The bite of your words in my ear, the touch
of your thoughts as they patter like specks of
rain on my skin, the feelings I have for
you, this undeniable and uncontrollable
attraction... they make my eyes glisten with
happiness and my stomach fill with nausea.
I cannot tell if this sickness that you
give me is just fear or if it is the
knowledge of an illusion that my heart
is presenting to everyone. Even to myself.

Give me that liquid fire,
which burns my throat
and blurs the edges of my existence.

Your calling ends and I, instantly, am
eagerly awaiting the next. You change
me from introvert to extrovert, causing
me to seek out your company - you are
the warm place to restore my energy.
This is the week which will last a winter,
and this snowfall turns to vapour
as you thaw my frostbite.

I fill myself up for you to take it all away,
Watching the flood commence as you do so.
The broken waters that refreshed my being;
Smiling through the day, crying through the night;
You always liked putting old agonies in sealed bottles.

Falling faces as sunshine turns to dust inside,
Stuck telling the time on a long-broken clock.
Minds wandering as beasts draw nearer,
Blood in their eyes. ****** on their breath.
Killing it and taking me with. Instant relief.

I breathe.

If I could travel on a one way ticket
to the other side of the universe
instantaneously, I would do it
and take the other one. My scientist, my
love, my strayed away boy who will never
be. If those wormholes we dream of existed,
we would be together in a heartbeat
and away even sooner.

Poseidon's home sways with the water's
breeze, swirling bubbles and seaweed cocooning
a historical fantasy. The owner
of the oceans, it becomes a place of
refuge for the lost souls looking for beauty,
and every life force in existence is
prized at its worth. Swathes of coral, green, blue
and yellow undulate with the sand and
live, breathing in their silent protest as
they begin to be killed by our wretched
humanity. Our need to seep into
every orifice of the land and control
the very atoms which compose beauty
itself is what has created the complete
death of beauty, taking over this place
and corrupting it. Brown and black may as
well be red, for they are the land's blood. That
home of Poseidon, watcher of the
world and owner of the oceans, it did
not deserve to be murdered by a race
of idiots who were blind to the beauty
they were destroying.

Somewhere in the deep ocean
there is a tremor, a shake,
the initiation of something
intensely destructive and cruel.
The waves move away from him in giant
ripples from where the underwater plates
crash and collide with his dark body,
sparking up and exploding
away from him, from each other.
He holds the earth together
until the shaking strain
corrupts his limbs
and he shudders, sending jagged
shockwaves through the earth
and into the inky water
surrounding him, out
towards the unexpecting land.

I am a broken glass girl
Being melted and reformed
Into something beautiful again
By the heat of his sunshine.

You hide behind a curtain of insecurity,
blushing and allowing your eyes to fall
to the floor when they give you kind words
to follow and acknowledge. Deflection
is a skill so fine tuned and honed
that it's innate, a reflex built
into your body. Yet you never stopped
to think that they never had to say
those lovely things
and they chose to anyway because they truly
believed them. Perhaps it's time
for you to believe them too.

You kiss me as if
I was lost and you never
stopped looking for me.

I am utterly, entirely yours,
For only you to destroy.

I wrote my words into happiness from
my agony, in hopes of regaining
something. My agony turned to happiness,
and I was able to write the future.

I wrote my words into agonies from my
happiness, in hopes of it never happening
again. My happiness turned to agony
as I was able to write the future.

I wrote my words into alternate realities
where I had lost you, hoping to avoid
that pain. My fear turned into reality
for I was able to write the future.

So now, I am writing my words into a world
where I didn't lose you, venting my agony from
the happiness I turned into pain, in the hopes
that I can still write the future.

A violent need
Living inside my heart,
My spine,
Draws me to you,
Drags me to you.
Minds lost
To dangerous thoughts,
Eyes dark
With evil desire.
Rhyming bodies
Quick as lightning,
Alliteration with tongues,
Painting
With closed eyes.
Hot and cold shifts
To black and white,
Turning me
Into your prey,
Eating me alive.
Your teeth
Sink into my lip
And the taste
Of blood,
Pleasure,
Stains my mouth,
Making me beg
And beg
And beg
For more.

