Rachael Stainthorpe: Poems

Oct 2013 · 410

Being

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

Being

Thinking, In the meaning
Of things,
There is no meaning. Just being.
There are no answers,
Just, actualitys.

Oct 2013 · 1.2k

The Exorcism

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

The Exorcism

Within me,
I feel the dark sense of judgment in your eyes,
I can imagine your skin, tight and swept,
my favourite place, your jawline and curve of your shoulder to the chest,
the skin on your shoulders slightly wet with sweet sweat,
a prefect mix of beguile and guise.
And i know there is a demon to be unleashed,
from your throat and mouth.
I can sense in my *****, that you are overcome with an inner hell,
that only i can see,
without you even being here.
It's ok,
take me to your room,
tell me to undress slowly for you,
with your eyes drinking in slowly,
my delicate form, ready to be devoured.
Grab me by my throat,
pin me against the wall,
put your cheek against my neck,
and smell my longing.
Let me feel your pulse in your fingers as it holds my breathe,
I can feel your rage, your spit and your sweat.
**** me up a little, baby,
make me see heaven in a new light,
let me see that demon unleashed.
I can see your eyes, though they do not see me,
I am thankful in your good graces, to be in your hands.
Lead me to my knees, to kneel before your majestic form,
My man, my saviour, my light, my life's breath.
You can take me,
You can have me,
**** me a little, baby,
take your demon and give it to me,
Let me **** it out of you,
Let me take it within me,
Let me feel you deep inside of me.
Glistening with glorious sweat of luxury and finally,
mind-altering, freedom.
I smile.
Perfection in pulse, form, and feel.
Feeling your marks on me, your poison takes it grip,
I am exalted, I am life, I am awake, I am the tip of the iceberg.
Your eyes, without seeing, release me from your grip;
We're in a whole new world of trouble, baby,
and we're in the safest place we could ever be.
**** me up a little, baby.
So i can see, the look of love, in your beautiful, eyes.

Oct 2013 · 1.0k

Hello?

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

Hello?

I think sometimes you are not there,
not where i need you to be.
Oh you,
you that i love without judgement or logical thinking,
you that i love with judgement and logical thinking.
You that i love,
with the face that you have between the night and the stars,
between the day and the sun,
my activism between the sheets and the words i write,
is blind and unforgiving.
Maybe i am going about this all wrong,
maybe there is something in the nothing of you,
in the everything of you between me the air and the oxygen and the exhale.
I breathe, something of you,
even though i think you are not there.
Within me you are, without me you are not,
My love,
my blood, inside races with a beat so strong not even a runaway train,
would survive the car crash of our mangled hearts.
Oh you,
I would like you to find me, in your thoughts,
in your air,
in your nothingness, without me,
not being there.
Are you there?

Oct 2013 · 1.7k

Oh, my dearest Sister.

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

Oh, my dearest Sister.

Words are hard to come by, when i think of you.
Many a time has passed between us and then,
and never will i forget your face growing up,
into something we wish we could forget.
And you are the things i wish i could be,
you are the things i wish the sky would open up for and rain down upon,
everything you've ever wanted.
I know your fears, i know your loves, i know,
You.
You, the woman, who grew from a child into you.
You are the person who was with me in those bad times,
You are the woman I am so proud of;
that i could spill tears of joy for who you have become.
You followed your dreams and raised a beautiful, amazing, magnificent son.
And You, who had to endure such hardship,
should know,
you are never alone with this.
There is me.
You are diamond clad being, you have fought fear, and it too has passed.
You are a warrior in this thing we call life,
and nothing will fathom you out,
because that is what we do, we do, we do.
You must know, i understand, I really do.
It was not your fault, and you did the best out of everyone i know,
You are now and always was a shining star,
ready to burst into the night sky.
It was not always there, but it was waiting until it was dark,
at the darkest of times, there was the moment that,
you were ready for.
You make me so proud, did i say that again.
Hang on, let me write down, with my pen, again and again.
We are who we are, and would never change the world for who you have become;
anyone would be lucky to be with you,
and anyone who should be lucky enough to love you,
should be the only one.
You are worth more to me than the grains of sand on the beach,
the species of plants in the amazon,
the words i have ever wrote in vain of finding myself,
and yes,
more than the stars in the sky.
And never ever, ever, doubt yourself, or wonder why,
You were meant to be amazing,
and you fought for it, like a true warrior spirit,
and i love you,
oh god do i love you,
for who you are,
not who we were,
but how we became who we are in this moment.
My darling, never give yourself up,
for something that is less than you think you are worthy of,
because to me,
you deserve the moon, the stars, the sea, the clouds and the world.
My grown up, beautiful, talented, amazing big sister,
my safety cushion, and my girl.

Oct 2013 · 900

My Brother.

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

My Brother.

There is a boy i know,
inside the body of a man.
A Great Man.
A Man that has know the follies and endearment of love, dishonestly, mistrust and pain.
And this Man is a Knight.
He is not in shining armour.
He has been beaten many times in his quest, for love.
This man is my past, my present and my future.
He is the twin i never had.
We are so identical that our quests are forged from the same steel.
Alike in both identity, valour and honour,
we feel, every instrument against our chest.
And beneath the very skin of our shirts,
beats the same rhythm, the same beat to the same drum;
we are love, and love we do become.
He is my saviour, my leige, my mission and my lifes work.
He is without any shadow of a doubt my conscious worry, and my passionate war;
You, who i write this for, are my akin to my baby, my constant, my blood.
You are, by far, the best man i have ever met,
not a day goes by, that i wish i had done something more,
to help you,
in your growing up,
and your strife in love, your life and future thoughts.
You are a man, now, my boy.
You are always here, in between my ribcage, underneath my armour,
beneath my beat.
You make me proud to even be by your side,
and nothing with change that,
nothing,
no job, no woman, not decision or choice,
nothing.
Do not forget, you are not alone in these battles,
we are together, as one,
and i will stand my ground for you til the days end,
and the sun rises again.

Oct 2013 · 420

The.

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

The.

He is,
The.

Oct 2013 · 1.8k

The essence of longing.

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

The essence of longing.

