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Sia Jane Sep 2014
In the silence,
your screams, snares & glares
bite me the most.
That last attempt,
was the only attempt
I survived,
physically unscathed.*

© Sia Jane

"It has been concluded that a human soul weighs 21 grams."
Dr. MacDougall
There is something called "The 21 Grams Theory" carried out by Dr Duncan MacDougall in 1901 and it was made more prominent in the making of the captivating film "21 Grams" directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu :)
Sia Jane Feb 2014
I wanted so deeply, truly,
without words, a tune,
a lyric, or a song,
to be,
oh my dearest love,
to be,
your national anthem,
to represent you, my golden
note in the sky, flying past
birds circling our skies,
the stars, and stripes, the
to be,
everything that represented, my
commitment, love, loyalty,
the unspoken,
patriotic, musical composition
gluing us together,
devoted I fell,
oh my dearest love,
we were the one,
placed ring,
do you remember my dear,
my great grandmothers ring,
the purple stone, and how
the emerald would,
grace my hand, a signature
of love, eternal blessings,
the vastness of,
Great Windsor Park, all
those lengthy trails, deer
hiding, behind the lens
camera clicking, as we
waltzed down, our
imagined up isle,
who needs a church,
when we have, horses
that gallop, our capes
we are red ruby slippers,
we are the two princesses,
without our, frog kissed prince
we have changed the ending,
curtailed the tale,
we have used our,
to make our own,
day dream
a true, match
made in heaven,
to only,
end in,
cursed by the power,
of the malevolent,

wicked witch,
of the west.

© Sia Jane
I miss a certain person who was my life for four years.
I think we were maybe always cursed.
Sia Jane Oct 2013
Escaping into fantasy, her mind is
at ease there,
she can remove the blunt knife of
reality, that endlessly stabs
her right in the back
repeatedly, no success, replacing its
blunted edges for something
real and sharp
blood pours
the deeper the red, the faster her feet
take her to her dream land
freedom lies, in the swampy
depths of her mermaid life
fiction and fantasy, blur with a
softly tinted reality, pour another
know each sip, takes the edges
fades them, and pushes her further
to a place where no one or thing
can touch or reach or hurt her
in this place, she knows only
each and every dream, the lover she
so craves, to be realised, unfazed
it is safer here, for it is all she could

                                                        ­            literally,
                                                                ­                   dream for
                                                                ­                                     and more.

© Sia Jane
I had someone in mind, and wanted to write this for that person. Someone very special and close to my heart <3
Sia Jane Nov 2013
It hurts
my heart
Aching for
What will
never be.

How do I tell
The secrets I

form in
The pit

Her smile
is my
her happiness

I'm lost in a
mind field
One of love,
Coupled with
anxiety, fear.

I'm trying to
let go
To move

It hurts
my heart
Aching for
What will
never be.

© Sia Jane

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.”
―Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma
Sia Jane Jan 2014
On the first day, he was pushed
robust in his stance, the other forced,
this boy down the spiral staircase
of the Catholic church, the school
had renovated, the Spring before
Isaac had begun his studies,
at the high school.

Ballet was his passion, Latin was the
language that so effortlessly, fluently
was spoken from his lips in class
as he smiled at his Professor, another
victory accomplished in academia
so proud were his parents, of their
blue eyed boy.

Jonah was the reject, the older brother
he had been kicked out of school,
not once, but twice, and was often
found with a joint, his unshaven face
wrapped around one of the girls,
from the all girls school that ran
alongside Isaacs all boys.

Issac was hurt, a further blow to his
stomach, rendered him broken
as a waterfall of tears ran down his
bruised and cut face, so ashamed
as other pupils laughed, staring, pointing
until the final bell rang as they fled from
the high ceilings and narrow corridors.

Wrapped in a ball, he waited for all
halls and students to clear, and as
he rolled over, picking himself up
he took to the washroom, knowing he
needed to be presentable for his mother
waiting for him at the school gate
brimming with pride, at her boys scholarship.

All his dreams, mystical and serene, Romeo and Juliet
fluid streams of poetry of Elliot, Poe, Hughes
and of course Wilde and those love letters of Beethoven
math, biology, all paled into insignificance
he was born a writer, a dancer, a drawer,
sketching and typing his heart to a page,
prose a future love would read.

Johan saw his mother's car pull up
as he raced and giggled with Saskia
leading her astray, he promised her all
the things those boys always did, and of course
not to break her sweet sixteen heart, unlike other boys
as his mother smoked another Camel, the two lovers
jumped into his truck, Johnny Cash blaring from speakers
laughing hysterically, the world at their feet.

By 4pm, Isaac was ready to leave school,
tentatively walking out the main door, down
concrete slabs as steps, no predators in sight
he couldn't hide the dark circles under his eyes
that formed as bruises, knowing he was fortunate
to have not been damaged further
by the haunting before last period.

Walking to the gates, he listened through
headphones; Tchaikovsky
his release
his home
his saving grace.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Oct 2014
You told me to draw you,
so I painted your body in crimson & gold.

You told me to write you in scribe,
so I wrote you a sonnet, fourteen lines across your back.

You told me to leave a mark on you never forgotten,
so I tattooed your soul with tebori ink.

You told me to taste your scent,
so I walked down the lane, collected tobacco, & smoked a cigarette from your favourite apothecary.

You told me to find the name for the aroma that lingered when you left the room,
so I closed my eyes whilst sat beside you, & inhaled you like the cigarette I tasted on the way home.

