A flurry of coloured bags
Lying carelessly in the doorway
The happy ones congregate in the grass
They laugh and they dance
Because they can

A silence of turning pages
Throat constricted too tight to eat
The other ones congregate in the shade
Feeling out of place there
Because they can’t.

Home alone for twenty minutes
Taking apart stationary
No pressure,
just a clean swipe
It’s sickeningly easy

Simply crossing a barrier
That was formerly invisible
At 13 years old
She says
“I would never do that”

It isn’t a happy release
It doesn’t make her feel good
Nor is it feeling
Anything but numb
It’s the hurting that she values

Little red dotted lines
Like ink on printer paper saying
‘Cut here’
With kiddie scissors
Staining loo roll and tissues

It’s all some sick damnation
From herself to herself
Why do you
Look like this
She can’t stand the sight of you

The rows of bluebells
Will still be there next spring
Urging you to get better

You were still there to pick them
And lay them on her casket
You were still there to watch
The years’ dance trickle by

She may have withered with
The bluebells that sad spring
But you’ll be there to see them
Come again
And again

You can blossom with them every spring
My dear,
You’re still alive

You probably stood outside the door at CAMHS on rainy days
Bought 2 for 1 cookie deals at Morrison’s
You probably slotted your crap Sony earphones in on your way down
And looked down at the docs on your feet

There was a pulse in your wrist and under your chin
Evidence that your heart was beating
Your nerves were sending messages around the paths
Move your muscles, blink your eyes

You were a miracle just like everyone else
Hair tickling and chest rising and falling and fingers tapping
And nose sniffing and knees knocking and nails scratching
Living, breathing
Alive, alive
Until you weren’t.

At a point I want to hold your hand
I want us to be together, one
Then my feelings change and twist around
Afraid this battle cannot be won

If you touch me I would like to scream
I promise this isn’t your fault
I cannot feel the same as you
So lock me in some vault

This pretty picture, lovely in my head
I can’t act it out to reality
I don’t want you near me, let me free
There’s something wrong with me

You’re a sweet and lovely guy as it goes
I’m sorry I’m your pick
But I can’t continue anymore
I’m starting to feel sick.

The hydrangeas are starting to die now
The clouds are filling with rain
The kids have new-school anxiety
And we’re all filling with pain

The novelty is starting to die now
I’m already tired of faces
The leaves are falling from branches
And I’m already out of aces.