Solitude begs to be near your empty cup of coffee,
on your nightstand.
There is a slight breeze in the air i imagine and the park
nearby is filled with the trees and laughter of children.
Longing to be under your raggedy sheets,
laughing with you like children do at naughty words.
Believing that my bed is yours,
and your arm rests against mine, awaiting a touch.
I can smell toast burning and i wonder if i am having a stroke,
or whether its you making me breakfast,
in those grey pants i loathe and love so much.
I long for the nights and the days, and the days and the nights,
i long for us to make shadows on the wall,
by the lamp, under the sheets, and projected on the wall.
I want the neighbours to wonder if they should call the police,
and i can hear them now, discussing if someone is being attacked.
There is a glass of water on the floor, by some shoes you kicked off
as you got in, weary from work.
But i can smell you, can i not,
that tense musk from a hard days work,
the sweat of that longing you have,
for me in your eyes, and your heart, and your pants.
I can smell the autumn leaves falling, outside your window,
as i lay whilst you make me some tea,
I can hear a tap dripping in the distance and its annoying me
too much,
but i don't want to get up, because this bed is a bubble from which,
we can't escape, nor do we want to.
Your body is longing and your eyes are heavy with lust,
I can see that its right now, for us to be an us.
I see us talking through the dusk and the dawn about us, life and love,
and we make love inbetween the silent spaces where emotion is too much,
and we need our bodies and each other to ****** the metaphorical longing,
we both have.
And the waiting and wondering of who we are,
is here,
right now,
and all at once, my life seems small without you,
a picture a day doesn't cut it,
a letter from you is an extension of your hand,
but its still not here beside me.
I am in the shower, with the steam rising,
your body caresses the parts that have ached for you for so long,
I can smell shampoo and shaving cream,
I can see the cracks in the wall, and the dirt in the window frame,
and your arms cave round me, as i let the water fall down my face,
and all at once i am home, walking in the rain.
I see us holding hands like we are the only ones in the world,
that can be us, at that moment, and feel the time slip away from the day,
And i am smiling, because it has been so long since i smiled.
And i can smell chalk and clay, and mud and grass,
I grab your hair and pull you back,
so i can see your neck, and watch your artery pulsate in rabid anticipation,
i pull you down to my chest and let you hear,
how my heart beats, in exactly the same synchronisation.
And all my memories are gone and all there is, are thoughts of you,
as i sit here in my bed, wishing the pillow beside me was resting your head,
and, and.......
I count your freckles, and look at the tilt of your nose,
I examine your hands and your knuckles, and see how life has treated you.
I feel your legs brush against mine, in ****** friction, they electrify, me.
Music is playing somewhere, and i cannot concentrate on who i am,
or what i am doing, and why i am here,
and not there.
And its not about the *******, or the kissing, or the expanse of our **** bodies laying waste to the day,
it's about the blue skies, the fields, the sons, the trip to get food
for me to cook you a feast.
And i wear my hair up, and i wrap a towel around me,
and i look at myself in the mirror,
and say,
Goodnight sugar, i'll see you in the morning,
and i lay awake in the day and dream in the night,
and you are my essence of being longed for,
and I am yours, sugar, i am yours.

Oct 2013 · 784

The mind and the tidal wave

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

The mind and the tidal wave

I know you think,
you're drowning,
But I came to tell you,
Its only a puddle.
Stand up,
You're body needs better,
And your brain needs the oxygen.
Breathe....
Rise...
Weather the storm.

Oct 2013 · 2.5k

My Seatbelt.

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

My Seatbelt.

Stretched across me.
Tight against my chest and settled at my lap.
I t t a k e s m e a w a y.
Surrounds me, over my shoulders,
Pushing me back,
against your chest.
I take a d-e-e-p breath........
1,2,3,
Hold me tight,
Help me feel free.
Compressing my heart, it beats, against, yours.
And i want to collapse,
crash hard,
so i can feel you pull me to safety,
I want bruises to remind me I am yours.
Arms across my chest, and around my lap,
You can't see my tears, as they fall in exhalation,
Of feeling your skin, against mine.
Tightly we bond, meshed together,
I push harder, you hold me closer,
I push faster, you hold me tighter,
I stop hard, you encompass me.
And,
If i should have ever, ever, ever,
crash and burn,
I know that you would be, there.
My safety net.
My synchronised heartbeat.
My safety belt.
My seatbelt.
My, You.
Hold me closer, never let me go.
Hold me tighter, and i will feel free.
Hold me, just hold me,
and never let me,
go.

Oct 2013 · 1.7k

A man, a Gun and a Steak

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

A man, a Gun and a Steak

I am not your peppermint fudge.
I will split you in t/wo.
I will vehemently hate not but one, but every single second of you.
And i will cry, boy, i will cry,
over how i let myself be treated, by you.
And what are you,
as you spray your words across my face and into my hair,
who are you to even dare?
I am not your morning afterglow,
I will divide your morals thrice/ly.
I will take your hate and i will console you with pity,
I will be pretty, boy, i will be pretty.
And who are you,
to make life such a toy and play love as it t'was a game,
i look at you with embarrassment and shame.
I am not your cup of evening tea.
I will drive you a/part.
I will look at you a different way, now,
I will take a bow, boy, i will take a bow.
And you are you,
and i am sad for the man you seemed to become,
run home and fetch your steak and your gun.
I am sacrilegiously, done.

Oct 2013 · 683

Bright Red Balloon

Rachael Stainthorpe Oct 2013

Bright Red Balloon

I dream of you,
by a white oak tree.
I dream of you, i dream of you, i dream of you.
There is a ribbon tied to the tree.
I don't know the connection, but suddenly it is lost.
You open your mouth and there are words flying through the air,
gaps between your teeth,
pauses in your ribs,
and i still can't see your face.
I dream of you in a white shirt,
beige trousers.
Pretty bland, holding out your hand.
But i am not on the ground, i think you cannot see me,
I am flying up here, my darling,
up where i am free.
I have no tether, i am not portable,
I am free.
I dream of you, i dream of you.
I dream of you where there is no keyboard in my hands.
Where my fingers can touch you,
Where i can connect to you from within and without,
and you can feel my skin to yours.
But there are words floating around me in the air,
I cannot breathe,
I am scared.
I dream of you.
Silently i dream of you.
Obstinately i dream of you.
Sacredly i dream of you.
Ritually i dream of you.
Petulant i dream of you.
As only dreamers can do,
As only lovers can do,
when dreams are love,
and i am a bright red balloon.

Sep 2013 · 778

the man

Rachael Stainthorpe Sep 2013

the man

There is a man, who sits on the bench down the road. During the day.
He looks like there is a world he has seen, touched, tasted and felt, and dreamt to reality, but now he has, nothing and nothing to say.
His skin, is sagged and loose, there is a gullet of old age in his neck.
I turn my head away out of sheer respect.
There are tears in my eyes.
I want to hold his hand and ask him, 'What happened? Did you see her? Did.She.Leave? Do your children still call? Is there anything left of you here, anything at all?'
I sit here and weep and i wonder what he saw.
Whether i had seen it too, and done it and missed it, and missed it because of you?
My eyes they are tired.
More tired than my back or my pain.
They are tired from saving the day, and from walking in constant rain.
I picked out some bullets from old scars from way back when,
there were hit with some fine target practice of fine 'love' writing in the dark with the punch of a pen.
So i sit here, and i wonder if one day he will be me.
Wonder if he sat and wrote little dittys for a world, that he could not see,
for people he never met, for lovers who had up and gone, for those who had no story, no strength, no howl or battle song.
There is this old man, and he sits and he waits.
I want to ask him, Is there a future in this world that he awaits?
And i don't so i sit here and casually think of him awhile.
Before my mind turns to someone else, i can think of and love,
in my own spectacular, unique, philosophic, apathetic style.

Sep 2013 · 677

Mirror

Rachael Stainthorpe Sep 2013

Mirror

Everyday,
I wonder why I am here,
Why I am alive.
Then I look,
In the mirror,
And see evolution of centuries past,
That survived,
For me,
To be,
Here.
That's why I am alive,
For me,
For my son,
For my family,
For you.
To let you know,
Many people have struggled,
And survived,
for your existence right now.
You think you're not strong/worth it/alone?
No.
You are a result of a million years of evolution.
You are here.
I am here.
And I will carry on,
Til my mirror fades,
And it takes someone else's face.

Sep 2013 · 3.2k

Diamond in the rough

Rachael Stainthorpe Sep 2013

Diamond in the rough

I found you, by accident.
A pebble in the sand,
You had been drowned by each overwhelming tide,
And battered and whittled down,
By other rocks around you.
And you ended up here,
Right in my sight, by my toes.
I bend down and pick you up,
With my hand.
I feel every smooth edge,
Every crack and every scar.
I marvel at you,
I think of the journey you had made,
To get here,
And all the years it had taken
For you to be in my hand.
I take you home, in my hands,
And place you on my bedside table,
And feel quietly serene at your closeness.
My treasure, my amazing find,
My Diamond in the rough.

