don't see the fight thats inside
These walls that are shrinking to make me less space
So I can go to bed knowing, there is less I can waste.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2015
She was a girl no one could understand.
Her body was her voice
And she was screaming for someone to hear
The unwept tears that were caged by that night,
When she learnt stillness after the storm
Was the earths brave face mourning
What was lost in the fight.
OliviaAutumn May 2015
There is no such thing as a goodbye.
Nothing was good about the way her eyes changed colour,
How the street was drained into a black and white portrait
Capturing this one moment in time where she bit her lip
To remind her she was still alive
And turning her back she knew
That she'd never forget the promises she signed,
The ones she kept in her coat pocket
And the ones she left behind.
OliviaAutumn Oct 2014
If only she heard the water falling from my eyes
She would realise I am no longer alive.
If only she knew her kiss planted between open hips
Will wither away in this dark abyss.
If only I asked him to loosen his grip
Then maybe I could breathe without
OliviaAutumn Feb 2015
You broke my heart
And still I gave a piece of it to you freely,
Leaving me like a jigsaw puzzle
No one could ever truly complete.
OliviaAutumn May 2015
Petals drifted through our garden, and rested on her toes.
Sprigs of rosemary waltzed in the wind
and time captured the orange peel of her hair with perfection, a memory kept hidden in the pocket of my jeans.
The air had embraced indigo violets,
their scent imprinted on the collar of the breeze.
I get to my knees and hold the stalk of a forget-me-not,
And whisper she loves me,
She loves me not.
OliviaAutumn May 2015
you tell me to let go-
you were my ocean
you were my storm.
to let go will surely drown me
so forgive me, I can't move on.
OliviaAutumn Nov 2014
She wasn't the kind of girl to wear lipstick or paint the town red.
She would ask me to kiss her and bite her lip instead.
OliviaAutumn Jan 2015
Alice sits beside the looking glass and touches her reflection
Breaking down beside the girl she cannot see is perfection.
OliviaAutumn Mar 2015
She saw a poster on the tree down the road
The sort left for years, forgotten and alone
And holding her tears she tore down the face
That was no longer lost, for it was her own.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2014
Whispers and rings
you promise to bring,
that is what our love is made of.
Whips and wails
and back scratching nails,
that is what our lust is made of.
OliviaAutumn Jan 2015
I don't want to be her background noise
Or the star she forgets to wish upon at night.
I don't want to be the frayed photograph
Left in draws to fad, left out of sight.
I will never be more than what I am
And what I fear is that is never enough.
OliviaAutumn Nov 2014
She was an ordinary girl.
Plaits beside a waistline she drew on with ribbon,
Fastening her thoughts she'd sworn to keep hidden.

Behind closed doors she would loosen the noose
Man ******* before her,
And bind up her lover
The milkman's daughter.
OliviaAutumn Feb 2015
My heart is a broken mirror.
You smashed it when I first saw your smile
And I cling on to the pieces
Hoping my bad luck will never run out.
OliviaAutumn Oct 2015
She would tell me on amber evenings beneath the waiting sky
That she was my only moon, orbiting my edges
Like a well orchestrated love song,
Suspense in desiring to touch what she could only see.
She may be able to eclipse all light,
Be the only thing I long for at night
But there are others out there
Who will fill this space between us,
And in her face it shows
That each night is closer to her last.
OliviaAutumn Nov 2014
There are times when I see her face in the moon,
And every time I see her there, I know she loves me too.
OliviaAutumn Jan 2015
You have stolen the one thing I thought I never had left to give,
And the funny thing is it was yours to begin with.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2014
We chased storms along decks of love notes,
Capturing the exhales of midnight sighs.
She painted my chest of hidden treasures
With lips kept prisoner by the tides.
We were a beautifully crafted shipwreck,
navigating our bodies to collide
and it sinks my heart to see her
sailing alone,
my pirate wife.
just a bit of a draft
OliviaAutumn Feb 2015
You have no right to take away my foundations
And tell me to walk the plank of wood beneath my feet.
OliviaAutumn Mar 2015
I want to wrap you up in yesterdays news like fish and chips,
Spending late nights tangled up in seaweed
On a shore that will never be the same
As tomorrow or the one before.
OliviaAutumn Nov 2014
Her lover told her, "I am organic".
She peeled off her skin and saw her bare
And lying there she pressed into her
Like flowers left under books
Forgotten, fleeting moments
Captured in time.
OliviaAutumn Jan 2015
These scars are brush strokes of another girls despair.
She spent Summer nights drawing lines between myself and her,
The warmth on her back the only memory left in a cardboard box of misery;
It reminded her she was alive,
A reminder she longed to delete in a shrinking phonebook that breathed out numbers to balance her life.
Lost and found in a pound of broken daydreams.
Each time I catch someones stare I remember her fractured smile,
The only tie I have left that I cannot cut.
OliviaAutumn Jan 2015
She stood next to me in knickers and a t-shirt,
Needle and thread in hand with a grin between her legs.
"I will unstitch your heart" she said,
"And wear it on my sleeve so you never feel hurt again".
OliviaAutumn Aug 2015
"Don't give me your heart,
Give me your time.
Your fingers know my body like clockwork;
A heart can't turn back time at midnight
With the sole purpose of re-winding each moment
So that I can hear the chimes inside my chest that sing for you.
What use is a heart darling, when I can give you a ring?"
OliviaAutumn Sep 2014
Scientists estimate that you will fall in love seven times before you get married.
That 42% of these marriages will end in divorce.
That lesbians get their sexuality from their fathers inability to
Maintain a platonic relationship with a woman
Pram pushing into bedrooms whilst our mothers clean
With wine stained pinafores and nicotine laced lips.
They remove their motherhood camise
And hang it on the banister one day after school,
Her fatal attraction to the bottle and mine to the silk touch of a woman’s fabric being the perfect childhood cliché for a
chronic homosexual.