Hands brush the tears from my cheeks.
Hollow hands with hollow bones
that are supposed to belong to me.
My hands can create works of art
so beautiful that my eyes can’t keep up,
they can play the piano and dance
and run themselves through someone’s hair
when my heart is too afraid to speak.
My hands hold a pen like it’s life support,
they revel in the words flowing from beneath
sharp fingertips, they rejoice in the silence
of those who hear me speak my poetry
the way it’s supposed to be spoken: aloud.
My hands are works of art and yet I feel nothing
when they touch my body. They are cold
and numb and I feel nothing.
It only feels good when they hold sharp objects.
Not to my arm or my throat, just between my fingers.
I enjoy the fear of pain it instils in me.
My hands hold a knife the same way
they hold a pen. It keeps them alive.
The only thing that warms them up
is the danger of blood
pumping through my veins. Naive I may be
but I dance like the seductress
with blood draping itself over my skin
and desire burning behind my eyes.
I know what I want when I look at him,
dancing to the music,
inhaling and exhaling smoke like perfume.
I know what I want when his leg touches mine
and I feel the anger blazing inside me,
the anger blazing bright and wild
that I never want to let go.
I know what it feels like to burn alive
when I see his eyes looking elsewhere
and my hollow hands reach desperately
towards the darkness, reach desperately
towards his hollow face.
I find myself swaying to the music of the shadows,
my hips tracing the ocean’s waves,
my eyes glancing upwards with ****** charm
through lowered eyelashes.
I know what you want when I look you.
I see the lust behind those umber eyes,
it drips from you and you bite your lip
as I approach you.
You bite your lip
as I hold your face in my hands.
You bite your lip
as I allow your arms
to trace the waves with me
until I’m the one biting you.
Biting you so you can’t get away,
so that you’ll never want to,
because the feeling of my teeth on your skin
is one you’ll never forget
or get again. Because no one knows how to use blood
as a weapon or *** as a tool quite like I do.
No one knows how to bite you quite like I do.
I know what you want when you look at me,
you want my hollow hands which come alive
on paper, music, paint, to touch your skin
and taint your soul. You want me
to coat you with oil and destroy
your feathers, to pluck the beak
from your mouth. You want me
to make you human
and trust me, I will.
Just you wait.

My home is far away from here, scattered
across a coast of cliffs and geometric
birds, singing their vectors and equations.
My home is miles away from here, sands of
marble and caves of ice, filled with memories
of falling and echoes of laughter. My
home is decades away from here, a vague
childhood conjoined to a vague life of remembrance.
Lost too young and found too old, but at least
I have my new home to keep me going.
Your shaped song and vague echoes of joy will
keep me upright in this place I exist in
until I will one day be home again.

She hoped all her life that one day,
When she woke up,
The person she fell out of love with a long time ago
Would disappear.

She hoped that one day,
The hideousness of who she was would melt and drip away
So the light would shine on her
And she could be divine.

She hoped that the person she was destined
To spend eternity with would come to her,
Because she didn't want to spend her lifetime
With that person she had never loved.

But one day she realised
That she did not need to disappear to be perfect.
She realised that the light she had never seen before
Resided within her and was always shining through.

One day,
Through the dreams and nightmares,
She woke up.

She was small, quick, agile; a red fox darting
through the forest, quiet as the moon.
She was the fox and he was the hunter,
chasing her like owls chase the stars.
Those never-ending forests were an infinity
of dark limbs reaching from the earth to grasp
at the sky and pull it closer, and they circled
one another in its depths. Slowly and curiously,
she moved closer, only to dance and shift away
when love's embers began to settle within his eyes.
She began to run once more and did not stop until,
one day, the hunter became a fox
and she turned around to look him in the eye.

He knew that she was perfect,
And he told her that her imperfections only added to her beauty,
But through some twisted witchcraft
She did not believe him.

She couldn't see the beauty that lay inside.
No matter how hard she looked in the mirror,
It only showed her the exterior of her body.
She thought that she couldn't see anything else because
There wasn't anything on the inside
That was worth seeing.

She hated what was inside of her
Because nobody else could see it
As clearly as she could.
They were unable to see
The hatred, the anger and the lies
She had woven to protect herself.