Sep 2013 · 2.9k

The ragdoll in the attic

Rachael Stainthorpe Sep 2013

The ragdoll in the attic

I am shylock,
In the attic barely used,
Barren exuberant floorboards creak in exhalation,
Of your footsteps.
There you find me,
In the dust;
A wooden trunk with brass fixings,
Didn't I tell you I held a million treasures?
You breathe in the sunlight,
From the round attic window,
Preening itself in your vision basked in gold.
I am shylock,
You moved a gilded hand,
Guided by a unknown force of union with the lock,
The air is silent around you,
The room is intrepid in its wanton stranger,
Who dares to enter this chamber of dust.
I am shylock,
You take my fingertips from the cup of a hand I had placed gently on your cheek,
The night before I had told you,
Of this room,
You gently take my fingers and place it on the lock.
I am shylock,
There is a gentle click,
That soon awashes the abated room,
That sways into a tsunami of grandeur,
Of history, emotion, silence and tears,
And it consumes the dust,
The acrid air and essence of my fears settle on your eyes and the homely mouth.
I am shylock,
You know how I came about,
Now,
You know how this room became accustomed to the dust,
And the floorboards, the dust,
And the window, the dark,
You are breathing me,
The trunk is open and waiting,
And at the bottom,
A ragdoll awaits your palm,
Your strength, your gentleness and patience,
This is my shy,
This is my lock,
And you entered the room and consumed me.
Burst through the door, cut down the labyrinth,
and found me.
Picking me up,
You,
Became me, attended me, held me,
with grace sensitive to my touch,
with the intention of a protector to my defence,
And the brazen warrior to my battle.
Now I am entered and countered.
Protected and put together,
Unbound and in your arms;
Now I am open and free.
My ragdoll, your love, and me.
Together, unlocked,
together I and you become, we.

Sep 2013 · 929

A new chapter

Rachael Stainthorpe Sep 2013

A new chapter

I am:
Proud
Patient
Beautiful
Confident
Strong.

I am not:
Ashamed
Intolerant
Ugly
Unsure
Weak

Personal mantra

Sep 2013 · 1.1k

Imagination station

Rachael Stainthorpe Sep 2013

Imagination station

The only thought that is keeping me going;
Is the vision of your fingers,
Putting pen to paper,
Tapping words in to the keyboard,
Dreaming of my scent,
Visualising my kisses,
Tasting my liquid passion
Hearing me call for more,
Feeling me in your grasp,
Eating me with your delicate words,
Guiding my way with your body,
Taking me to places I've never been,
Giving me your tongue to speak a new language,
Whispering sweet nothings to me,
Lying next to me sleeping effortlessly,
Writing a letter of you,
Ink stains on your fingers,
Cooking dinner in your kitchen,
Holding hands in the park,
The touch of your eyes to mine.
Keeping me going, you are the coals to my fire.

Sep 2013 · 1.2k

Rusty paper and hardened nails

Rachael Stainthorpe Sep 2013

Rusty paper and hardened nails

An Embrace to you,
Is all I are.
I want to unwrap you,
from your Brown paper and strings,
again and again and again.
See Me? I'm a shooting star.
Even a dandelion is a ****,
or a blossom or a wish.
Steel and gravity centred;
Flaking black paint rusting,
virtuous, falling apart at your touch,
as I unwrapped your envelope,
Of a Kiss.
I evaporate at a degree of a volcano explosion,
a white brick painted,
at the edge of the road,
I guide your way to a flaking me.
Flying as you are through my mind,
about to reach fantastical implosion
and the skies are grey and pink,
a glitter of an old wives tail;
Do you soar my darling?
As I rust here in your shadow?
Bring me back together,
Hold for me the hammer,
and I'll be the nail.

Sep 2013 · 635

26 letters of You

Rachael Stainthorpe Sep 2013

26 letters of You

I breathe you.
You are but 26 letters
put in to a description and explanation,
a full stop. And a question mark?
26 letters,
made into something revolving around words;
A white page in a black bound book,
Is ready for you.
It's panting and heaving, for you,
the pen is lit, it's flame is dark,
the extraction of a sentence,
and the binding begins to sigh.
These pages flicker through my hand,
as the white becomes a blur
of black letters of you;
every full stop causes the corners
to heave and quiver in anticipation
of being turned and began,
again.
You, I breathe You,
I'm the ink between my fingers,
on the pure white leaf
in my hands
and I create a book of YOU,
that has become alive in my mouth,
through silent words uttered
as I write,
these 26 letters of moulded ink into love.
I breathe life,
In these pages of You.

Sep 2013 · 1.6k

Chronic Pain Syndrome

Rachael Stainthorpe Sep 2013

Chronic Pain Syndrome

It's hard to describe how I feel;
Feelings get too much,
My head is bound and sensitive to your touch.
I am chaos in a tea-cup,
the wreckage before the storm,
and the siren before the tsunami.
Constant pain, blinds my vision,
My reality,
and I can't help it if,
You don't understand me.
Believe me, it's not e-a-sy.
I am not harmful,
But I leave a quake in the earth,
the math in the after,
the torn in the apart,
Do you think this is easy for my heart?
Chronically in pain,
I do not adjust well to others,
I become shy in the fold,
the awakening in the rude,
the disgruntled in the few,
the impatient in the *****,
the erratic in the words,
the misunderstood in the gesture,
Do you you not see I am confused and unsure?
I'm intelligent enough to know this,
chronically broken apart,
I built myself back together,
the donkey in the *******,
the rough in the diamond,
the sand in the cement,
the best in the very,
the for in the ever,
Do you not think I am at the end of my tether?
So chronic,
that in judgement you fail to understand,
that as many times as I have been broken,
I rebuilt myself by my own hand.
And as strong and weak as I am,
As tough as I am soft,
I offer my hand and I ask for your love.

Sep 2013 · 807

A mantra for you

Rachael Stainthorpe Sep 2013

A mantra for you

Let go, of the chains that bind you.
Push them in to an overflowing box,
Tie it up with chains,
Lose the keys to the locks.
Take Rejection,
and ***** it tightly in to a ball,
throw it out over the touchdown line,
watch it fly in to space,
like a message in a bottle,
it's a feeling to let go and erase.
Take Fear,
and coax it out in to the sun,
tell it to 'stop now' and 'go no further'.
Take it's hand and place it over your heart.
Make a stand,
bid it farewell,
'dear friend, go to a new land'.
Take Emptiness,
dig it out from the hole,
that lies just beneath your breast,
claw it out with your fingers,
collect in that vest you keep of your ex,
throw it in to the air,
take all the fake glitter and ash,
and say out loud,
'this too shall pass'.
Now please,
Take Your Heart.
Hold it like your newborn child,
coddle it like any new parent would,
hug it so very tight,
to heal the cracks and fissures,
like any new parent would.
And believe, now it's unbound and free,
that this heart is beating,
and say out loud,
'this heart is beating for ME'.
Break these binds and I promise you,
as your heart beats hard and red,
You will become you,
and lie more easily in your bed.

Much love **

Aug 2013 · 608

Thirsty work

Rachael Stainthorpe Aug 2013

Thirsty work

I have a thirst for, you.
I cannot seem to find the quench,
In the sweet delicious drip of your words,
From your mind to your fingers,
to my eyes to my insides.
There is so much to taste,
And, still, I want more.
Leaving me alive and famished,
You are the one,
I cannot drink enough of.
They say you cannot live without water,
Thus,
I cannot live, without you.