My mothers is still there like a scare crow to heterosexuality,
warning off all my seven deadly loves that could have come from man but now come from the caress of a woman’s cheek but still,
I am afraid of wearing my heart on my sleeve
In case I shrink it in the wash so I place it in my rib cage
Captive to the beat of my own heart grieving.

You are my second love and according to science
I am therefore chasing something that cannot be caught,
Something that has an expiry date before I can even co-create this thing called love  

So when I sip seduction from your navel,
When I unwrap you like the present at Christmas I never got,
Untying the ribbon as I undo your jeans,
Just know the only I do I will say is when you ask me if I think you look pretty.
Or if I want a brew when we are lying in bed puffing smoke rings
Around our impending sighs that float over us like rainclouds,
Drips of fate falling from these skies dampening my desire.

So forgive me if the only aisle I will see you up is the biscuit aisle, Pulling the fabric of my non-wedding dress around my slipping tights.
Forgive me if I trade in the sweat on your neck
For the salt side of a tequila
As sometimes I like to use the wool from over my eyes to knit me telescope so I can look at the stars between your thighs,
But what no one ever tells you is that when you wish upon a star,
That star has surely died.
Because I want to fall in and out of love 7 times.
Correction: I want to fall in and out of love with you 7 times.
I want to press you, not in a book, but against me.
Imprint the lines of your fingertips on my ******* like maps of Atlantis because I want to go places with you I never knew existed.
I want your nails engraved on my back like constellations of stars
So I can always find my way back to now. To then.
The present. The past. That very moment where Greenwich meantime got it wrong:
Those seconds were longer than any before,
And my life has been full of seconds.
Second child. Second best. Second chances. Second love.
The third the forth, the fifth the sixth but the 7th, the 7th time you tell me is no longer reserved for you.

You tell me the 7th time is for me to fall inexplicably, uncontrollably in love with myself.
So when I walk myself up a different kind of aisle I can do it with you by my side.
And I’ll stand there, lifting the veil from over my eyes and I will tell you, Darling, second love, science is colourblind.
It doesn’t see the colours of the rainbow like I do.

Because yes, I do.
spoken poetry
OliviaAutumn Jan 2015
Her body was a shell drawn up from the sea.
If you put your ear to her heart
You'd hear a thousand pieces rattle,
A broken orchestra that longed to be free.
Sometimes we can feel broken. The thing is too often I break myself.
OliviaAutumn Oct 2014
Will you be there when the sun paints a canvas of green?
Envelopes of colour closing in around my body,
A forgotten art form.A broken sculpture.
Wrap me up in a blanket of cellophane
And eat me like an evergreen bathes in gold.
Your seasonal fruit between bitten lips red
But when the leaves envy dances into passion
I wonder if we will be there to see it change.
OliviaAutumn May 2015
There is something to be said about the silence that navigated
Our second to last kiss as if it was searching for someone to blame;
It's the same as realising that when you asked for space
I foolishly gave you enough galaxies so you could always find a place to shine.
But now, in this moment where I am inches away from reaching for your hand

I understand why the earth circles the sun-
Celestial longing clinging on to the rope that this swing is swung
I hold out my arms to the space where you no longer belong,
With lips laced with goodbyes and the taste of your tongue.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2014
Do not run from the sun, the bluebird said,
Your feet will unravel, leaving nothing but thread.

Then lend me your wings , she said in reply,
And we'll fly to a place where the shadows don't lie.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2014
Interlocking fingers
Candyfloss tongue
Sea salt lips
Water in my lungs
Holding my breath
To sink inside
Her love comes and goes
Like the love of the tide.
OliviaAutumn Sep 2014
Turn me over like your favourite novel.
Run your fingers along my spine.
Bite your lip at your favourite parts
Then read between my lines.
OliviaAutumn Apr 2015
It wasn't my place to tell you;
I've been sinking ships since I can remember,
Each home washed up on someone else's shore.
This was before you wrapped me a lifeboat
And said, "darling, don't wait for the rain to pour,
As winds may change and skies may grey
But this ships not wrecked, its here to stay"
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