Every second feels like a minute,
Every minute feels like an hour,

Every sip slows me down like
All the time that dies
Slowly around me.

Every sip I need to sink down and
Suffocate voices deafening within.
Every word you spat, they won't Stop.
Every light that flashes isn't you
Every moment passes with your
Silent.

Every moment needs to be soaked in alcohol for me to see tomorrow.
Every sip helps me forget how
Each moment will pass without You.

Two bands on your wrist,
Both different languages but both say,
Home, my home that you made your own.
You sit on the edge of your seat, controller in hand as you run around on screen and scream at a ball that's not really there but I love you for it!

I'm in the kitchen kneading dough watching you smile listening to you call out to me.

We've been through so much, grown together without growing apart.

It's our moments of love that I cherish the most. The kisses and the way you hold me is what I miss most. The way you make me laugh and how complete you make me feel.

I always leave a piece of me behind when I leave you...
only feel complete in those moments when we're together,
Together in a moment of love.

If your dream is to get married,
Yet his is not,
Do you give up your dream,
Or the guy you can't live without?

For what use is it to be married,
To anyone but him,
Such happiness would not be found
With anyone else, for the sake of a ring.

I'm lying here staring out the window,
The ground is not moving and
The house is not shaking.
Silence fills the air
Broken by the odd neighbour talking,
Not screaming,
The odd car purring past,
Not exploding,
Or the odd child laughing as the play,
Not crying
As they die.

I don't lie here on rubble
Or choke on dust and ash,
I know where my friends and family are,
And I'm not exactly strapped for cash.

I'll sigh this evening about work tomorrow
But at least I know I can get there in one piece,
That the building will most definitely be there and that the children I teach
Will arrive safely with all that they need,
And while we might groan about the daily grind
There are people, human beings, in Aleppo,
To whom that is all a distant memory in their mind.

I'm sorry.
Twas not my finger that pulled a trigger
Nor was it my signature that sealed the fate
Of an exploding bomb delivering destruction,
Death,
Loss,
Pain,
Suffering.
But I'm still sorry.

My sorry eyes have been blind but always teary,
Guilty,
Helpless,
Longing,
I see your pictures and ache to hold you,
Comfort you,
Soothe you,
Help you.
So sorry.

But I tell myself I need a car,
I need to save,
I need to eat,
I need to think of that trip home,
Christmas presents,
Next weekend,
I need the money but
You need to survive and
I need to wake up and instead of being
Sorry,
I need to be helpful.

We all do.

The ******* leaves,
Rustling outside,
The skip along the gravel
Making it scuffle
Like footsteps,
Your footsteps,
Teasing me.

Each time the noise
Falls upon my ear
My heart instantaneously
Beats, pounds
In my throat,
Suppressing the
growing lump which I've been
Trying to swallow for hours.

I don't know when you'll be back,
Or if you'll be back at all,
Your body will
But your heart seems to be elsewhere.

Something about the woven leather
Reminds me of sandals you once wore,
In the garden enjoying the sun.
Your shorts and that old cotton vest
the one that was probably once white,
but Nanny wasn't around to do your whites anymore,
and so it grew greyer as your hair grew whiter.

The sun's rays danced through the waves of your hair
and into the garden,
Filling it with light, shining down upon plastic flowers planted among coloured stones.
Smells of stale cakes from bargain stalls and the sugar from flat lemonade in murky cups wafted out the back door and clashed with that overpowering cooking smell as you sat in your sun lounger and baked yourself in vegetable oil, cooking your Irish skin to a crisp!

The flower patterns of your walls in the garden and cast iron patio furniture,
The plastic mat that covered the carpet and always managed to trip us,
The halogen heater in the parlour and blanket on your knees,
The clumps of bullseye sweets in your locker and Quality Street tin of empty wrappers,
The damp and stale smells of the kitchen in your care,
The holy pictures and moving Jesus on the stairs,
The bath marbles we loved to play with and how they'd smash upon collision,
And the pink, silk quilt that enveloped your bed,
They're all pieces in the mosaic that illustrates your memory now and they'll never be broken.
I've glued them so tightly together it's as strong as your jaw!
Your jaw, always known to make eyes water when you'd turn during a goodbye kiss on your cheek and crush our noses! Even when we tried to approach with caution! But oh what anyone of us wouldn't give to feel that again, just to say goodbye and think we'd be over to the Bluebell to see you again.