Aug 2013 · 875

Dying to love you

Rachael Stainthorpe Aug 2013

Dying to love you

I would not want, to die,
without seeing the breath escape your lungs as you sleep like a child,
after a hard days work.
I would not want to leave this world,
without firstly seeing your eyes as they take in the beauty you perceive in the majesty,
of your work.
I would not want to exhale my last breath,
without feeling the ever so delicate parts of your skin that keep your body together,
the one which takes my breath away.
I would not want to believe in my last moments,
that i had missed the exalted taste of your lips in a moment of passion,
for me, just as i am, as you see me.
I would not want to die.
Without first seeing your tears escape their boxes and forage their way out of your mind,
whilst you let me hold you, and catch them on my skin.
I would not want to see the light,
because i have guaranteed that i have seen this in you,
a candle in the window to light the way home.
I would not want to close my eyes for the last time,
in case they forgot the very memory of your face, and mine,
as we made ourselves in to the day and night of the world.
I would not let my body surrender to the dark,
without letting you know i had already surrendered to you,
body, mind and soul.
I would not let them take me away,
without knowing that the hand i had to hold, held me in a way,
that protected me without even wielding a sword.
I would not want to die,
without seeing you write better than you speak,
in legible handwritten desires of love and questions of life, and remarks of beauty.
I want not want to go into that place,
without knowing what the world i have lived in, was with you at my side,
and together we made a life of glory out of suffering and pain.
I would not want to go to that place,
because heaven wherever, or what that is, is right here,
with you in my mind, darling, and i cannot believe there is anything,
such a place anywhere else in mind, description or form,
because if i should die,
i would know that heaven already exists,
in you.
Then i would, go,
because i have known that all that life had to give me,
was given,
in sheer force, power, mystery, majesty and beauty,
by you,
lying there with your eyes closed, and breathing as if,
it was heaven you were already in.
My darling if i should die,
know this,
you were the one thing that kept me alive,
through all these things we call 'times',
and without knowing it,
you gave life to death.

Aug 2013 · 580

Chewing on something else

Rachael Stainthorpe Aug 2013

Chewing on something else

I skip you in a beat,
I skip you in my feet.

I find you found where you are found lost,
I am found with you because, because.....

I leave the lights on for you, when you're not home,
when you're out chewing on some juicy marrow bone.

Aug 2013 · 964

Fairytales and make-believe smiles....

Rachael Stainthorpe Aug 2013

Fairytales and make-believe smiles....

I can't remember the last time i had a real smile.
I lost it somewhere back in 2007.
It hitched a ride on the back of someone's fist and was gone for good,
ran out on me, like a linebacker for the pro's.
I have a smile, i made.
I found some superglue, and some matchsticks, and held it together with my eyes.
I used it to describe the way i wanted people to see me.
It was like a stretched piece of gauze,
because the original scars still cracked through,
and i didn't want people to see,
the real me.
I carry this smile with me everywhere i go,
It's only for public use,
at other times, i hide it away in the kitchen drawer,
with the bills, and important letters,
that i will deal with,
one day.
I sometimes wonder what happened to that smile.
Is it coming back?
Is it taking a holiday?
Is it teaching me a lesson?
Is it fighting through the hard times to get to me, desperately?
Is it waiting until it is, well deserved?
But still, i guess, i will keep the glue,
as this one seems to be working,
and no-one seems to notice,
the difference.
And i appreciate that its not easy to be a faker,
but at least when you get so good,
you don't really remember who you really are.
And that's really ok,
because no-one needs to find that out anyways,
when you become what you believe,
and find it really does come true.

Aug 2013 · 1.1k

A song for the loved forlorn

Rachael Stainthorpe Aug 2013

A song for the loved forlorn

She wears feathers in her hair, so when the wind blows, her mind flys with the breeze,
She wears red lipstick to rub off the kisses she believes aren't meant to stay.
She wakes up each morning to realise the world is still here for one day more,
so she cuts parts of herself to make herself fade away.

Pick me bunches of lavender so that we may go to sleep,
but don't buy me tissues, so i don't have a choice to weep.

She looks past the mirror and sees a image of a different girl that doesn't exist,
and every-time she reads their lips they speak words that come out with a view to ****.
Perfect she speaks and moves when she is outdoors and in a crowd,
but at home she is silent for there lies a fear that a single word will break her still.

Pick me bunches of daisies so that we may feel the grass,
but don't write my story as memories as they are not meant to last

She sleeps openly for nothing, for she does not believe in true love or its fairytale,
she takes affection coldly and wonders why she abundantly sits alone.
Yet in the darkness of being held in someones arms and not seeing the day,
she's a seeker of harsh words so she may run and run away on her own.

Let me watch you work so we can see the beauty you manifest in the air,
but don't tell me you love me because you know i won't care.

There you are, come see me, there you are, come be by my side.

Jul 2013 · 1.2k

At your displeasure

Rachael Stainthorpe Jul 2013

At your displeasure

My body is wet, and slick
writhing from pain somewhere within
and still there is a smile on my face,
for every grimace for every single sin.
I don't mean to be this way,
it's a coping mechanism, long been taught
and i live this daily battle,
til my mind is subconscious and overwrought.
I mean to love you,
and i'm sorry if it's just too much,
that it begins with some words,
and it begs for my sublime touch.
For i am superbly subliminal consciously,
with every note i speak,
and i cannot help that i love you,
for my heart is tough but weak.
And the crowds are laughing,
the cupboard is lacking and bare,
and i sit here and sigh,
whilst you sit with them and stare.
Wait for me to fall for you,
then beg me to stay,
tell i am beautiful, enlightening, precocious and rare,
and then take it away.
I can hear my heart pushing at the black of the sweat,
and i am partially here nor there,
and i am partially yours whether you want me,
under the weight of your succinct stare.
But your victory over me
is not through the love for me that you wish,
it is rather through your rejection,
best served cold, in a hand for a dish.
Nevermind my worries, nor my cares,
I know i am of no consequence nor thought,
of everything in your daily life,
but trouble i seem to have brought.
My dear, my darling, my love, my quarry,
I seek nothing but silence with you,
for i know at least your words,
once uttered, is a missile projected from you.
I am sweat and hard work,
I am scary, new and everything you fear,
but your rejection, though rough,
is what i expected, my dear.
There is nothing i can expect,
you will not allow yourself to become tainted by me,
and my devils they call to my aide,
to show you the wrong side of being free.
You are not willing through self righteous fear
of being covered in the dirt of my love and care,
and when you are not looking,
i am always really, just here, and there.
To want is to suffer,
of this i know which is to be true,
i was sent you in a lesson to learn,
and i was meant to learn from, about, and in you.
I have a wet, slick, black wanton spirit,
there is no innocence in my blue eyes,
for everything i love within myself,
is equally something there to despise.
There is no crowd now,
there is abrupt silence in the dried up air,
intake of acrid, wanton, holy breath,
to see if you really do truly care.
And this aint no love song,
there are no guitar rifts or longing in the chorus of a singular word,
i merely cannot understand you, to love you
and my flight is as free as a bird.
I am wet, and slick, from lack of sleep,
there is something of you inside my head
and every night i wish i was dreaming,
but i think of you instead.
My love,
my quarrel,
my fear,
my future.
Never have dis-pleasured someone so much,
with a singular, single, millimetre of tingle of a touch.

Jul 2013 · 376

Don't be afraid

Rachael Stainthorpe Jul 2013

Don't be afraid

Whether or not you love me,
you have to walk out in this world,
and know there is something to lose
and some victory,
there is only something in you making history,
by falling in love, with me.