You told me to image you naked, like Rose being drawn by Jack aboard the Titanic,
so I turned away, took a seat in the Cumberland leather chair, placed charcoal between finger & thumb, sketching an image of your silhouette in black dust ash, a memory that found me from when you slept beside me last night.

You told me to pick a flower that I gave to you the first time I whispered;
"I love you,"
so I wandered amidst the clouds & air of mountains far & wide, until I found the flower I so remembered.

In remembrance, I knew to pick such a tender delicate stem, petals so fragile they would melt in my grasp, the flower would cease to be what I loved,
for, I love you.

You are the rose in all its abstract glory,
you my dearest are no possession.

If I were to misunderstand such beauty, you would simply fade to exist,
so I sat down beside you, a painted memory,
shed a tear,
knowing this memory of you
would suffice.

© Sia Jane
I am sorry I am so absent. University is crazy and AA too.
I miss you guys and thank you for all the support in recent days and always ***
Sia Jane Aug 2014
Her aversion was never self-sought
Judas claimed the reins
A sublime success
Over all of the
Year 2k's youth
An artists poetic addiction
Visions hunted
Instagrams compelling
Dark places
Freezing ice in May
Ties together future ends
Nuzzling enemies
Worlds ending
Fire or perhaps ice?
For all of lands
Have frozen
Cold hearts of stone
Building hell
She watches it
Freeze over.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Aug 2014
The taste of putrid bile,
It burns,
It's vile,
I lose all smiles.
Knots wrap around within.
Inwards purging
Pulling & tugging, demanding
A way out.
As claustrophobic
As a restricted heart
Sinking in my stomach,
That gurgles.
The waves washing
Around the anchor,
Dead (weight) in
A cast out sea
Of polluted waters.
But don't you see,
That the ghost
In me,
Is only found in
This very sea.
Bitter, putrid, vile,
Choking on
A body retching,
An empty soul.
Unnurtured, wasted
It wants out of,
A heart
Beating; blistering red.
A raw throat,
A choke
A cough
A very solitary single
And so, my saving grace
Is what feels like
An ocean of pain,
Within me,
That has yet to pour out,
Thus not drowning
At sea.

© Sia Jane
This is about the impact, emotionally, spiritually, mentally and physically, of anxiety that is manifesting itself right now.
Not about an eating disorder.
Sia Jane Sep 2013
My mum she always told me I was akin to
a butterfly
She described me as an electric blue that matched
my eyes
One that no one can miss or go unnoticed yet one
who flew
In a way that meant she was spotted and seen
never observed
Fleeting passive outgrown unlived her soul that soared in
spiralled loops
Never let her go they cried out as a child for she will only ever
run away
Each flinch of her wings each momentary rest she knew time only
chased her
So she flew escaped wandered endless continents with each breath
new life
But never forget the old proverb; all that is gold does not glitter
and essentially
Not all those who wander are lost
Because I am not lost, I just found my wings that were all at once clipped
when young.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane May 2015
You asked me
"if you were a flower
what would you be?"
I said I'd be a red
because they bleed
before they die
just as my heart
for each day
you were gone.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Dec 2014
Pain exists within
A juxtaposition of
Sadness & joy

Big eyes flutter
Eyelashes that blinker
Tear drops form

Ice Queen melting
Long I stood
Watching in awe

A succinct melody
Played through bones
Frozen in place

Music gracefully crafted
Echoed beyond the
Silence that followed

Seeing her there
Stoically stood without
A guardian angel

Tears brought pain
Each splash burns
Holes in skin

Long I stood
Finally I knew
She wouldn't allow

Herself to feel
Pleasure or joy
Sadness or despair

Sadness is always
Hidden beneath ribs
Safely stored inside

Joy is always
The gratitude heart
Filled locked in

For feeling is
A forsaken blessing -
an accepted curse.

© Sia Jane
Tonight's thoughts and reflections of the day ***
Sia Jane Sep 2014
She was an
unorthodox spirit,
never owned, certainly
not ruled. She broke the
rules; rebellion soul. Winged gypsy;
ocean day flights. In awe they flew,
not beside; behind her; they insisted on protecting this
archangel. They named her Silver -  her wings provided the
means; desires for travel & adventure. As white as pure
silk; eyes a crystallized stone blue.

© Sia Jane
I wrote this back in June/July and never shared.
Sia Jane Jul 2014
All of hells angels reside behind this very denotation.
Caution of disturbing material.

Her body an empty cavern,
Her face; sunken bambi eyes,
Her bones, dark, deep volcanoes filled,
To the brim, ashes, dust,
Splintered souls, falling prey,
To lost caves, bearing dead bodies,
Where smiles fade, drooping through,
Skulls & crossbones, signifying,
A poisonous addiction to,
Hells aftermath.

© Sia Jane
I am collaborating with a fabulous artist;
So check her out!!
She drew something, and I interpreted it through the words here.
When I wrote  Broken China:
Gia then followed that with a drawing  of her interpretation of my writing.
Check them both out here;

Thanks for all your support guys :)))
Sia Jane Nov 2014
It was in wander
for not lost was she.
It was in wonder
for without sin

she walked towards
the tree bearing
sweet fruit
enticing her forward

lust sent a lumber puncture
through her spine
upwards it shot to the
brain; cerebral forms

into a beating heart.
It excited her there was
such freedom found
in such innocence.

Pulsating quivers she waited
Adam to her Eve
daisy chains falling from her neck
framing a prepubescent chest

hooks temperately fastening
white knotted cotton hand sewn dress
virginal white
no womanhood in sight

Annabelle’s life, a melody of
melancholic cacophonic raspers
from asylums, former patients
of Briarcliff Manor

residing in her; only misery
innocent running’s from
grave dangers of
stark raving madness.