So now I sit and look at the woven leather on my sandals and remember all the details, all the memories that are woven together to make you. Sometimes I wish I could click the heels together.
Bluebell
Bluebell
Bluebell
And be back in that garden, once more.

Close the door,
Firmly shut,
Hear it click,
Locked away.

Pretend I'm not here,
I'm nowhere,
For I'm not where
I want to be
So
I may as well be nowhere.

I can hear them outside,
Talking,
Laughing,
Love,
Happiness, it's never been so
Heartbreaking.

My heart is filled with joy for them
Yet yearns for the joy I'm missing.
Disappointment consumes me for my eyes
Are not supposed to be green.
Never have I felt so happy for someone
And sorry for myself.

I took your ticket and
Pondered the number,
When might it be me?
Was a thought that I wondered
But now, as it seems, you want us to
Stay, not move on, just stay
As we are.

I thought I was playing a
Waiting game,
Anticipation of
Life
Linked in a love to be
Blessed.

Dreams of white
Danced round my head
And although I'm still twirling
It seems the music has stopped
And the wait is no more

For there is no other room
No other next level,
The door locked
And you hold the key

I could cry
Drown in tears
Try to swim through the keyhole
But I thought you were my ticket
Thought you'd let me in

I can't fight in the waiting room,
Nor beg you to move through
For if you wanted me, if you wanted to
You'd have taken my ticket and said
"I do too..."

My feet are planted in today,
But
My mind wanders into the past
And yet,
My heart yearns for the future.

You stood behind me, as we watched,
Hands cupping my face
As if they were holding something
So precious.

Your soft touch enveloped me and you leaned in,
Head nestled in my hair,
Kisses decorated my face,
My smiling face.

Your laughter filled my heart,
And all of a sudden I realised that my happiness
was from not the video we were watching but
The person I was watching it with.

Black words and White words,
Then there's Grey.
Grey words, because sometimes
Black words are too
Harsh,
Too crushing,
While White words
Can be too
Sharp,
Too cutting,
Too real.

I've always tried to stay clean,
Tried to whisper in
Words of white.
But it's like you're so used to being
Cast in a cloud of Black,
You can't see my white words,
They've been tarnished to
Grey... Black
And even all my tears
Can't wash them,
Or you,
Clean.

His words pierce my heart
Like a razor sharp dagger
Twisting in deeper with every
Apparent truth.

Pain surges through me like
A current of high voltage
But I do not bleed.

No, instead I feel everything drain from my body,
Like a balloon that's been pricked,
It doesn't go with a bang or pop with excitement.
No, it dies a slow painful death as
The air seeps from its body, leaving it
Gasping for breath.

I fear he's given me the kiss of life for the last time,
This time he will leave his words to resonate in me,
And as they resound within,
I shall wither away.

A watched phone never rings
And the longing within
Never ceases.

His fractured heart
I'll never heal
For I too am in pieces.

Useless and stupid
I've proven to be
No more than just another hindrance
Far from what I strived to be, a loving light that eases.

If only the hands of time
Raced by as quickly
As the thoughts in my head
Please
Bring this day to end
So I can crawl under my duvet
Find comfort
In the darkness
And wait for a message
That might never arrive.

The wondering
The questioning
The worrying
The thinking
The overthinking
The sleepless nights
The tired days
All my fault
Because once he said sorry
For what was his fault
I said ok, and so
The blame afterwards became
My own fault.

Jealousy is a loaded gun,
And you made each of their names
Bullets in my chamber.

The end of the barrel
Kisses me softly,
Between the eyes,
Where you used to.
And as you twirl them all round in a Russian Roulette
My finger quivers over the trigger.

Sweat makes it impossible to grip
And thinking back makes it
Impossible
To think forward...
What next?

You cocked it,
The gun,
So I'm ready to go.
I think...

Until, you reach out and try to save me.
Your hand touching mine
Losens my grip on the gun,
My finger becomes limp and I come back to life as
Your promises disarm me,
Your reassurance unloads the gun and
The bullets become evanescent in your kiss.

Have you ever had a day where it's just been
Bliss,
And waiting to end it is a welcoming home
Kiss...

What if the fairy tales happened today?
Would they still live
Happily Ever After?

What if Belle asked the magic mirror to show her the Beast and when it did it revealed that he wasn't there alone?

What if Jasmine found out that she wasn't the only one Aladdin was taking for a ride on his magic carpet?

What if Ariel checked Eric's phone and discovered Facebook messages which proved he wasn't over Ursula?