Jul 2013 · 754

Broken Record (Edited)

Rachael Stainthorpe Jul 2013

Broken Record (Edited)

If you see my ex girlfriend can you tell her,
tell her i took her t-shirt and ripped it up,
tell her i made something good, **** good out of it,
and it fit real well,
in all the places i've got left;
can you tell her, tell her,
i still have her shelves she left me,
and on the shelves full of heavy books and antique cameras,
lies a card she once wrote for me,
because it reminds me to be strong,
and tell her this card,
even though it sits on her shelves,
it is no way a regard to thoughts of her, now, still.
Can you tell her,
I threw away all the kitten food i had left over,
I took the kittens to a new home,
because they would be better with someone else,
i thought, that was for the best,
it was for the best,
can you tell her that?
Can you tell her that,
I miss her, but i don't mourn her,
I don't care to feel anything for her anymore,
as i look at the pictures,
i left of us, messing around,
in the park,
the two most beautiful girls we knew,
that i never deleted.
Can you tell her it took a year and another girl to get over her?
Can you tell her,
it was her that made me get over her?
In her hoody as i walked home,
from the night before,
i realised i had cried so many tears for the wrong person,
but i still loved who she was,
regardless,
can you tell her?
Tell her that i love her and always will,
because there is something inside of me,
that is broken,
broken like a record,
and it never stops, going around, and around,
like she was the record player,
and i was the record,
but something scratched me,
and i was never the same,
played in repeat, over and over, again,
a line sung of love, hate, misery and lust,
in a song that never stopped playing.
And now can you tell her,
tell her that i killed me to love her,
i wore my heart proudly,
bleeding on my chest,
from old battle scars and war wounds,
and tell her,
she should never be afraid to die for someone she loves,
because i want her to know,
that in the midst of all the broken pieces,
i was inside of her, outside of her, and had her,
but i never let her know,
because like a broken record,
i was stuck at the same spot from the last ride.
Can you tell her?
Tell her i think about the times she made me laugh,
really laugh til my soul fell out,
and the time she officially asked me out,
and i had no clue,
and i loved her for that
because she made it part of us.
Can you tell her,
she is missed, and loved,
and though we will never be,
she played me a song i had never heard before,
and i fell in love with her music right then.
Can you tell her?
She left a legacy, and changed the clocks when she left.
Can, you, tell her?

Jul 2013 · 435

Sweet posion

Rachael Stainthorpe Jul 2013

Sweet posion

You.
you've poisoned me.
something
inside
is wrapping
itself
around
my
heart.
It's in
my
veins
and i
can feel
you
to
the ends
of my
fingertips.
It's in me.
You
are
in
me.

Jul 2013 · 822

Broken record

Rachael Stainthorpe Jul 2013

Broken record

If you see my ex girlfriend can you tell her,
tell her i took her t-shirt and ripped it up,
tell her i made something good, **** good out of it;
can you tell her, tell her,
i still have her shelves she left me,
and on the shelves lies a card she wrote for me,
because it reminds me to be strong,
and tell her this card,
even thought it sits on her shelves,
it is no way a regard to thoughts of her, now, still.
Can you tell her,
I threw away all the kitten food i had left over,
I took the kittens to a new home,
because they would be better with someone else,
i thought, that was for the best,
can you tell her that?
Can you tell her that,
I miss her, but i don't mourn her,
I don't care to feel anything for her anymore,
as i look at the pictures,
i left of us, messing around,
in the park,
the two most beautiful girls we knew.
Can you tell her it took a year and another girl to get over her?
Can you tell her,
it was her that made me get over her?
In her hoody as i walked home,
from the night before,
i realised i had cried so many tears for the wrong person,
but i still loved who she was,
can you tell her?
Tell her that i love her and always will,
because there is something inside of me,
that is broken,
broken like a record,
and it never stops, going around, and around,
like she was the record player,
and i was the record,
and she scratched me,
and i was never the same.
And now can you tell her,
tell her that i killed me to love her,
and she should never be afraid to die for someone she loves,
because i want her to know,
that in the midst of all the broken pieces,
i was inside of her, outside of her, and had her,
but i never let her know,
because like a broken record,
i was stuck at the same spot from the last ride.
Can you tell her?
Tell her i think about the times she made me laugh,
and the time she officially asked me out,
and i had no clue,
and i loved her for that.
Can you tell her,
she is missed, and loved,
and though we will never be,
she played me a song i had never heard before,
and i fell in love with the music right then.
Can you tell her?

Jul 2013 · 1.5k

What the F&*k is this Sh^t?

Rachael Stainthorpe Jul 2013

What the F&*k is this Sh^t?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTgCn4qmRvU
Sometimes, i think i knew who you are,
because i build you in my mind,
and this makes you ok.
Like i have looked through the eye-hole
of my handmade gun,
and let you come in.
Though really,
i don't know who the ******* are,
or who the **** i am dealing with.
I don't understand, 'you'.
I don't get why, i have to leave, to walk away,
but yet,
I want you to follow,
even just to ask me if i am ok,
even just as a friend,
and it didn't matter that we had ******, quite a few times.
Did i hurt you?
No, i definitely don't think so.
Do i appear emotionally erratic?
I don't think so, but,
Yes;
because people like you, and before you, before,
used words i don't understand to hurt me,
uttered from their mouths, that they then used to kiss me
and tell me 'it's alright', or 'you're mine', or 'you're beautiful',
and you knew about them,
or am i erratic because i wish to mean nothing more than great ***, wine and food, to you,
but, some kind of respect would be nice;
i mean, i show more love to my hamster, and he can't talk.
What's wrong with that?
I don't mean to reel you in,
and have you;
Indeed i like you a lot,
(sorry liked),
but i don't understand why it is easier to ignore me,
than talk to me,
or is it because,
because you can't feel anything then,
or you handle the madness you created?
Or was it my madness to begin with?
Or was it just you being an emotionally errant piece of work,
who once got your heart broken by someone you unequivocally loved,
and it divided you, and both made you in to the man you are,
So, who are you? Man or mouse?
But also,
is it true that you can't handle the knowing, that, you did this.
To someone you liked.
I know, because you told me.
Because its easier to ignore and pretend it never happened.
That's such an easy play....easy peasy lemon squeezy *******.
You are responsible for your fuckwittery.
You reacted in a emotionally unintelligent childish way,
calling me names, ignoring me, judging me, telling me i had a certain disorder,
(tho you never read Kant, left school at 16, and well, no job, slept around, lived in a fantasy land, anything else? Exhibitionist? Master? OCD?)
**** knows, but i didn't fit in with your world.
'you are a victim, you play it so well, you're looking for a hero'
Now that was a good one,
so good it broke my heart,
and i never even loved you,
but apparently you thought it was ok,
to break another human being, just because you can't handle........what the **** is it?
So now i think i know who you are,
I test you once or twice,
I contact you,
because I like to believe in some insane, maniacal way, we were, ooooh dare i say, friends...?
And the reaction is the same.
So it lends me to believe,
you liked me enough to **** me,
but when you liked me enough to care,
or because i 'would mean something to you',
or 'you don't know me at all',
or did i emasculate you?
and that, it really really, wasn't ok.....
So here is my responsibility taking effect;
I am truly and utterly sorry if anything i did or said hurt/offended you in an invisible manner i knew not of because i didn't know you, and you didn't let me in, for many reasons, (probably the aforementioned heartbreak/or your masculine ego), and i am sorry if i somewhat acted erractic, crazy, stalkerish, because i had no clue as to what was going on or had happened, with us.
Enough?
And, phew, argh,
For something i do not understand,
I see through you,
but me, in my own wonderful way
think you're more than that,
a better person;
but i did not deserve your full on ******* egotistic-defense full on eradicate mode,
(because one of you,
one of you, i really loved.....
but its ok because,
born a rag doll, always a rag doll, isn't that what you said?
To think that, I loved you **** good baby)
'You do it yourself, you do'
That's a good one
And no, I am no more 'mental' than you are a '****'
Think about that as you judge me
on your internet throne
ignoring me on your black book phone.
What the **** is this ****?

