I'm scared in broad daylight,
A glance at me earns a label:
'Threat'

I can't afford to be seen through,
For my label to be clear and
Open for attack.

I know that being me is not
As safe as living a lie,
But there's no choice.

They don't understand,
That I am a target from the moment
I step outside.

I have to hide,
But I can't.

My head hurts again,
Both inside and out,
I can't stand it any more,
Listening to him shout,
Screaming at his son,
For coping too well,
For not caring enough,
He shatters my shell,
Blames the bottle,
Plays with guilt,
And manages, brick by brick,
To tear down the wall I built,
A fist collides with tears,
And crushes my insides,
Releasing the pain,
That I learned to hide,
So they wouldn't think,
To check if I was okay,
But it's too much,
Far too much today.
So I run away.

The leaves tumble down,
A thread hangs from the trunk,
Each leaf tied by unseen hand,
Locked in frozen fall,
They call them tears,
But they cling on instead of drop,
A whisper on the water,
Ripples pink in sunset's warmth,
Across the almost still, dark water,
Reflections warped,
Silent breath,
Watch the colour fade.

An overwhelming sense,
That I've done something wrong.
An ever fearful heart,
Breaks free and bursts into song.
It tells my paranoid mind,
That it was right all along.
My growing confidence,
Backs away and won't go on.
My weary fingers,
Blamed for taking too long.
My tiring eyes,
Blamed for misunderstanding the response.
I think something's up,
But I'm not sure what.

Stop trying,
You don't need to,
I already ******* hate myself,
I already scowl at the mirror,
I already feel sick when I speak,
You don't need to,
Bury me in ****,
When I've already dug my own grave,
And laid in it.

A girl sits on the worn out
Stone of an old staircase
Deeper in the middle from
Shoes gone by
She leans on the wall
By her side
With a smile on her face
And her eyes barely open
Air drifts in to her
Like she is a part of it
And with it she flows
Up from the cold stone
Out of the shadows
Across the town
The only one she knows
To find the eyes
That she spotted last night
Filled with ripples
And colour and light
And from the hazy shapes
She strained to see
She builds a person
Thin arms, thin waist
Hair half over one shoulder
And a smile,
Then a laugh which
Tickles her own lips
And makes her open her eyes

She stands and shakes her head
She must forget
Until she sees her again

I'm tired,
But I fight it,
I struggle with my head,
I occupy myself,
To keep my weary eyes open,
Long enough to convince myself,
I won't dream too much,
Long enough to believe,
I'll make it,
Without descending,
Slowly but surely,
Into my own hell.

Before the sun can sleep
It sets the world on fire
It fills the sky with flames
And turns the trees to smoke
It watches the horizon burn
As it falls from reality
And lets the night put out its flames

Shining,
Gleaming,
In the reflection,
Of a darkened window,
A power-saving lamp,
Lights the spiral bounds,
Of a single notebook,
That holds my inner,
Soul.

In
blurry  
        mornings
Before eyes are conscious
Before my thoughts connect
That steam, that aroma
Is simple bliss
To stumbling minds.

Have I truly known loss?
Death is yet to plague me or the people I love,
Those decaying claws are yet to rip through my blurred horizons,
I am yet to hear the rasping breath on the back of my feeble neck,
That whispers: "It's over"

Betrayal has made its mark,
But more often I felt their icy hands diving through my chest before those talons could grasp my heart,
I found that even when my preconceived ideals grew to be false,
Slowly building a barbed cage around me,
I was able to turn on my heel and leave the way I came: Trust.

My heart has broken just once,
The two halves healed,
The serrated blade with which love carved my soul left only superficial wounds,
To restore my heart I needed little more than time,
And one other medicine: Friendship.

Despair,
I wish I'd never known you,
Your inviting arms were laced with poisons,
Loneliness, self-loathing and hopelessness fed on my brain,
Removing emotions with grotesque precision,
But you too we're defeated easily: I am better now.

In the end I lost no more than I gained,
But each possession felt more precious as they were ripped away,
But what I have come to realise is that my perception of what loss is has been warped,
And now the years of anguish and pointless tears seem all the more meaningless.
Who am I to complain when others have far greater loads than me?
Even those who helped me are weighed down by much heavier burdens,
So now I have found a new goal:
Prove that loss did not win.

As we sit here
Stars circling above us
Eternities pass in seconds
Fathoms in whispers
Reality melts into a symphony
Of feelings and fleeting moments

And beneath it all
A whisper in the air
Each breath a blessing
Every smile an embrace
Gathering all fear and longing
And setting us free

Perhaps I could have told you,
In a moment when nothing mattered more,
Than your fingers in my hand,
Or your head on my shoulder.