He thought he knew what she was,
But everything he saw
Was the lie she wanted others to see.
She hated herself and she wished
That he would hate her too.

But he knew that deep down,
She knew she was beautiful
And that her core was not rotten.
Despite what she thought of herself,
He still believed in her.

She thought nobody could see through her and that if they did,
They would hate who she really was.

Even though nobody else could see through her,
He could,
And even though nobody else would love her for who she really was,
He did.

I was told that heartbreak is beautiful,
that I can use it to create something,
use my skills to create words of beauty
from the beauty of my pain. Yet I can't.
Pain before was my muse, but then you
replaced it and now you're gone. I have
no words because my words left me, you
took them. I wrote my love into an
ancient ballad of confessions, only for
you, and it turned out to be a goodbye.

I never expected to be the woman cauled in grace,
the tall beauty who caught herself in movement
elegant enough to make her a force of nature.
I drift through life like a leaf on water,
aimless and carefree. Words of ruth
tumble from me like a wolf howling in vain,
desperate to be heard. My youth has stained
the derailed girl I was when I was old.
Those crumbling bones were wrapped up
in an unexpected life - bones growing
into momentous trees, dancing
among the clouds like skyscrapers. I am
the floating girl wearing red in a sea
of black, melding and merging with the world
like the ever-changing depth of dappling light.
I am the beauty in a whirlpool of chaos, floating
out into the ocean, washing out to sea,
leaving only my handprints in the dust
and a train of thought woven
with the realisation of who I truly am.

Beneath this dress, there is matching red underwear to be found.
It says something about me, that I like the hidden parts
of myself to be the boldest. Perhaps I am wearing it only
to turn myself into a symbol of ***, a goddess
to be reckoned with, but I like the power that gives me.
Underneath the wine red fabric, I am utterly naked -
stripped of all that is my own and left, stranded,
a faceless body to be looked at. Beneath that
there is only skin,
yards and yards of skin, stretching
beyond horizons you couldn't possibly have imagined.
It glints with youth like dew in the light.
It is pale and untouched, mottled with veins and vessels
all carrying the same purpose: life.
I am haggard, crooked and old
but my surface is soft and warm to the touch.
I'm so smooth and perfect that if you strip me to my core
I'm like driftwood - misplaced and beautiful.
The grain of my body flows into knots and splinters,
twisted and graceful. I'm frozen in motion,
my limbs in shifting stillness, dance
captured in the undulating surface of my body.

She left her cave,
heart full of bones,
and unzipped. Her dress fell
to the ground. She stood, exposed,
layers unravelling in the sunlight.
Toes curled into fresh soil,
the smell of rain. Her body exploded
with bright, vivid colour.
******* bared to the whispering wind,
a bead of sweat found itself trickling
down the centre of her back.
Her arms stretched upwards as she
rejoiced the morning air,
laughing to the sky.
She stood firm.
Birds came home then left again.
Days changed to night then back again.
Winter came.
When the ice began to thaw, it started
at her feet.
She willed it to.
You can hear her peace
in the thrum of the ocean.
Her skin became the enticing
reeds, swaying to the beat
of the wind's drum.
You can feel her sorrow
in the cries of lonely wolves.
Her limbs became the stretched shape
of trees, making the horizon jagged
and green.
You can sense her anger
in the crack of lightning.
Her body became the earth, each
person born as one of her children.
You can see her, even now,
glowing with the sun and singing
to you in the morning air,
standing firm.

How can your hands
be so warm
when your blood
is so cold?

Words float in lost eyes,
broken veins are calling me.

Just take me -
                              take me home.
I guess I thought you might.
                              Despite everything,
I still hoped that you would save me,

                              yet you didn't.

Breathe in my life,
Love away my fear,
Drink in my mind and
intertwine with me.

Grass beneath my feet
and soil in my hands,
tipping.
Your lips on mine,
wrapping me around your fingers
and splitting the silence
with anticipation,
falling.
I keep waiting for the world
to one day become still
but you dizzy and confuse me
as if you are a planet
and I am the asteroid
caught in your orbit.