Revelation through writing has never been so empowering.

Jul 2013 · 915

A Lone Huntress

Rachael Stainthorpe Jul 2013

A Lone Huntress

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4proTUy0pa4

“I am not like other women.
I am deceptively ravenous.
I do not throw myself at others.
When I want something, I take it,
Grab with both hands, Dig my nails in.
If that is simply more than you can handle,
Stay out of my reach.”
— deform & dysfunction

I am ravenous.
This is true.
I am hungry.
I salivate,
over the thought of eating you whole,
Your juices running down my tongue, lips and chin.

You're easy to capture,
For I am like a flitting, fluttering, irresistible, piece of the earth,
You seek, and sought.
I pay you a compliment;
I like you.
You're stunning.
I want you to **** me like you hate me.
You eagerly run to me; you try to play it cool, as, ****,
But I've read you right from wrong,
Left from right
Up from down.
And you come to me,
You listen to me,
You want me,
You're scared to take me,
I know this,
I know, you.
And when you finally have me,
I will leave you,
And leave you with a sweet taste in your mouth,
A ******* good memory in your head,
And a good hard wanting, in your pants.
You don't really, know,
I will never leave you,
Though physically, emotionally, mentally,
You think you make me leave,
You know I'm the most intensely intoxifying glimpse of a thing
You could ever have had,
And your heart beats harder, in fear,
Because I am the best thing you never had.
And you try to run away.
But my darling,
A huntress never leaves her prey alive.
Easy, you were.
But alone I will be,
For people like you,
are too easy for me,
And not suitable in the long term....

Jun 2013 · 1.2k

I would rather

Rachael Stainthorpe Jun 2013

I would rather

I would rather care too much
Than not care at all
That way I'll be the one waiting
When you finally fall

I don't hurt too much now
Though I may at times cry
As I'd rather live with love
Than regret and remember hate as I die

Jun 2013 · 3.1k

A lip's caress

Rachael Stainthorpe Jun 2013

A lip's caress

I felt you.
I, felt, You.
Before I even met you.
I had dreamed of you since the 90's
and never known it;
Through episodes of byker grove and Dawson's Creek,
I longed to be the rebel in the story,
and we would ******* into the sunset.

I felt you
In every GCSE and A-level result;
Elation and deflation of achievement,
which led to me to feel the same
in kissing one boy, whilst dating another,
like I was tasting ying-yang in my mouth
pretending it was double dip; sweet and sour,
and realising I never much liked sweets anyway.

I felt, you,
From the take-off at MCR
through the greyhound at NYC central station,
to the VIA rail stop at SBURY.
I felt you in the air of the smoking car,
in the hard ******* in the train toilets,
to falling in love with a twist I was never meant to curl.
And 10yrs later I can still tell you what that tasted like.

I felt you.
In every dance move I learnt to attract a beneficial gaze.
In each time my lover ****** me and left me.
When I was lost in textbooks
and I fell in love with the wrong type of girl;
And as she drowned me in champagne, and I ****** her with my eyes,
I felt, I was a fool for, you.

I felt you,
Each time the make-up *** started,
to when the bruises began to heal;
To when I walked away and became the hunter,
with my tequila shot eyes casting a weary bedroom glaze.
I felt you as I licked each shot glass clean through,
and put on my moves, snorted a line of gunpowder,
and ****** to the beat of the dance.

I felt you,
In every ***** I kissed,
Knelt on my knees, watching the time,
as ***, sweat and spit filled my mouth and nose,
and I thought thank god for that, when it was over,
and I got to light a cigarette,.
I felt you,
As she whispered, panting and hoarse,
'no-one's ever ****** me that good'

I felt you.
As I brought the girl home for the first time,
and she threw red wine round the flat
and ****** me like it was my birthday on the 4th of July whilst celebrating Holi.
She ******* made me that night.
She was ******, and she still tasted like water after getting lost in the desert.
In the red wine we drank, I felt you,
from the seed, to the sun, to the water, to the grape,
as you fell dripping down my throat.

I. Felt. You.
The first time a man undressed
in front of me and I blushed,
whilst running my tongue across my teeth, tasting lust and my heartbeat.
I felt you in each ******, each stare that wanted to slap me for *******, then **** me harder each time; in each bead of sweat that would be licked from my body, to the way I was smelt, to the look in his eyes
and each cup of tea we drank copiously throughout the night.
I felt you as a power was unleashed and surged throughout my body and mind in cruise control.

I felt you.
In everything I ever wanted in my teenage rebel dreams.
In everything I ever wanted in learning the bitter sweet crescendo of taste
In everything I ever wanted in a worldwide love affair.
In everything I ever wanted in a 5yr cocktail world with a dancing girl
In everything I ever learnt from a hidden bruise
In everything I ever wanted in salt, lime and a gunfight, stalking my prey
In everything I ever licked, ******, devoured and became a karmic bruise on my heart
In everything I ever found in the never-ending well of love and heartbreak
In everything I ever learnt about loving something that was broken.

I know this.
I felt it as you kissed me,
and I felt you move
like the universe was between us, within us
and we were joined once more,
by a lip's caress.

Jun 2013 · 1.3k

Best enjoyed with tea

Rachael Stainthorpe Jun 2013

Best enjoyed with tea

Man,
i have one hell of a mean appetite,
my brain is stuttering
and my fists are ready to fight.
Feel my mettle,
heat the core,
watch my face,
as my feet hit the floor..
Come one step deeper,
one head **** behind,
they say scream harder,
as i begin to lose my mind.
But there's no vouch in my voice,
and no breath beneath my chest,
i can hear the thunder roaring,
in the beating within my breast.
And i can't see the boundaries,
between where me and i begin,
you want to see me roar,
as if the game is ready to win.
I'm one step caning it,
3 steps naked on your floor,
I beg you to be harder
as you come through the door.
No-one asked for this music,
as i turned the juke-box on,
but i danced the night away til my feet bled,
and sang where there was no song.
I am 10 beats harder hitting,
My heartbeat is keep time,
throwing my hands up to the sky,
and i look for the horizon line.
Pull me in harder,
throw me out with the acrid air,
that you left with the ruffled sheets,
and memories of me being there.
I have a deep insatiable hunger,
that is lost upon the ground,
and i have a rumbling scream,
that is vacuum packed in sound.
Running, running like there are care packages,
being dropped from the sky,
yet everything is an illusion,
and i'm left digging through a 'wondering why'.
Shadow boxing in candle light,
with someone i barely know,
and i am ready, and i am ****** willing,
for you to enjoy the show.
*******, harder, faster,
til the sweat becomes pearls of dew from my lips,
and i bite hard down upon some skin,
and rip apart the sheets with my fingertips.
I taste, and choke, and i come up for air,
Hunger; hungry desire is written in my skin,
and i let my body release endorphin's
and i dance with the passionate demon within.
Eat me, excite me, exhume my heart,
my hands are shaking with pure white heat,
so i will sit quietly breathing nothing,
and calm myself from the soles of my feet.
Man,
do i have an appetite,
Come feed me
with cucumber sandwiches,
and cups of tea.