For, today
she wasn’t embroiled
as Arden’s pet
instead she was the little girl

so born to be before the woman
was stolen, bound by
a physicians sick
nightmarish re-enactments.

For, today
she was free
a starling, passionate

© Sia Jane
Briarcliff Manor is in Massachusetts and derelict.
In the 60's it was taken on by the church as an asylum.
In American Horror Show there is a season called Asylum.
In some cases the physician   -Arden, would carry out experiments.
Raspers were the zombie like "monsters."
Often innocence were committed and in the poem I am either talking about the girl who was before the Asylum or a dream/nightmare state she was in during the experiments.
Which is real?
Her being free and innocent or her being committed?
Sia Jane Apr 2015
I hear you in the silence of another lunar cycle
       your predatory stare scares me to death
  the intimacy we share writes like
the history of a "Divine One"
    the Michelangelo of modern times
you promised me healing as you
           studied me intently
  eyes filled
a storm drain overflowing with rain
  your gaze no longer reflected
        in the glass
   you are now stood by

  at just thirteen you held my soul
  on rose pillows of chiffon fabric
you were more than just the oxygen I breathed
    you were the beauty I saw in
    every dark haunting thought
my mother told me that my
    primal wishes were the most childish
  fantasies she had ever heard
a pure example of human interaction
                 I yet again

© Sia Jane
Missed you guys and Hello Poetry soooooooooo much!
Sia Jane Oct 2013
angels falling from the sky
an abundance of delightful
choice, role models inspirations
so many different places to
look, and you were hidden, my
little wallflower, among the
sea shells couture and
more, I finally remove the hair
masks, make up, to reveal your
true, for ever lasting self
admiration regard and respect
no matter the turmoil, struggles
you, endure, I sit back and
try to hold, court, not judge
but sometimes tears flow, pour
from these eyes, and although
you, cannot see why I feel the
pain too, it's there, it's real
and would never be felt if
you, didn't mean the world to
me, cause how can I hurt if
no love is found?
trying to be the best person
possible, to support you through
but a voice always screams not
only, not enough, but also,
why her?
losing you would be a travesty
last year my angel of hope
my Lennon dreamer, princess die
meeting you a dream come true
I swear to god, I refuse to lose
you, please don't let me
don't let me go

© Sia Jane
Dedicated to a dear friend who I adore more than she knows ***
Sia Jane Dec 2014
"Avant nous,
D'autres amants ont dit : "Je t'aime."
Comme nous...
Avant nous,
D'autres ont souffert, ont trahi même"*

Edith Piaf


You presented the evidence
Cards filled the table
Jack, King, Queen
You even threw
The Joker.

I laughed at your attempts
To pacify a self you so
Resolutely dismissed until
You realised I'd actually

Profanities crossed
Across the desk separating us
And you owned your side
Dispersing blood on
Your hands.

I sat still with a snigger
A stare in my eye so wild
You feared my retort
A riposte shedding your

My final offering
Twisting the knife
Plundered into my back
Before this poker game
Even began.

I remained silent
As you screeched
My own voodoo doll
With pleasure I watched your

   © Sia Jane
Sia Jane Jan 2014
Diagnosis: Anorexia Nervosa
Status: Recovered.

So my point in writing... am I doing this for myself? Maybe... or to inspire others? Maybe...
Or to simply just show and say, that I am through this. Through what? Through all that growth that you encounter when you truly engage yourself in recovery.
This does not mean I will not grow further, learn more. Develop and engage. It doesn’t mean I have been able to shut the door once and for all on my mental health struggles (I was trying to be as politically correct towards myself using that term).
It means, I trust, I believe, and not naively, that I have done the hard work.
I have stepped outside of the mirror.
I no longer believe I can only live half way, a half life, between sickness and wellness.
It means, I know, I will never, get sick again.
Many may laugh, or shake their heads at that. And yet, what I am writing here is filled with so much faith and trust, that I can be sure of myself. Even if no one else in the world believes it, I do. And I know it, because I have made a choice.
There were some backwards and forwards, to relapses and re-growths, but each and every fall, I chose to learn. I chose to take to therapy. I chose.
I choose life.  And so that means, the commitment to life, to myself, that I will always take the route that leads to more life, or to more hope...

And so getting well. What happened there? Well, after years of self abuse, of anger turned inwards, after trying to destroy myself in every single way possible... I wondered, inquisitively, what would happen if I used all I had learnt in hospital, all the positive energy directed at me, the words my therapist would say to me... I wondered, what if?
That if, turned out to be the most amazing curiosity. It is why I am safe, well, “recovered.” I don’t use the term recovered lightly. I recognise that my whole life will mean being mindful, it will mean self awareness, it will mean vulnerability. But what I am certain of, is that each year that passes, I grow and gain strength in ways I never realised I could.
I use “recovered” because I don’t believe I am “in recovery.” I have done the recovery. I have done the putting food in my mouth, consulting a nutritionist, the ridiculous amount of weight gain that allowed me to be healthy. I am done with the depression, the endless anxiety, the self harm.
I say “recovered” because as Marya Hornbacher writes: “I mean flat-out eat-normally stay-healthy get-comfortable-with-your-body-and-actually-like-it recovery.”
Few believe it exists. In fact, I was told my numerous doctors I would never recover. I would always be chronic. Sick. In need of hospital.
It exists. I know that. Because it exists for me.
Recovering has meant finding a voice, and using it. It means putting food in my mouth, it means seeing friends, engaging in life, seeking out healthy ways of coping when I feel overwhelmed, scared, anxious...

