my thoughts are a vicious ocean
and my words are dry sand
that the ocean cant reach without force
and so languidly, it retreats
and its waves continue to crash into each other,
destroying anything in their path.

Great wings, had she
for flying, said they
as they watched her wither away

but stuck was she,
in the dark chrysalis, and they
watched her get worse every day

great butterflies, were they
while a mere catterpillar was she
and on the ground, for a long time she did lay

while their wings, they did spread,
and on, they did move
for which a great price, she did pay

because emerge and fly, did she
too long after they
had all gone and flew far away.

The 11th brought rainfall
while the 13th brought icy winds
and on the 15th, the sun surprisingly did glow
but most unexpected of all,
was the 16th's fall
of a deep white blanket of snow
and yet despite the 17th's confusion
and the 18th's dismay
the 19th's joy brought them in unison
and by the 20th they all thought
that the april snow fall,
though unexpected,
wasn't too bad at all

A search party was thrown
for her brain had wandered off,
to a horrible location
at which she thought they would scoff

The search party continued
but from them, she decided to hide
and out of fear of judgment,
she repressed and she lied

She hid from the search party,
believing their search to be futile:
surely they couldn't summon her misplaced brain
with the aid of a stranger's file

The search party found her when she was fifteen
and helped her find her way home
and after years of hiding,
she no longer felt alone

The search party was called off when she was sixteen
because their search was once again futile,
this time because it was no longer needed
and hadn't been for a while.

When Summer arrives,
she extinguishes the rainstorm-
the blissful absence of which
not many will mourn.
I wish I was the sunshine of summer
that brings light to everyone's day
as opposed to the rain cloud
that gets in the sun's way.

What was once a blissful flow of pitches and harmonies
spilling from tangled white wires and into my ears
became a flow of sorrow and tears,
spilling from my eyes and strolling down my cheeks
as the song and the memory joined hands
and became one,
refusing to separate
no matter how hard I tried to rip their intertwined fingers apart

The milk hits the water
with an explosion of hues
and i can't help but notice that
that is how I feel around you
The milk and the tea battled for dominance
and of course the tea won
but the milk still existed within the tea
no matter how much it tried to run

Your eyes were laced
with fatigue induced red lines
that were not unlike
the red lines that laced the world maps I used to obsess over
before I realised
that the world that existed beneath
your fatigue laced eyes
was worth travelling too.

Endless months fell
like sand between my fingertips
as I tried to smooth out the creases
that covered my bedsheets
before I realised
that you were not a crease in my bedsheets,
you were the gust of wind that put them there.

Each time I approach the door handle,
she climbs onto my back,
almost choking me with her bony hands,
reminding me of the control that I lack.
And as the day progresses, she whispers her commands into my ear,
repeating them again and again,
just in case I didn't hear.
Each time I open my mouth, she threatens to explode,
for she fears that I will forget that my body
is merely her abode
I am to nurture her and keep her happy,
even if it kills me
for if i don't, i fear she will send me plummeting backwards,
like a ball from a golf tee.
Only when I close my eyes each evening,
does she hop off my back with an almighty heave
and I sigh with relief as I say goodnight to my unwanted visitor
who I fear will never leave

Her soul was coated with untouchable layers
that not an ounce of rainfall
or an abundance of footsteps could damage
but the ocean was her weakness
and every time his waves sung to her,
she crumbled into his engulfing arms
even though he never stayed.

I was a single grain of coffee
floating in the porcelain mug
that was your heart

eyes the colour of
black coffee
from which steam is spiralling out

but no caffeine rush from coffee
could ever compare to the
caffeine rush that those eyes inflicted
each time they meet mine.