Jun 2013 · 1.3k

Buoyancy Aid

Rachael Stainthorpe Jun 2013

Buoyancy Aid

My darling,
I remember,
when you laid in my arms, and i watched you sleep,
like it was the most simple thing you could have done for me to fall in love with.
You held my hand against your chest like it were attached to your heart,
your very lifeline entwined within my fingers.
I watched each rise and fall of your chest,
and it was the only thing in the world i knew that was keeping me alive.
Your face looked as if it had found heaven,
and as i slept i found mine in yours.
I wanted to dive in with you, in to your dreams
and see what you were seeing,
and feel what you were feeling,
because i wanted nothing more to be everything,
your entire world.
I remember,
when we used to laugh and the safest place i felt,
was in your arms,
and when we used to laugh, it was like our world collided in the air between us,
and exploded like a firework in an indian night sky,
the space that we used to stand apart between,
was now joined as one.
I remember,
you had the most beautiful eyes i had ever seen,
and my brain forgot how to formulate words when you looked at me,
I went dumb,
and i was ok with that,
being lost in thought at you.
You used to tell me how i was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen,
and i was loved more than i ever really knew,
you used to tell me that i had saved you,
that you wanted to be my forever,
I remember now,
I remember.
I remember,
how you thought i was your everything,
when really i was drowning without you,
suffocating without your laughter,
blinded without your eyes,
and numb without your hand.
Memories of you,
the best thing i ever lost.
You saved my heart,
as i was drowning in a sea of pain,
you threw me a line,
after line,
after line.
I remember now,
how i loved you with all my being.
And you really did save my life.

May 2013 · 986

Grief

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

Grief

Love.
I am desert sand. I was lost in the sun. Blinded
Black. Hearted. Ice. Cold. Veins.
Rebel ruined.
Not one single drop of water was spared.
Desert sand. Strained through your fingers, looking for diamonds.
In the heat of the sun. Starched white to the bone.
Devastated by my very nature.
Lost in allegiance to my morality.
Look at you, look at you....me oh my.
My love, has no eye, for a single derision, of indecision, of loss or fate or something along those lines,
behind the broken front gate, and the new pane of glass in the bedroom window.
Did you really mean to make me cry.
I was too loved, for you to get by?
Not 50 per-cent, of a hundred of where i needed to be.
Sitting on your knee.

Love.
I am parched.
Sand grits between your teeth, as you swallowed the ocean within me.
Countless times i wandered around, these dunes.
My darling, darling, i lost you when i loved you.
Where did you go?
Are you hiding from me, hiding from my knee, from my coddling, and, you're not listening to me.
For, i talk too much.
Too long I have sat in silence over you.
For you hold me in your arms but you hate with your eyes, and i am lost in the ****** sand; you dried me out, you make scream for you, in the rain, and i lost sight of you, but i never forgot, how you felt, when i laid in your arms.
Did you really mean to do that?
Reborn in your grief.
You spat me out between your teeth.
From a mouth which made me think heaven, existed on earth, in someone like you.
Eyes of blue.
Scorched with hate.

Love.
You found me.
Trickled water in to my lips and made me believe it was from the gods.
Cold. Hearted. Girl.
Illusionless. Defeated.
I Fell For You.
An oasis, you, appeared to me.
Heat burnt from the inside out, sustainable combustion, which left through my mouth, and made you a man of worth, bespoke with grace, that you never had, but i endowed you with my broken self.
If only to believe i would never, leave.
Ask me, why i love you.
and i will tell you, i have to run.
Running from the sun.
From the fall-out of the world from my chest, on to the floor.
Flying out the front door.
As i drown in sand,
and you let go of my hand,
and my face, becomes a mirage of a hue.
Death, in me, becomes you.

May 2013 · 2.9k

Quick fuckin trend

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

Quick ****** trend

I'm trending love.
I'm trending hate.
I'm trending the fact that you always reply a little too late.
I'm telling you that you are less than enough.
And when you **** me, its a little too rough.
Pounding away like you're shooting a gun.
All too soon.
I never come.
Too pretty to make you feel let down.
Fake it always, you're the shittest rodeo clown.
Take off your ****** face.
Eat me wide, go on, give me a taste.
Sink your teeth into my bare flesh,
feel my history in my blood
seek me out in all my mess.
I am showing you darling
in my very sweet tones
that my succinct naivety is nothing more,
than what you want from your white ash bones.
I am trending you
I am trending your ****.
I am trending the look you wear
and the music you rock.
I am seeking a feeling more than text, a wink or smiley face.
Look, At, ME.
Am i that easy to replace?
Bitterness is found in the sweetest pill
i'll bend your ***, i'll bend you over,
I'll ******* at will.
I will move my trend towards your neck
outpour my lack of interest in your ear,
tell you what it is you want to hear.
*******, and **** your nation.
**** your distinctive'taste',
and your senseless judgement and interrogation.
I am not some sweet-***-****-drive-by-shooter-girl,
I have ******* brains,
I am seconds away from tearing apart your world.
I am living safely from behind my defensive line of white hair,
**** that ****, i don't want closeness
rip my clothes off, don't leave till i'm wanton and bare.
Oh and i am trending your messages
I am trending all of you.
I am not trending depression, ****** up or feeling blue.
I am trending love, trending the great divide.
I made it through and over, to the other side.
I am not what you will ever believe me to be
a glimmer, of a hint, in a riddle, is all you will see.
I am trending what is insane, and what is not,
I am thinking, your thinking of,
'what the **** has this girl got?'
I am not here to make you laugh, or for you to wish for more,
I am here to be left broken and wet,
on your kitchen floor.
I am trending honest, i am trending passion and life,
I am trending a big fat ****** smile,
Because I am not your possession or your future wife.
I am not trending your **** size, or your 16 positions in one night,
I don't want you to cry on my shoulder
I am not trending 'your mother', i have earnt that right.
Look, At. ME.
Second chances rarely come as few
and when i walk away, i will walk away with a taste of you.
I am sweetness, i am luxury divine,
make me bite you, scratch your back, forget the time.
But at my cost, at my control, this will be,
you are not my attachment,
my soul is not your key.
I am trending love, i am trending ME
for what is locked within, is never for free.
****.
Me.
What a trend

May 2013 · 937

'You're on a road to nowhere'

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

'You're on a road to nowhere'

There is something there, in the essence of this, something that i tasted, salt and sweat, dripping from your fingertips. There is footsteps in the stairway around my heart, i hear them creaking in the moonlight, as you find your way in the dark.
Where is my vision?
I don't tend to look at your eyes, i cannot, i do not have to be that strong. I found a million pardons, when i was asking if there was something i did wrong. I feel the scoop of your hand on that familiar place on my back, and i headily breathe you, as i hear your knuckles crack, from the weight of my familiarity.
Where do i come from?
What is that whisper in the ****** air. The dreams that i have are so absent and so bare. I lost and i lose and try to walk again, on broken ankles, with broken toes, my legs have the strength of ten men. And i am lost, i am lost, and i will say it again. But i am lost in being lost, so is this my religion, my prayer and my a-men?
Where is my heart?
Free me, throw me into the air, shoot me, ****** me, act like you don't care. There is no obligation in an ounce of your tone. Your music is denotation, your heartbeat becomes a microphone. And you sing, you sing, a love song to me 'Dorothy you are home'
Where is my place?
Dreaming of second comings, and i desperately seek your face. I want to kiss you, to kiss you, with my lips, i will erase. You are nothing more to me, than a seeker in this battle of sun-down to sun-up. Find me, come hide me, come fill me with your cup.