What if Tiana learned that Naveen was still a slimy frog, catching anything he could with his tongue?

What if Snow White wasn't the only who the Prince was Charming? Following and charming as many princesses as he could on Twitter!

What if Sleeping Beauty woke up to find Prince Philip Tindering while she slept!?

What if Mulan found out that all Li Shang really wanted was to come over for nothing more than "Netflix and Chill"!?

What if Pocahontas kept in touch with John Smith through snapchat and all he wanted were photos of her wearing nothing but the colours of the wind!?

What if Rapunzel was left in the tower because Flynn Rider wasn't bothered to climb the tower, suggested they FaceTime instead!?

What if Cinderella discovered dancing at ***** was just a one time thing? That her happily ever after was just cooking and cleaning for the Prince in a bigger castle!?

What if living Happily Ever After is as old as the fairy tales that created it!?

Only we'll ever know our story,
The full story,
Just you and I.

And only you and them,
Will ever know your full stories,
You and all God-knows-how-many-of- them.

But now it seems all our stories share pages,
Intertwining and overlapping,
And that's the most harrowing part for me,
Because I wanted one story,
Just you and me.

I dread to turn the pages,
To find out how this ends.
I fear a happy ending does not await us,
But what I fear more is that you're not finished
Writing stories,
Without me.

The only thing sadder than
Not believing
In soulmates...

Is not believing,
When there was a time where
You once did.

I colour in my lips and
Draw on a smile,
I paint my skin and
Hide behind it all for a while.

I outline my eyes and
Shade them in,
Use dark colours and
Black lines so thin.

Sleek strokes of the brush and
Warm, rosy cheeks of pink blush,
Create the illusion that this is all real,
This laugh, this smile, this glow,
Yes,
Forget what's true, forget how I feel.

Can't we just put our phones down,
Turn them off,
Turn each other on
Mentally, Physically, Emotionally.

Talk to me,
Remember me?
I hope one of us does because
I've forgotten.

I'm lost,
I need you to find me...
If you could just look up from your phone...

The glass kisses my lips,
And the waves dance upon my tongue,
They burn ever so beautifully as they
Crash and break at the back of my throat,
Washing down, down, down.

My lips long for that sweet taste,
My mind yearns for that sweet embrace,
My heart aches for that sweet, sweet, sweet escape.

But I have to be careful,
Or I'll end up like him, and I can't do that to her,
She raised me better, better than that, better than he did her.

The twist of the cap or playful pop of the cork
Brings such sweet release,
But I fear I will render myself victim to it,
For as much as I want to,
It's not fair to them,
And so I stop and wait and find excuses,
Excuses, excuses.

It's like sitting on your porch on a beautiful day,
The sun bursts through the sky,
Its glorious rays caressing every inch of my skin,
Sunlight dances through my hair and across my face
Tweaks each side of mouth into a Chesire grin.

As the warmth swirls and leaps within it
Sweeps away the withering buds, the dead flowers,
And scatters hope and joy in their place.

But then the darkness sets in,
Clouds roll in thundering, screaming,
They shroud the happiness and bleed it dry,
What was blossoming gasps and shrieks to
Nothingness.

The darkness makes your front porch seem so distant,
I'm alone
In this darkness
As ice dances unruly upon my skin
And frost seizes my mind.

The sun is consumed, its golden aura
Cannot break through
The clouds are too thick, too dark,
It's gone
And all I can do
Is pray.

I will never speak
With her voice,
My words don't waft an air of intelligence,
They neither hypnotize nor engage you,
As hers do.

I will never look like a movie star as she did,
My hair doesn't fall softly around around my face
It curls and frizzes,
It's wild, not calm,
I can't mesmerize you with my glamorous beauty,
Nor catch your breath and hold your gaze,
The way she does.

I will never hear your words float on air to me,
A song so sweet, like her,
Closing your eyes as you sing, your muse takes shape.
My fingers don't pluck your heart strings like hers,
Your songs are for her ears alone.

I will never spark your love the way she did,
Your passion for me will not produce searing flames that crackle and burn, sending fire burning through every inch of your being.
Instead I burn my fingers as I kneel at the edge of your dwindling fire, trying to ignite some sort of fire from the embers of the flames you once shared.

I'm playing with fire and I'm getting burned,
But no cream will heal my wounds
So by your fire I'll stay, and play
Until someday you burn what's left of me
And scatter my ashes in the the dust.