Perhaps in that mix of dark and laughter.
And shouting to be heard,
I could have let myself,
Say the words in my head.

Perhaps when blinded from consequence,
When fear of failure did not cross my mind,
I could have been honest,
And whispered a kiss on your lips.

They swooped,
With simple grace,
Floating,
Glowing,
And beating their wings,
So silently,
They seemed to be,
Almost,
Magical.

I was once told that being yourself,
Was all about you and no-one else,
That you should be the person you want to be,
Not anything else, at all, but "me".

I was once told that loving another,
Was all about you and your true lover,
That love is blind and sees only the heart,
And keeps you together when you're apart.

I was once told that how I dress,
Was all about what I think looks best,
That as long as I'm comfortable no-one will mind,
Just make sure you leave a good impression behind.

What I was told is crushed everyday,
By "friends" I trusted and the words that they say,
By ignorance and expectations I'm forced into,
Being someone else who can't speak the truth,
And when I finally admitted to the lie I've been living,
I guess I was hoping for something more forgiving,
Than assumptions and refusals to call me by name:
I just want you all to treat me the same.
Only one thing changed:
My honesty.

Life can be cruel,
Life can tear you apart,
Life can take your heart in its hands and crush it with the slightest of breaths,
Life can knock you down with a single finger,
Life can push you off the edge,
Life can burn your soul,
Life can punish you for doing the right thing,
But the thing is,
More often than not,
It doesn't

Take me away from,
Tiring roads and fading lights,
Hold no hint of hope.

He took an empty bowl,
And filled it with night-black,
Cracked a diamond on its side,
And sprinkled in the shards,
He stirred them into swirls,
Into whirlpools,
Drawing in the eye,
And in that reflection,
He saw himself,
And a single tear fell,
A glistening orb,
That sent ripples across that bowl,
As it hung in the centre of it all,
Born of sadness,
Treasured forever.

I know when I'm lonely
All she has to do is hold me
And all of the pain fades away
As the rest of the world falls away.

I know when she holds me
She's never going to let go of me
We could run away
Just us, we could escape.

Then she holds me tighter
The flame between us brighter
Suddenly we're running free
Her and me: in our dreams
She's leading me to a fantasy.

Who cares about the storm clouds?
When this could be our breakout.
My hand runs through her hair
We could be anywhere
Because tonight
Is our night.

She's not a lighthouse,
I'd rather bask in her gaze,
She's my North Star, wherever we are
And she's pointing the right way
I'm following her
And when I'm her girl
I'll be home

We speak a language,
Different to all,
Our words placed in moments,
Memories.
A glint in the eye,
Or eyebrow raise,
And we know we're speaking in code,
And suddenly we're all,
Laughing.
And though we all know,
That we're all filled,
With burdens,
For those moments we make memories,
And those memories keep us sane,
Keep us smiling,
And burn brighter,
At least for a while,
Than all the shadows of our past,
And right then the whole world,
Is adorabubbly.

After school
A girl sits alone
At a piano
And plays
Songs she didn't know
And as she sits there
She learns
How to make beauty
With her fingers
And how it lingers
In the air.

The flute calls out, leaping across bar-lines,
A girl, her eyes closed and hair loose,
Swaying in time, the instrument resting below her gentle lips,
Using her precious breath to grace the air,
With a pure beauty, as if calling to the rivers,
As if those notes were crafted for these hills,
And separated long ago,
But their connection only strengthened,
And now her breaths stir the grass,
And brush against the leaves.

The nights and pain I wish away,
Dissolve upon the breeze,
The lights above, and the whisper of,
A monster in the steam.

A cough, a glare, a moment rare,
A chance to catch my breath,
And listen hard, the falling stars,
Sing before they rest.


A rumble low, that we all know,
Is nothing to be feared,
Keeps us from harm, And spirits calm,
As long as he is near.

We were inseparable
Until we were too busy
Or too tired to laugh
And we'd talk nonsense
For hours on end
For some release
From logic and coursework
We'd eat junk
Because why the hell not?
And we were inseparable
Because why wouldn't we be?
When we knew each other so well
Well enough to call each other
Trees and weird toads
And we laughed and laughed
And laughed and never grew up
Because why should we?
So we didn't  and we won't ever
Not really
Not when we're together
We'll always be not-quite-adults
With whims and fantasies
And silliness
That meant so much
For meaning nothing

In the texture of summer air
A hope lingers
A promise
Of future warmth
Brighter days
Simpler ways of living
And almost tangible
Touchable
Tasteable love sits
In every breath
Building up
Bubbling over
And straining to be released
Into the world that cries out for it
A people who long for it
A community that thrives on it
As light pours out
And joins the divided.