May 2013 · 1.1k

Air

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

Air

This is my power.
These are my words.
It is not a tattoo, or a life story, it is not a cage of rattling birds.
This is my meaning and my light to which invoke.
I want to sit here and i want to sit and smoke.
I want to tell you i love you and have no reprise.
I do not want to listen.
Hypocrisy? Welcome to my demise.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxabLA7UQ9k

May 2013 · 693

Last door, on the left

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

Last door, on the left

Do not tell me to be quiet, do not silence my storm, do not tie me up in riddles, or covers to try and keep me warm. Do not try to be the drum to which my heart beats to, i am not a key in your lock, i am not the labyrinth within, you.

Do not tell me to shut up and sit down, do not misunderstand me, assume, appertain to, mislead or declare me reborn. Do not be within which i do not wish to seek; i am not yours, your reproach, your tears, or your regrets when you're weak.

Do not put your fingers upon my lips, do not silence me with a look, do not think you are more than you think you are, because you are more than i ever thought to be enough. Do not try, do not even for a second walk away, do not leave me alone, do not even, let me ever scream for you to stay.

Do not ask me to stop talking, thinking i won't be long, this is not a 4/4 or 3 into 2 kind of song. There is no birth, without a death, there is no grief without feeling bereft.

Do not ever expect me to be, someone who you think i want to be.
Just take my hand,
say 'hush now, be still and come, be still with me'

May 2013 · 8.3k

Sewing machines

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

Sewing machines

If i could take my sewing machine and sew you a song,
it would tell of old tales of girls sat by rivers crying their tears in to a river of wrong.
There would be a loud crescendo as time came to pass,
and love would be gentle, and not lost and profound,
as much as it would tell you how to make it last.
It would tell the tale of two lovers, who struggled to survive, their love.
They made hope for each other, prayed for help from above.
Two lovers who had burns on their hearts from being burnt alive.
From being burnt by some other burnt heart.
From some other love whose love had dearly left and was depart.
The two lovers would be lost in each other, they would console and it would be suffit.
It would be enough.
It would not be enough, they would fear.
And this they held tight to their chest, next to the heart, and they held it dear.
They would long for the day when they would overflow from each other like a tap drips into a hole.
And from this sink, they would drink a mouthful of love everyday,
and this is enough,
they would, say, as their hurt became sewn into their soul.
If i could sew you a life in a pattern of cloth,
I would sew you a life that was love and that was loss.
I would sew you how people were lost from each other and had gone to war,
how they would cut their heart out, purely just because it was sore,
how these people would find themselves in each other but not in themselves anymore,
and how i would sew with cotton and silk,
and how you would see lovers crying, blood mixed with milk.
How you would see the colour of the sky that came from their eyes,
and the hate,
and the fame that came from their despise.
If i had some cotton i would sew you a tale.
I would would sew you a story,
but that would make no sense to someone with the universe in their hands,
and they would feel the love leaving between their fingers like fine pieces of sands,
and how they would not see hate but see the hearts of ten lost men,
who died in a coma of love,
and tore their muscles and shaved their hair for the lament,
of the ten girls who sat and cried to the lord above.
Oh if how i could sew you this tale,
if i could write and weave a song into life from these words,
how i could give you all of that which you deserve,
my love.
I could show you the heavens in your palms,
and the hell you construct that lays in your arms.
I would show you that we lose and we gain,
and that learning to let go, is never an ill gotten game.
For we lust, we love, and we let it all go,
and oh, my, god, doesn't it hurt so?
For you i would sew this with my sewing machine with a red letter and a gold pen,
and it would be a magnificent tale of way back when,
men were men,
and women stayed at home,
and the dog sat in front of the fire with a juicy bone.
There would be no jealousy,
no in-trepidation of fear that someone would steal thy love,
that someone would make you question yourself,
and that you are less worthy than thought from above.
And so with delicate fingertips, i weave and i sew,
for all of this my love,
for all of this you should know,
that love is never easy, and love comes, and love shall go,
and i am not forever, but i am here right now,
and i shall be here for a long time, if you were to take this vow,
sign me here with my cotton, and my lace,
let me give you a second look in the mirror at your face,
for is this you, for whom i sew this song,
is this for everything you lost, and everything that went wrong,
is this for your forefathers who loved and hated and cried and slaved away,
is this for your lovers, who changed when the night became the day?
Or is this for you,
who i see so very clearly,
for who i cannot but see,
and for who i would fight for with my hands, my fingers, my tongue,
bent, broken and down begging on one knee.
For i love so dearly.
For this is a song sewn in to the fabric of time,
i sew,
and it is for you,
for you are for me,
and it is mine.

May 2013 · 325

Learning how to tell the time

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

Learning how to tell the time

Happiness,

finds its way to us all.

It's whether we see it.

It's what we choose to do with it.

Is what counts.

What makes you happy?

You have to start there.

Then open yourself up to the world.

Because happiness means many things in many languages.

And your brain has only learnt, what you teach it.

May 2013 · 866

Lost and Found

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

Lost and Found

You make me lose my words.
They seep out of me into the floor,
and hide under the boards with the dust and mice.
Candyfloss tongue, sandpaper throat.
Hurricaine thoughts, tsunami feelings.
I have lost my voice,
It lives in the air between our faces,
and gently settles on your lips.
Drowning eyes, burning ears,
volcano hands, earthquake chest.
I have lost my words,
they have dripped down my body,
and lay in the deepest part of me.
Grounded feet, rooted thighs,
stormy hands, falling breath.
I lose my words, my thoughts, my feelings, my actions, my response,
mmmyy iinnttreppid, stammering, heart,
in you.

May 2013 · 627

The epitome

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

The epitome

There can be no greater love,

than letting go of all things we know as being love,

than letting go of everything we thought we knew,

about ourselves,

than letting go of our memories of love,

than letting go of what we are,

and starting again.

Let love be, it will be what you form of it.

Let yourself be, you will be what you form of you.

Love yourself, and you will be the essence of what love, truly is.

May 2013 · 441

No-man's Land

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

No-man's Land

I fell in love with this guy.

This dude, this punk, this joe, this boy, this male..

I fell in love. Big love. Bad love. ****** ****** love.

And i am waiting to see what this guy will do.

I feel like i am armed with the code,

and He has the bomb.

And we will either detonate,

or save the world.

Depending on the way you look at it.

For we are all but lost in our egos

and we are less aware of who we think we are.

So where does that leave love?

May 2013 · 797

Bare lust

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

Bare lust

I have this scent.

Run around in circles.

Come find me.

Seek me out.

Find me.

I await your hunger.

I await your thunder.

I await your dark eyes.

I await your despise.

I have this scent.

For you.

Come see me.

May 2013 · 428

In another life

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

In another life

Maybe one day,

We will be we,

Instead of:

You.

and.

Me.

My beautiful hands,

have so much to say.

They can open the night,

And caress the day.

They can rip you at the seams,

they can gently hold your dreams.

Maybe one day,

We will be we,

Instead of my hand

and your hand,

letting us be.

May 2013 · 2.0k

Diamond

Rachael Stainthorpe May 2013

Diamond

Hewn from rocks and pebbles, ***** murky beginnings.
Forgotten over time.
The harder you hit me, the brighter I shine.
The harder you rub me out, the brighter I shine.
The darkness you put me in, the brighter I shine.
The more you break me, the brighter I shine.
From all facets of light, through life and endless time, I shine.
I am precious.
I am unbreakable.
I am strength unbound.
I can cut through you, and you will still desire me.
For is that not, what I was made to do?
I shine.
From the core.
Dig deeper and there you will find me.
A rich mans commodity.
A poor mans treasure.
I shine.
Keep me safe, and I will shine for you forever.