I live.

© Sia Jane
I wrote this 4 years ago, for EDAW (Eating Disorder Awareness Week) It is heavily edited, in that I have chopped two pieces which felt the most important from the rest of the story. Other than that it remains untouched. I hope this can help carry us into February and continue to raise awareness.
Sia Jane Jul 2014
She was always a sad girl,
I often think she was born sad,
You know, right from the start,
Right from day one,
Before the world,
Its cruelty,
Even made a mark on her purified soul.

Her eyes as wide
Lingering as an everlasting look.

It was as though,
Her sorcerer magic bestowed on,
By Kings
Queens of a heavenly realm,
Were too much for this world;
That her very first cry,
Signifying life,
Was too much.

She perhaps,
Was too much,
For this world.

© Sia Jane
For original sketch and words see;

Thanks guys ***
Sia Jane Jan 2014
I glance at my reflection in the taps
by the end of the bath
I am kneeling and I plunge my head
down into the bath water
to which I poured scented oils
I feel the weight of my hair
tumble over my head
I don't breathe as my heart
beats faster
I stay under the water
I force myself to stay there
water begins to fill
into my nose and my head
it stings with the pain
I am gasping oceans of water
my head is tossing back and forth
my eyes open,
all I see is the red I paint my
nails with daily
obsessed by the depth of colour
the polish provides
my hands are flat to
the porcelain base
gasping, chocking, I refuse
to allow myself to breath
my chest tightens
I want to stay under the water
until I can no longer
with no real weight holding
my head to the bathtub floor
I rise as fast as lightening
my hair all over my face
as I sweep it aside
and the already overfilled bath
spills out onto the bathroom floor
knocking over the Sancerre
and there is nothing but my heartbeat
that I can hear,
until at last, I can hear the notes
of Florence,
her album Lungs,
coincidence, or other
Hurricane Drunk
a passing sin, to drown sorrows
in the curve of a wine glass
to dim the noise of
a war within.

© Sia Jane


I'm going out,
I'm gonna drink myself to death
And in the crowd
I see you with someone else,
I brace myself,
Cause I know it's going to hurt,
But I like to think at least things can't get any worse.

Florence & The Machine
Sia Jane Feb 2014
The chance to blossom, the fear
of failing,
weighing so heavy
my broken,
encapsulated heart
no return, only the
desire, lust
to prove myself, worthy
a candidate,
of caliber, meritorious of
the extremes, of this
express, they named
would surely bring,
a cast opened
drinking blood, vampire
of this night,
inspiration from
midnight skies
pleasure, gluttony

Tell me,
am I laudable
is this,
my true calling
or, am I yet,
fooling myself,
even you,
squirrels in the attic,

©­ Sia Jane
I am close to launching my first poetry anthology - and terrified is an understatement <3
Sia Jane Dec 2013
When I met you I never would
have dreamed,
that I could fall and feel
as fast as I did
Your heart was an open shell
cracked, broken, echoing within
as I whispered to you
let me in
Your head so filled with
desires, dreams, hopes
your happiness mine
your love my love
It broke me inside when
realising how deep I loved you
knowing we could
never have, dreams filled
I cut myself open
to bare my soul
admitting to a love so
deep and pure
I feared losing you in all ways
fearing you'd walk away,
leaving me in abyss
covered in rubble and clay
Then you opened your heart
found words of
truth and wisdoms
setting me free
My heart remains yours
maybe it always will
through this all I'll always know,
only truths have passed
and me.

© Sia Jane


“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it,
and the imagination to improvise.
The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”
Sylvia Plath
Sia Jane Feb 2015
You filled my heart with angel dust
& emptied out any residing despair
for I had been cultivating a space where
veracious story tales restored trust
a guided path, taking us both beyond lust
asking myself, will I always be a passing affair?
the other woman captured in your snare
to later discover your reflection inheres in the knife I ******
so blindly in to your chest, whilst screaming; "You *****!"
for without the facilitation of pure light, my inner self remains so violent
unlike the days, I would sit in repent
no words from my mouth, I was always so silent

Oh, am I the one you so abhor?
And, am I the one who always festers in your torment?

© Sia Jane
I had to write a sonnet for class, and lets say, it was so so difficult. But I persisted and in the end, I wrote a list of words that rhymed in the abba abba cde dce and just used that.
Sia Jane Apr 2015
You woke me up with a kiss.
Gave me a place to lay my head,
upon a pillow you'd dressed in
blue; hand stitched with love.

Eyes gently open, the fresh
breeze of a new day touches
my skin, & in your eyes
I lose my heart.

The scent of yellow roses fills,
the empty spaces between
you & I. With a smile you
whisper good bye.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Mar 2015
Black & Yellow
                                             – for Wiz Khalifa  ✌

                        “Stay high like I’m supposed to do, that crown
                        underneath them clouds, can’t get close to you.”

On the first day, he was pushed.
Robust in stance, the other forced,
this boy down the marble stairs
of the Catholic church, the school
renovated the Summer before
Khalifa began his studies,
                  in junior high.
The ballet was his passion,
Latin was the language that so
fluently was spoken from
his lips. The Professor smiled,
another victory accomplished.
Khalifa’s mom was so proud of
            her blue eyed boy.
Rapped in a ball, he waited
for all students & halls to clear.
Rolled over, picked himself up
took to the washroom, knowing
he needed to be presentable
for his mom stood at the school gate,
           brimming with pride.
All of his dreams, mystical.
Don Quixote & The Nutcracker,
fluid streams of poetry;
Elliot, Poe, Wilde. The love
letters of Ludwig van Beethoven.
Born to dance all Principal roles,
                  a lovers’ prose.
By four, he was ready to
leave school. Tentatively walking,
no predators in sight, out
the main door. Leaving behind
a haunting first day. Listening to
Tchaikovsky; his release, his home,
                 his saving grace.