On the moor at midnight,
The stars above my head,
Shone high and bright.

And the lacklustre sound,
Of untrained singing,
Echoed around.

I marvelled at the full moon,
And smiled: "Merry Christmas"
It will be here soon.

I am afraid.
I see no sense denying,
For ignoring weakness makes me no stronger,
Instead I embrace it,
I know I am afraid,
But fear has a purpose,
It protects me and keeps me reasonable,
Keeps me rational,
Fear fueled my escape from pain,
And fear teaches me to avoid it again,
'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
Yes, fear is love,
The kind of love that keeps its children from harm,
I am afraid,
But I am better for it.

Half-hearing the story
of a face I didn't know,
But the eyes I've never seen before
still remind me of my own.

The nightmare that she's living -
I don't focus but still see -
Reminds me of the shadows that pass
beneath my doorway.

The faces in her window match
The faces glimpsed in mine
But I know not who she is
Nor who I am

"You're always on your phone"
Talking someone out of suicide
"You're up too late"
Talking myself out of suicide
"You write too much"
To let the pain out
"Make time"
Where from?
"Focus on school"
*What about my happiness?

The beats pound through my head,
The words mean nothing,
But silence hurts,
So it keeps thumping through my head,
Filling the emptiness,
With empty words,
And shallow meanings,
To remind me,
I can do better.

There are people running,
Chaos,
I don't know where I am,
I'm late, I think,
Time is short,
I have to hurry up!

"Just stop."





"No, stay still."





"Why?"





"No reason."





"No, don't move."





"Keep dead still."





"Hear that?"





"Feel it?"





"There's a whisper on the breeze."





"No, shush."





"Don't speak."





"Just listen."





"It's not silent."





"Is it?"





"There's something there."





"Can you hear what it's saying?"





"No?"





"Don't worry."





"Neither can I."





"But."





"I don't ignore it."






"You."





"Are."





"Not."






"Alone."

Is it too late?
Did time force my hand too far?
As much as I push back,
I can't get off this path,
And my fate remains.

The air is biting me,
With homely smells,
With too much comfort,
Like trying too hard to impress my friends,
The first time they come round to my house.

The night is tiring me,
But I'm fighting back,
For no apparent reason,
Like the rebellious teenage streak,
That I could never bring myself to have.

The chair is pushing me,,
Urging me to leave,
But I remain stubborn,
Like being told our love is over,
But clinging onto hope.

In the morning,
The smell of damp earth and traffic,
Overwhelms the senses,
Of a sub-urban girl.

The monotone beating,
Of rain invades the rhythm of my heart,
And reveals pulses not,
Constant noise.

With each pace,
Or stride she closes on her home,
Not her house but,
The abode of her smile.

Then constructed deadlines,
And the shrill alarms of modern time,
Drive her away and disconnect,
The joy.

But she takes a little more,
Happiness with her,
Each time she allows herself,
To be awake.

Awake,
Not in semi-slumber,
But eyes fully open to the beauty of the world.

Distract, destroy, disturb the angels sleeping
Rough, reborn, restored the heaven's weeping
Hated, hurting,
Kingdom burning, turning
Back behind my back.

Unhinge, untie, undo the laws you're bound by
Rusted rules return until the dark dies,
Punished, paining,
Hell is reigning, straining
Hands around my neck.

The curtains,
Parted slightly,
Just enough,
For a thin sliver,
Of reluctant light,
To pierce through,
From the fading lamppost,
And tempt me out,
Away from home.

A glint on a car window makes me squint my eyes,
Those sharp spikes of light make my pupils hide,
Retreating from the brightness, to the inside they know,
My sight's afraid of summer, but my mind is aglow.

The days are long at last, the evenings pink and red,
The clouds, as if from cartoons, float above my head,
The vibrant flowers are shining - radiant as the sun,
And I am calm, I can breathe slowly, the gentlest season is begun.

"Bring me the head of a live unicorn!"
He demanded of me,
He wanted to use a laryngoscope,
To examine its insides,
As he spoke he peeled a potato,
And requested the deciding vote,
Upholding democracy,
Or the Mafia of the commons.

There is more truth around my neck
than there is in my whole body.