What's your choice of poison?
Fill a cup, drink it up.
Feel it rush down your throat,
Like a mighty waterfall surging through its path,
Life bubbling within.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath,
Inhaling deeply, lungs bulging,
Feel your airwaves open up
Blossoming into life, reborn.

Revelry consumes me,
Renews me.
Waterfalls rush inside me,
A deafening noise so comforting,
drowns out the problems sporing inside me,
Washes them away.

I lose myself in the music,
The beat of the baseline renders within,
Makes me feel like I have a heart again.

My poison seeps to the darkest corners of my mind
Blasting a light so strong I forget I ever cared,
And so I lose myself, and
Escape.

The piece of paper I found in your wallet,
Cut me deeper than any piece of paper should,
The words inscribed on there were
sharper than its edges.
Those words stayed with me even when the paper seemed to
Disappear.

The piece of paper you took out of your wallet,
Yet you didn't throw it away,
No,
Instead put it in a safe place...
To keep.

The piece of paper with your name
And a heart
And her name,
Not mine.

Sometimes it's not an upgrade that's needed,
You don't need to change, but instead
Change back.

You don't need to upgrade but be
Restored.
Back to the old you, the real you.

The boy who loved, unconditionally and openly,
Who sang songs and wrote poems,
The boy you've locked away inside,
Each shattered love adding to the bars on your jail,
Each broken heart becoming a stone building your wall higher
Each song filled with heart ache echoing through the cell that's become what's left of your heart.

I don't want to change you,
I want to restore you.

Breathe
When it gets too much
And you don't know if you're the one
That he's singing about.

When he thinks you're drunk cos you're eyes are pink...
But your eyes are pink from fighting tear that burn at the brim!

Just can't fight this lump in my throat
But most of all I just can't cry in front of you again.

There's times I feel I'm going insane,
things that shouldn't affect me, do.
They bubble and boil within,
until I feel them at the brim,
ready to burst out into the air,
into the ears of those around.

When my madness consumes and spreads,
its path is full of concealed destruction.
I scramble back and try to mend the fractures,
shards that resist to fit back to together the way they once did.

And so I seek blind ears,
Ears which listen but do not speak,
Ears which listen but do not judge,
Ears which hear me but do not see me,
Blind ears.

Why must we fall for people when they keep standing tall?
While I feel collapsed in a ball at his feet he seems to be
towering above me, a force I cannot break.

He is the lighthouse, high on a cliff,
and like many, I'm drawn to his endearing light,
However, like this light he rotates round and round,
only seeing me every so often.

When he beams his light on me I feel found,
wanted,
but oh too suddenly darkness envelopes me once more
and my words to him crash and break like waves upon the shore.

A smile is a band-aid,
We use it to cover the cracks,
Trying to mend a broken heart.

For every pang of pain,
For every memory that escapes
- runs free in your mind,
His laugh echoing,
His stare engaging,
His smile enchanting,
His touch enveloping,
His scent embracing,
For each of these searing memories that burn through
your mind, your heart,
You laugh.

For if you don't laugh your pain away,
The only other way to extinguish the burning of that dwindling fire,
Is with tears, but you can't do that now,
None left,
Empty.

Georgia Porgie pudding and pie?
Nah! More like...

Crazy, crazy, deluded and shy,
Kisses the boys who make her cry.

Cos when other girls come out to play,
All those boys run away.

Pressure has me blinded,
I'm consumed by shapes and sizes.
Beauty of the world is lost in a blur.
Numbers whizz round my head,
Just want to be a perfect ten.
No longer is it people I see,
just their shapes and sizes,
Where do I fit in?
Why, oh why can't I be thin.
Perfect straight lines or
Bulging lumps, soft and round,
I'm obsessed with my shape and the
Size of the shadow I cast upon the ground.

To write is to release,
For speaking is awaiting critique,
Words on paper- give them thought,
They'll give you peace.
No reply needed.
Words in the air however, they seek ears,
Firing a response, be it helpful or not.

No.

Put it in words. Just for you.

The chase is over,
Though it never really began.
There wasn't much of a game for you,
Was there?
Thus the prize lost its lustre,
Lost your lust.
And so you continued to chase,
Eyes wandering elsewhere,
Secretly seeking other prizes,
Real achievements to you.
As I gathered dust on your shelf,
Polished when you needed me.
I will eventually fade into the background,
Phased out by new trophies,
Bigger and better.