© Sia Jane
You might recognise the song title! A serious subject I know, with a degree of playfulness concerning what we CAN rise above in pursuing our dreams <3
Sia Jane Sep 2014
She was always a chameleon soul
Black Orchid
Eyes, shadows, vulnerabilities
Of heroine chic,
Juxtaposed with an embracing
Of mutual
Meshing voices from
The past
Nostalgic memories for
Behind the camera
A lady photographed
A younger self,
Mirrored reflections of
The lady she had graced
Into through the
Where contemplative deliberations
Iconic wonders, flashed through
Her mind
With each click the metamorphosis
                     ­   three
Twiggy, Edie, Kate
Transformations; a sorcerers magic,
           ­                       mind
                                   ­         soul
Mirages amidst reincarnations
Never a remnant of the same
For, the lady behind the lens
A ghost veiled in black;
The Black Orchid.

© Sia Jane

Dedicated & written for my darling friend Cara <3
For she shall know love <3
I am sorry I am so slow on the up keep. I am trying. Love you all <3
Sia Jane Jan 2015
The naked human, flesh & bone
brush strokes of pain, love, lust
some surrendered.

they rise above the surface, forcing
silver stripes, felt as Braille.

blind to my body, I trust the caress
with my eyes closed.

gentle touches read my body
the way in which I cannot see
when I open those eyes
and view myself through
glass mirrors.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Feb 2014
My skies were littered with,
Darkness, a bellowing cloud
Always dragging me up
To sit with him in thunder
And rain, not a rainbow or
Even cloud nine.

My body used to itch,
I'd scratch it raw until
Blood pooled around my
Back, face, wrist, scalp,
Until satisfied my feels, with
Pain and anguish, self inflicted.

I sat with that sharp razor,
Knives that had been, in
Kitchen draws so long, that
When I lift my shirt, dragging
Them across pale skin, nothing
Oozed, and the darkness stayed.

The knives were blunt, from
All the times I'd been stabbed,
Even butchered, by others betrayal,
And I never believed I could
Find a beloved who knows me,
The way you do, loving you.

Yet here I sit, a heart that,
Breaks, aches, and yet beats,
A lifetime of feeling, dancing
All night, remembering,
I will,
Love you,
Until the end

© Sia Jane


I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,
To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,
To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment, what is this then?
I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea.

-Walt  Whitman
Sia Jane Jul 2014
Maybe those afternoons,
were meant for,
that simple meeting,
amidst the quiet,
breviloquent chatter,
raw, uncompromising,
blissful uninhibited emotion.

Resounding cups,
mismatched china,
jasmine, rose, lavender tea,
celestial gardens,
plants; leaf-bearing
chinking lipped tea cups,
saucers pooling.

Immaculately intricate,
of Hadrian Denaruis silver,
an eighteenth century delight,
for ladies; un salon de thé,
sound waves wander as tea diffusers,
ritual & routine,
friendship & freedom.

© Sia Jane
I miss reading poems here so so so so much. I am so busy and too busy to even write at the moment. BUT I will be back around soon once things slow down. Miss you guys xxxx
Sia Jane May 2014
Lullabies no longer soothe,
The voices hiding,
Behind the many masks,
You've torn and tugged,
From me.

Empty bodies fuelled,
By self-masochism,
In truth the,
Hurting pleases,
One hit, two hit, fall.

The hurting pain,
A life time,
Of escalating,
Misery, woe is me.

It isn't a lie,
To wish for a,
Deadly game,
Of cross your heart,
Oh hoping to die.

Lost selves,
Blanket tears cried,
Telling tales of,
Kisses with,

Rendering love,
Better than none,
Crazy, bitter,
Mind so,

Those trusted few,
Never would they,
Have knew, how that,



© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Aug 2014
Never did I want saving
I realised; as thousands of moons
Had passed, in many
A long night,
That my saving grace
Was always myself,
Cast amidst a
Million stars,
Stood my Universe,
Night as inevitable
As day,
Sunset, as sunrise.
I never walked alone.
Despite feelings of,
Lonely, wanting someone
To very simply, hold
Because despite this,
Warrior front,
Is the child in me;
Peter Pan,
Wishing on the
Brightest star in the
So you see I never
Needed you to
Catch my fall.
I only wished
You'd allow us both
To accept how
We both fell.
Not into abyss,
But into the light
Of true life
& love.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Oct 2015
(I cannot determine who is the coil)
Heavy ropes wrapped around me
So tightly wound up I can feel
My chest cracking, brittle bones
Breaking in unison.

The sound echoes throughout my skull
My temples pounding
Burning up in flames
Desperate to be extinguished
Praying for the fire to move downwards
To ignite the rope, for the conflagration
To run dangerously out of control
My body a raging inferno of war.

My voice choked
There’s not enough oxygen
I’m being suffocated
And only smoke signals
Are emitted from me.

I’m trying to reach, someone
Or something, in the distance
No one can come too close
And anything is always too far
It’s the unfathomable truth
Of my existence.

(I cannot determine who is the coil)
I cannot be understood
Because every look from another
Disintegrates me
And I become nothing more than
A sheet of searing flames.