Someday the light will guide you home,
And it'll click, move together, and you'll suddenly know
That even though you're tired and your heart has run cold,
Your soul is not shattered and you're not completely alone.

I don't know how to be happy.
I forgot a long time ago,
And now I'm just... not.

I hope I remember soon,
For I dont think I am ready
To end it all
Right this second.

It's dark beneath my skin
I'm shivering
          Shivering from the
                    cold
My skin is falling from my bones
          Torn
                    and old
Stone fingers turn to dust
Wooden teeth leave splinters
          Like jagged
                    strangers
          tracing my skin
                    in the night
Transparent eyes
          Glazed
                    with sugar
          Blue
                    and white
Black blood pouring
          From my mouth
                    like literature
It's here to stay
          All of it
                    is here to stay
Coat your hands in tar
          Or
                    feel tears
          Heavy
                    on your hands
          Heavy
                    on your heart
Keep your eyes closed
          If
                    you want
          to see me
                    breathing
I'm here
          Ready with
                    my lips
          and my chest
                    seething

I am losing my mind, slowly but surely,
just like I was lost to your murky eyes
so long ago - never able
to find myself again. My head is collapsing,
caving inwards, and now I am too weak
for sanity, too weak for anything
other than being hollow. The part I
need to love him is lost in your mind, and
the part I need to love myself is lost
in my heart. Return to me, my love. My
lost, broken love. I need to feel you.

Come back to me.

Days like this, I just need to be alone.
I am the chord that resonates within,
yet my music is tired and needs time
to breathe and build its strength again. I need
to have nobody to hear my wretched, desperate
song for one day, yet there is no time to
catch my breath and become strong. There is no
time to be tired. At the expense of myself,
I must look after others and my own life,
so I must continue onwards, despite
the blood seeping from my wounds of exhaustion.
Days like this, I need to pretend to be
social so I can try and fulfill the
expectations of everyone and everything
surrounding me, except it is all for nothing.
Alone, I am not good enough.
In company, I am not good enough.
That word destroys me: "Anti-social", for
it is no fault of mine that I find solace
when the door closes, the whine of tinnitus
bites into my skull and I am left in absolute silence.

I smell the energy rising from you,
drifting swirls of vapour hitting me as
your heat embodies itself in the air's
molecules. I smell the importance of
you, significant to everyone except
me. You're a drug, coursing through their veins and
giving their brains exactly what they have
been craving, yet I am resistant to
your eniticing ways. The promise of that
electric focus as my heart picks up
the pace to follow everyone elses...
it doesn't appeal to me anymore.
I lost my hunger for you a long time
ago, when you started to wear me down,
and now the only drug I will ever
crave again is him.

I am dying within this body, and
it is only made worse by my terrible
indecision. I had never felt love
until that warm month of March, and now I
find myself with love for three.

First. You, my love, my starving, lonely love.
I love you, I miss you, I need you, yet
I cannot give myself to you because
you love me too. You love me more than I
thought was possible and, for fear of breaking
your sorry heart and cracking your icy
eyes into rivers, I cannot tell you.

Second. You, my love, my resonant, blazing
love. I love you, I hear you, I see you,
yet all you see is her, so I am not
allowed to. Your song ignites when she is there
and nobody exists or matters other
than her. Your graceful dancing is enough
to make me keep my silence, so  I cannot tell you.

Third. You, my love, my fleeting, dying love.
I love you, I know you, I want you. I
am counting down the days to tell you. Every
second, every moment, every hour of
every day is spent waiting until I
can tell you. You are everything to me,
setting me on fire and embellishing
me with your warmth. But now I remember.
I have a love for three, those three sections
of my own world which I know so strongly.
Therefore, I cannot give myself completely
to one walk of life, and I cannot tell you.

The sea treated us kindly,
falling into our open minds
and rushing back to the start.
We tumbled down in the
waves together, with the
earth all around us to
keep us young forever.

So close yet so far, the magnetisation
of atoms is wrenching me halfway across
the world towards you. I can feel your air,
inches from mine, yet time flinches away
from me. I would wish for nothing more than
to be caught in your embrace of fire - two
years of wishing, and now as the days count down,
I wonder if your breath, your voice, your nature...
if it will be the way I always expected.