And scratched into the clasp
are the marks of honesty.

And clinging to the velvet
is a whisper of who I could be.

But the lump in my throat,
the way my shoulders stretch out
a little too far away from my flat chest
and my hips don't quite fit
the way I want to walk.

Your eyes see body first,
Truth second.

The distance runs past my eyes,
And suddenly I'm right there,
Listening to your music,
And I could take your hand,
I think.

But as I reach out, the ground falls away,
And I am dragged through restless seas,
Through dirt and across concrete,
Until I'm back home,
A shivering wreck.

I need to stop listening to the
music that makes me say these things
that really should remain unspoken
or at least no more than implied.
I held myself back for so long
but nothing seems to keep me
from wanting you to join me
and hear these songs by my side.
I wish I could tell you in words
why I'm so afraid to say all these
things which mean so much to me
and to you perhaps in time.
But instead I mess up and use far
too many ellipses to show you how
nervous I am but all they do
is confuse and remove all rhyme

I close my eyes
To imagine when I open them
I will see hers returning
My gaze

And I slow my breaths
To imagine as I do so
She shares the very air
I breathe

And I relax my arms
To imagine that when I wake
She will be in them, where
She belongs

And I close my lips
To imagine that my alarm clock
Will be her gentle whisper of
A kiss

And I release my soul
To imagine that in dreams perhaps
We are together for just
A moment

And I fall asleep
To imagine that in the morning
The distance won't seem so far
From my heart to hers.

I stand here
As if I've been here ten thousand times
As if these trodden pathways were laid on my footsteps
And the lines of trees make an imprint on my retina
As if they fill a gap that was printed in my eyes
When they first formed
And the branches turn the afternoon to dusk
Silently drawing the time from the air
And using it to paint a patchwork
Of deepening green above my head.

I cannot exist
Away from
Friendship that holds me together
Just about, not because the glue
Won't stick but because
I lost some of the pieces already
And I yearn for such senseless
Wastes of time as
The days
I used to savour and
Used to keep me smiling just
just
About.

The clouds are purer white, and spread across the sky,
The sun can breathe a gentle hush of hope into my eye -
A simple hint that this
may be more than just a glimpse,
That I may see the spring and summer again before I die.

But when the days are bright, I feel worse come the night,
When the sun has left me all alone to trust my straining sight.
The shadows in my room,
The closing sense of doom,
I have no spirit left to fight and no way left to keep the light.

So though the air is pure, and birds are singing for
the end of winter, start of spring, there's no way to be sure,
That I will make it through
to see another June,
Or that I will not end my evening by bleeding on the floor.

Remember them,
We're told,
As they launch another drone,
Another assault,
And drop another bomb.

Remember them,
We're told,
Though there's others every day,
Everywhere we look,
People dying, starving, crying.


Remember them,
We're told,
Though even now there is no peace,
No truth or life,
Without debt or pain.

I'm sure they'd rather we forget,
If it meant we fixed the world today.

The dim light of an electric lamp,
Is the only source of comfort,
And even its glow cannot,
Reach every headstone.

Do the dead fear the dark?
Sleeping day and night?
Or is illumination irrelevant?
When eyes are hollow?

Does the silver in between,
The leaves of guardian trees,
Chill their hearts and raise,
Suspicion within their graves?

Or are the dead braver than me?
No shiver down their spines,
They have nothing to fear,
Yet I fear the nothingness.

Rusted arms,
Connect with ageing joints,
To turn pointless cogs,
In a once well-oiled machine,
That now grinds itself to dust,
Under sheer pressure of self-inflicted weights,
Held in place by still sturdy chains,
Each link strained,
As the creaking oak of the axle screams,
Splintering in discordant cries,
Until finally,
Shattered dreams manifest themselves,
The ancient timber splits,
The centrepiece collapses,
Bringing down the entire contraption,
Flawed design finally takes its toll,
Tearing each pitiful component from its place,
The walls crumble,
Light falls on the remains,
Of a doomed creation,
Imagined,
But imperfectly realised.

Falling flat, straying so far from
Simple, sharper ways.
Still stumbling over broken,
Breaking, brighter days.

Crushing! Curling through me,
Thorns pierce my pining heart!
Blood! Rushing, rising!
Mercy mourns,
While this weathered wretch falls apart.

And yet!
Slowly, softly, though lacking form,
Some sweet sound sleeps despite the storm,
And falls unconscious across my ears,
With whispers, grants golden song of tears,
And leads me into lying, letting,
My senses go.