But every time I’m left alone
I’m always screaming within
My body eating itself from
The inside out
Penetrating pain never laying
Dormant, my skin
its vivacious host.

Heavy ropes wrapped around me
Forging incessant loops
Smothering me to the point
Of death.
(I cannot determine who is the coil)

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Sep 2013
She wraps her claws around me
An embrace I cannot resist
She has taken my heart soul mind
I'm trapped under & below her spell
Without recognition from her
I fall at her feet

Her beauty indescribable
Her heart as open as ocean waves
Hitting the shore & returning
Always in due course
Leaving me awaiting the touch
Of merely just a taste of water

She leaves with unspoken undertones
A beating empty heart left behind
Only desiring the sound of her voice
So tall strong, wrapped around me tight
Thinking she's the one to borrow the heart
Behind these blue eyes baby loved

Open to love, carrying a trusted heart
On the sleeves of her dress beaded close
Her offer awaits, her silent cries hope
For her heart, not voice, to be heard
By the one she has fallen
Under the spell of

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Oct 2013
She walks on water as the stars reflect
their shining brightness only lightening
her paradisiacal face and unclothed body
beauty may have it's layers, hers always
more than skin deep in the selfless benevolence she
gives forth in every interaction she herself
engages herself within,

In my years of wandering, I have never found
a soul I feel so compelled toward, frightening even
myself with my augmenting attachment and need
to hear her voice, feel her soul, listen to her heartbeat
to see her smile, and know her stories and tales from
the days that passed between the time we last spoke
my heart skipping beats,

An internal battle brings forth, an ever forging narrative
of realistic practicalities and the contrasting drifting
dream lands, entwined with fantasy and longing,
fears and hearts, left on the line, of a blurring demise
restore my heart, set me free, allow me to love,
let me

© Sia Jane

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”
Elisabeth Kübler-Ross
Sia Jane May 2014
Sketch me,
draw me in your mind,
project me onto your canvas.
colour me,
releasing the unquiet,
make me your,
unprecedented piece,
an ongoing life work,
perfecting all impurities,
eradicate all self-flagellation,
espouse a new desire,
akin to Basil's obsession,
The Picture of Dorian Gray,
infatuation lends to disillusion,
hedonistic pleasures,
soul baring to all sin,
intentions to please,
exonerate myself entirely,
you promised redemption,
not further damnation,
I'm Narcissus trapped,
painted reflections of self,
dying a thousand times,
devoted & absconded trust,
pulling it out,
hand in chest,
                       ­              poured

as Lector serves,

you feasted on my heart,
with the same delight.

© Sia Jane
I am so absent here and I miss you all and all your writings so much.
Very busy but I will find time soon to catch up xoxo
Sia Jane Feb 2014
Close your eyes, lock the doors,
close your mind, a prison bolt
slam it shut.

Monsters are knocking, haste
harassment, starved,
armies full, of them.

Flood, flushing, drowning
me out, a rat in a gutter
ignoring its snare.

Snarling, wishing to feast, my
blood they so crave, vampires
blood suckers of dusk.

Passing the dis-ease, my
executions pass, the dis-ease
of this very age.

Blood is dripping, empty
carcass stripped bare, feed
from all there is of me.

On the inside, still locked away
my soul was taken, nightly theft
you have all of me, ****** harm.

My soul sits, waiting, as you pass
by my street,
my family clones, embraced at home.

Drink me up, make it quick,
**** me dry,
dear Carmen please don't cry.

It's all an alibi, one that sings,
as a lullaby,
a secret way out.

Passages behind closed, library
doors, caging me, in this
locked out house.

Bourbon and *****, forced,
oozing through, pores

Alcohol weeps, tears,
skin cuts, red weapons,
a tyranny of pain.

Veins bleed, from single malt,
monsters watching me, cough
it all up.

Throwing a loop, I allow
them to jump,
through open shoots.

Private nights, protect me
from what I seek,
so desperately, a leak in the system.

A breach in oath, suicide presides,
my life starts to be,
brushed aside.

You made me this way, and I ask
why continue to stay,
you continue to make me pay.

My lover, my friend, my life,
it's nothing more,
than endless strife.

For you,
              for you
                           for you.

                                            I'd do almost anything.

© Sia Jane
Lets say I had a bad night last night and this is what came out of it.

"Wanderlust" by Sia Jane Lloyd available via all Amazon stores;=1392582925&sr;=8-1&keywords;=sia+jane+lloyd

Also visit:
Sia Jane May 2015
Wake up.
  The moons reflection beckons
    for me to tilt my head
She smiles glancing at me.
      I search the sky for
A zodiac amidst twelve
       across a celestial
The Enlightened children
        seek solace below
I am her daughter. A spec
          of dust wishing to
this Earthly realm.
I am a child of the moon
          & she is
            Earth Mother.