Somehow, he took away my mind
and now I'm drowning in my heart
because there is nowhere else
for me to hide.

Where am I? It's like home
but it's so dark,
so dark and so empty.
I can still see the temporary tattoos
of your fingerprints on my flesh,
the nausea pooling within me,
my tense body screaming
for you to get away from me.
The way you heard another word
as my lips spelled out "No."
Now you sleep wondering
where you went wrong
and I lie awake wondering
what the hell gave you the right
to tear apart my flesh
with manipulative hands. I am only
half a woman.
The other half of my flesh
is swarming with searing
hot agony, agony which is quiet
and shows itself
in wild, trauma-worn eyes
and a drowning
heart. I should feel
angry but I only have vacancy,
and my mind is filled
with nothing except the dust
you left in my bones
once the cold, loveless
touch had left my body.

Vanity shows itself in the smallest
fragments of her body, so subtle it
is almost invisible. Throw away
the measurements, the calculations,
and suddenly you will see ***, victory,
prosperity embodied in the sea foam
of her eyes. Your mind will circle
with body and beauty until you will
be found. She will expose you
for who you really are, someone who sees
all of the magnificent beauty of the sun
in their own reflection. She'll never learn,
she'll never learn. So we must shame her.
Push her away in fiery envy and
destroy her victory so the damage
is done and she cannot be healed.
Persuasion and shame
lick her lips with a cunning tongue, ready
to say whatever must be said in order
to convince me to love her
once more.
I will not heal her.
I will not heal her.

Somehow it's possible
to go from the pretty girl
to absolutely nothing
at the opening of a mirror.

I will,
You just have to trust me.
One day, I will wake up and decide that it is my time,

To focus on me
And allow myself to be happy,
But right now, I need to feel this way.

I can't tell you that,
You wouldn't understand.
But feeling this is so much better

Than feeling nothing at all.
You just have to trust me,
I will.

I remember the morning being bitter,
harsh wind bruising my forearms,
skin prickled and rough.
I had cruelty within me until I saw you
and my body shifted in time,
dimensions warping
around my self,
the fabric of space
weaving around my body.

Insulation.
Steel beams tremble under the weight
of you. Eyes, effervescent light
making the shadow beneath me
midnight grasping the earth,
pulling it into an embrace.
My heart jitters at the scent, the memory.
I cannot forget the sun in my eyes
blinding me, the sound of the ocean
seeing the city for the first time.
Now there are waves rushing against
the window panes, sand piling
at the front door.
You got what you came for
yet you never want to leave.
I think I can still breathe you
if I remember the line, the rhyme,
the way you held mine as your own.

Something.
Something about my history haunts you.
I will be heard.
You will feel heat you never knew,
have black spots in your vision
for the rest of your life,
the shape of my fingers tattooed
on your shoulder.
Hearts will blister, birds will sing,
I will fall in love over and over
again
again
again
until I have used up
every atom, every cell
blooming in a dark corner.
They can believe that happiness
is a dying song
but it screams

its way from beneath the earth,
explodes, blossoming and blossoming
into colours that don't exist,
feeling you never touched before.
It quakes and shatters and convulses
in the dark
but tells those who are lost
the way home,
tracks my hands to guide the marks
of my paint on the page.
Language, rhythm,
trace my body
and love me to the grave,
keep me in my place,
whisper to me
who I should love, who I should worship.

You. Always, only you.
Old eyes, you feel past lives
crooning, cocooning your arms
and breathing in your scent.
You know how to find light,
you know how to make my eyes blur,
to make me adore the world I see in prisms,
shifting angles. I love to an extent
no one will ever understand.
I love to an extent
that I am apart from the world.
I feel the joy of the planet,
fell in love with sight and transparency
long ago. Colour sighs
for she is weary, lost to war
and dust, but I will never forget
when she danced in the air,
illuminated particles, infinitely suspending them,
freezing them in time.
I remember how she laughed
when she stained your face yellow,
creeped into your eyes,
golden hours
spent on nothing at all.
I remember morning warmth
drenching my limbs in beauty,
breathing softly
to the whisper
of your heartbeat.