© Sia Jane
Finally just sat down to write <3
Sia Jane Apr 2015
A moonlit dance beneathe constellations
      not Taurus or Gemini, Delphinus or Orion
                 but stars we named together
                   linking lines from star to star
       hands pointing in air so cold
a tear falls and
  leaving a roadmap on my cheeks
            that you
                           ­            chase
   ­         lifting the palm of your hand
                 so cold to the touch I shiver
            feeling the beauty of my tears
         that glisten like Venus in the midnight sky
             of this cold Parisian night
  you smile in jest and
     I misplace the space
  between you and I and that sky
  whispering "do you love me?"
    how could I resist the beauty of
                 our second to last kiss.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Mar 2014
He may have caught, your stare first,
(Yet each glance she takes, she begs for more of this girl)
A single piece, of time to allow,
(To let her stare, meet this girl)
You could kiss me & see,
(She's not asking for red ruby wine lips)
You don't have to even kiss me, yet
(She wants you both to, capture, a moment in time)
Between your heart & mine
(Oh she offers it so divinely, promise)
I give to you love, I dare say, I can match
(She loves this girl with such depth, & force)
I become a twisted, a punctured heart,
(She's come undone, her walls tumble)
The ribs guarding my heart, break,
(Even if she fights, her mind is in flight
I cannot let go of, all the love I have for you,
(Her heart doesn't care, the risk it is taking)
Even my mind becomes, some what submissive,
(After all this time, she yearns to still call this girls hers)
And even as days & months pass,

I belong

(At least her weakened heart is)
In my hands, knowing I will care
(She will always secure a space)
For it will never be me who lays next to thee,
(A new day dawning, she awakens)
I'm lost and senseless
(She is trusting of you, still)
With, a heart I'm not sure, I can ever take hold,
(For herself to let go, of the fear, she always knew)

That to know pain
Is to know love

© Sia Jane
Typed on my phone with a cracked screen so I apologise for any mistakes ***
Sia Jane Sep 2014
I'm made of all;
The books I've ever read
Poems I've ever written
Faces who have smiled at me
Hugs that have wrapped around me
Caresses that have graced my inner thigh
Countries & continents my feet have touched
The lovers as we simultaneously reach ecstasy within
Lonely nights shedding tear drops
Nights gazing black skies moon & stars
Children falling asleep to my heartbeat
Animals whose soul was found through reflective eye stares
Conversations spoken in French, Spanish, Italian, Xhosa, Afrikaans, Norwegian, German
Years of ******-, cognitive-, dialectical-, art-, drama-, music-, mindfulness-, trauma-, psychiatry-; therapies
The drinks & drugs & mind altering substances dispersing my mind
In all I'm made of;

In all I'm made of;

A soul; securely contained within a body of battled scars;
pain & triumphs, losses & gains, rejections & acceptances, dishonours & accolades...

With the hope; she too, can live life through.

© Sia Jane
Written at 1.53am
Sia Jane Jun 2015
You catch stars from the sky
dropping them into my heart,
I can feel them fighting
to find space
in their new home.

They are hand picked
stars, you had named
with me that night,
they light up
in my chest, fill my ribs
& illuminate my eyes,
a yellow daze of love.

I can feel my body
become weightless,
you have enlivened my spirit,
& all I wish to do
is kiss your lips -
shooting stars passing
back & forth, from
one heart
to another.

© Sia Jane
Tonight's offering <3 trying to catch up with all your wonderful work! You all write so much!! <3
Sia Jane Feb 2015
All I have are
these photographs
without you.

thrown on the bed
you stare at me
through the
laughing clown &

the moon crescent
above my head
where baby doll

she glimmers
reflecting the moon
it's peaceful home
in a midnight sky.

you spoke to me
that night & I,
woke soon after
a breaking dawn
with my head spinning
somersaults of
greater fright than
those I tumbled through
on tortured weekends

skipping into class
weighed & deemed
good enough
gymnastic skill
my weight in gold
ticked & signed.

your shadow
followed me
to school &,
I even drew you
when the art teacher
simply asked;
draw what you dreamt
last night

that same day
teacher hung you
above the hall room
&, every lunch time
you would glare
&, every inch of skin
formed goosebumps
for if I dared eat
you'd know, because
you were always right

you took a few years off
fed on another girls
flesh, then another
I would see them
shrinking in size
slipping off to bathrooms
but then,
I was too naive
to know
but what I did know, was
they drew you in
similar ways, &
at home I would pray
that the monster
would be exorcized
on the page, as it had
for me.

I'm aged fourteen
standing in the garage
packed boxes in storage

maybe I found you
or maybe you led me
back, &
as I tore back tape
you smiled at me
laughing clown
baby doll

I jumped back in fear
you didn't care
I forced you down
&, I sat on the box
to hide your face
but you were already
by the garage door
&, right there
was the scorn.

you'd haunted me
every day
since I was born

I was the child you tore
from her home
you were the phantom
the ghost
the unwanted

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane May 2015
The sand swirled around her bare feet and she closed her eyes
shards of lava nestled in her skin, forming a shield
indigo shells catching light as a sun sets in the reflection
the moon rises in the east as the sun blazes orange
clouds chasing one another like puffs of smoke rising from a fire
is that us my love? is the fading of a day the love you had
letting go
letting go
letting go
is that us my love? are we losing, are we losing, are we lost?

© Sia Jane
Typewriter series <3
Sia Jane Oct 2014
Of course it was never her fault.
So many misgivings, so much insanity
Capacity to care floundered

Dispersed white powder fragments
Blow on broken glass tables
A surrendered white Christmas

Drawn matted curtains keep
Crystal blue skies and
Bright sunshine hidden

In darkness Dr Seus’
“How The Grinch Stole Christmas”
The stealing of innocence

A childhood
A prevalence greater than
Any Christmas

Her imagination only fuelled by
The blinkering television set
Thurl Ravenscroft’s voice penetrating her silenced soul

In a climate of disdain
Christmas spirit in shortage
How she lived alongside Cindy Lou

Her scarred heart, willing and eager
For just one taste
Of a day so sacred.

© Sia Jane
I have not written in so long. To think I was writing a poem a day!!! I am currently studying an MA in Creative Writing at MMU Writing School. It is crazy and I barely get chance to breathe along with other commitments.
I want to take time to read here, and I plan on this weekend.
I miss you guys and I miss sharing here.

This is my first "re work" of a poem I wrote a while ago.
I don't know if it is better or worse than the original as I have no clue how editing works. I am learning.
It is taken from the original;

Love you guys xxxxx
Sia Jane Jan 2014
Hold my hand dear Benjamin
don't let Professor Edwards
catch me in a dreamscape
challenging me off guard
as we sit in math class
hands clasped together
for when you knowingly
squeeze my hand tighter
scribbling with your right hand
the answer which is required
to be erased so as not caught out
but today as I look out
onto drifting clouded skies
I see the changes and I lose
myself in shapes and smoke
forging out homes, characters
stories into my past, present
and what could be in the future
nothing is taken from me, distracted
in an instant I'm Vivian Ward
racing around Hollywood
with my best friend Kit De Luca
who eats cold pizza for breakfast
and crawls the streets with me
hop scotching across the
Hollywood Walk of Fame,
five star terrazzo and brass stars, names of Hollywood greats
blonde, brunette elegance
Manolo's, mink coats,
jewelled necklines of emerald stones
we'd both dreamt as kids
Los Angeles; the City of Angels
we are the winged, we are the free
inhabiting the land of opportunity
the ladies of the night, grappling onto souls of kids, shared flat
with bunk beds and a closet filled
with 80's short tight spandex
leg warmers, faux gold earrings
bright coloured lingerie, leather bomber jackets, tutus...
oh and those perms and scrunchies
fake eye lashes, an 80's kid high as hell
being courted by an older wealthier man
living fast, dying young, a fugitive
of the land


The silence I succumbed to
bruised by a cacophony of bells ringing

"never change Lou lou!"

he winked and smiled
packing his rucksack
leaving for the day.

© Sia Jane

“She was the amoureuse of all the novels, the heroine of all the plays, the vague “she” of all the poetry books.”
Gustave Flaubert, “Madame Bovary”
Sia Jane Jan 2014
Sweet bitterness
Wicked heart
Soul struck
Customised pain
Drunk love
Stay alive
Tear drop
Frost bite
Haunted house
Setting fire
Yesterday's gone
Love me
Hate him
Let go
Lose me

Repeat as necessary...
Caution; broken heart club members only.
Preferably masochists.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane May 2015
I remember overhearing at the tennis game
  "I always take painkillers, I can't seem to get
                 the doctor to prescribe anything else
            and I never sleep, and so with my morning
              coffee, I slip some liquor in it
                      and take some Anadin, as simple as that."
      I sat and listened. Just in earshot.
            "It just calms me down and sets me off for the day."
              I see her take out a flask.
               Opening the lid she breathes in.
             "And days like this," she giggles.
         "I bring extra."
     Both the women now giggle
             I smile
              maybe this will work for me.

                    That night I went home and straight
                       to the medicine cabinet
                they sold paracetamol in tubs of hundreds
                   I was only 14
                   I'd only take a handful at a time
         not enough to harm me
                    little enough to go unnoticed
                         I felt the rush even before I took them
                         I still have the journal from that time
                   an off-balance teenager who never fit in
                         a longing for freedom so deep
                      maybe this could give me the wings
                             to fly.

© Sia Jane
More typewriter words. Format is how the typewriter print is and can be seen IG: thelunazine or FB: siajanewords
Sia Jane Apr 2014
Perish, perish, as all men shall
Who swing away, falling prey
A glass, a glass, shall it suffice
Who'll pay, the ultimate price
Of a feared, oh feared device
Addiction, control
Apathy, restraint
Fill me, fill me, straight to the brim
Whisper those lies, sweet lullaby
Secrets spell, promises, promises
Feed me a fable, tales, tales
Feed me forgiveness, let it go, go, go
Disallow my sorrow, empty
Comfortably numb


That old rule of thumb.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Oct 2013
Her hands are clasped
red polish chipped
nails bitten
cuticles teared

Her body covered
in cashmere wool
wrapped oversized
hands covered

Her legs are crossed
legs tugged under
tight safe
balled love

Her heart beating
glances lifting upwards
her thoughts
are lost

Her face softly smiles
at the beauty
she gazes
knowingly in love...

She knows she's in love
It's written all over her
Others reflect it back
There's no turning back
She's let herself fall
And fall she will continue
Cause this is real, more real
Than she could ever have known.

© Sia Jane
Sia Jane Dec 2014
I am kneeling;
Cold bath water
A lamb to the slaughter;
My eyes forced shut
My head tossing back & forth;
The weight of my hair
Knots when tumbled over my head
Dark nights.

See skies part
An intoxicating light
Each pink sky; an awakening dawn
Drinking myself to death
Haunted, glancing reflections bathroom taps,
Gasp, choke, drown sorrows,
Hearing the notes of my own beating heart
It fights.

Knock over the glass,
Sancerre douses the floor
Flooding sirens play, & dim the noise within
So grand;
Scream, a plea for death, last stand
Tears within
Porcelain hand held & gashes my skin
Hear me.

Must remain unspoken
A sinful hurricane drunk,
Standing in ferocious waves hitting empty shores,
Bodies in motion
The sky opens filling a roaming ocean,
A deep coldness resides
Your heart bleeds, your body stiffens, Mother Nature asserts, you abide,
Respecting she.

   © Sia Jane
Completely unedited and an attempt at referencing; Sylvia Plath - "Soliloquy Of The Solipsist"
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