Something inside me is like a blade
sawing through a nerve,
jittering with the harshest of sounds:
a crash of instruments so horrendous
it pulls the teeth from your skull
and plucks the nails from your fingertips.
Why am I broken? Why is there nothing inside me?
I tried so hard to love, I loved you
the moment you danced for me
that September night, yet I'm fading away.
There's a plastic shell filled
with the thin liquid of my soul
and I'm seeping out through the cracks.
Soon there'll be little left of me,
only the slightest trickling of leftover fluid
which managed to elude the cruel, thieving hearts
who took me for their own. Where will I be
after your hands brush the surface of my cheeks
and try to fix the many fractures in my body?
I'm going to be left alone and afraid
in the dark at the end, regardless
of who looks at me with light in their eyes
tonight. All of them are the same
when the clouds fall around my mind
and I'm blinded by acid rain
burning the eyes out of my head.

I think I might be losing my steam.
It wasn't obvious to begin with
but over time, I began to see things,
hear things, that weren't there.
Patterns in the movements of eyes,
whispered insults from strangers
in dark streets, drifting
in front of my eyes like that steam.
It became all I could see
until I was blinded by white,
it was so dense that even the grey fog
couldn't compete. It should be easy
but I can't tell you how it feels
to have dry eyes and a sobbing heart,
how it feels to have such acute pain within
but to be unable to get it out.
It feels the same as nausea does,
a sickness that will go nowhere,
a pain that cannot be dislodged,
a bullet in the spinal cord.
When I think about love and me,
I am the sickness, I am the pain,
I am the bullet. I am the blindness
crawling into your peripheral vision
and turning everything white.
I am the death you fear and the bitterness
you see when you look in the mirror.
I am the steam, burning and burning
until your eyes are gone
and I'm no longer the only one
who lost their mind.

An exchange of hearts,
the closest we could get to a touch;
nobody thinking about what would happen
when our bodies rejected the hearts
and we died because of the love that we craved.

Let's burn the paper roses which I hang
from this chandelier of falsity together.
Cradling the ash in our hands and laughing
as we dance together in the strange
light which comes from nowhere, we can be free.
This place has a glow which comes only
from you; without you, my tiny room is dark
and cold and my breath shatters the silence
with droplets of ice and blood.

There are some clumsy minds in this world
but she has a good soul.
The girl with the head of fire,
wild and true; she is
a goddess of flames and beauty
in her certainty of herself.
Something about how fervently alive she is
pulls me into a chaos
I hope I never escape.

My body, my soul, my youth.
Young song pours from my skin
and weaves through the patterns
in my irises. I am beautiful
so she hates me. She curses me,
eating me up with her eyes,
eyes which are eating me alive.
She tears me apart
because she loves me,
I am too beautiful for her world.
She will dance in the winds
I make with my hands
and in the flowers which bloom
at my feet.
She will cry in the storms
I breathe
and the rivers
I sing.
She will know me and love me and run
away from me because my youth
is crawling somewhere,
somewhere where everything belongs
apart from her.

They may look to the sky or to their reflections
in windows and water but I am only looking at you.
The way petals fall into the sky when the wind
pulls them apart or how colour seeps
into daisies has never intrigued me. Why would it
when I could look at you, the timeless flower
who takes language and turns it into a colour?
You never die no matter what the weather is,
blooming and blooming.
You make me try to blossom and become beautiful
even if I am wilted and ugly.
You see me as a flower too beautiful to leave
behind when it's you that is the beautiful one.
You're the flower I pick every time I see it
and somehow you never die
because your beauty is too intense to allow
your colours to fade,
so I'll keep you tucked behind my ear
and I'll sing with the swans
because your beauty is reflecting on me.

There is a sad song within my heart and
it is echoed in the quiet of yours.
Something about that silence, the lack of
a voice between rushed heartbeats, contains a
strange certainty which makes me completely
uncertain. Your whispering thoughts have drifted
around me like ink swirling through water
and you have somehow swept me off my feet
with the power of the cacophonous
choruses, which I have only before
felt in the winds of the sea. How, my love,
can you make me feel such madness when your
entire vocabulary merges
into only three words when you look at me?