Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tommy May 2018
how many words are too many
to describe the wrongs inflicted on my body?

all it took from my mouth
was just one utterance
to tell you it was wrong

your election to ignore
left the words trapped in my mind
too many more have since
denied me my voice

how many words
are too many
for me to explain
that if they don't leave my brain
i might collapse under their weight?
I was brought up to protect my body. I thought my words could be my armour
i have since learnt my body is a battlefield, and words aren't enough to protect me
  May 2018 Tommy
mari j
i am so small
compared to the mountains
i am so little
compared to the sea
i am so tiny
in comparison to the islands
and i am so large
compared to what i thought i would be
Tommy May 2018
I don’t believe it that the man made of cheese lives on the moon. Last night he crept into my bed, demanding sausages. “*******”, I said, but he wouldn’t leave. He sat, for the rest of the night, on the edge of my bed. A a pair of glowing binoculars in his sweaty fingers, he stared up at the moon. He does want to go there. He says it must be where he’s from. “There’s no food on the moon.”, I told him, my voice heavy with sleep. He began to cry. I told him to go back to his own bed.

2. I asked the King for permission to leave my bed. He told me “No.”, firmly, so I stayed put. My eyes grew heavy once more, under his spell, and I was back in the grasps of the shadows. They reach through my window in the night, they pull past my curtains and seep slowly into my lungs as I breathe. The King rules the world of the night. I merely beg permission to lay my head to rest. At his feet. I’m not sure this is where I belong, but I can’t sleep any other way.

3. I lost my fairy wings in a duel with a raven. Taken in by the electric silk of his feathers, I fell into an oil well. My fingers coated, I lost my grip. As my heart beat picked up, panic rising through my oesophagus, I gulped down the thick molten lies. Glinting in the sun, I thought it melted gold. Now I have lost my voice, I realise I was just a fool. I have forgotten how to breathe. The raven’s claws pierced through my skin and as my blood merged with the oil, I forgot where I ended and this pain began.

4. I rode on the back of a brown bear. I was cradled in the warm fur during the cold nights, and the strong claws never once broke my skin. I felt safe. I told the bear “I have something I need to do” and I tried to leave, just for a few days. The bear grabbed my hair and tore me back. I pleaded for my freedom, and the bear began to wail. Am I indebted to him? Do I owe him my life now that he saved it? Maybe I should return there, to those dark depths once more. At least then he’d know I wasn’t going anywhere.

5. The man made of cheese sits at the end of my bed, again. In his hands are a plate of greasy sausages, bursting with fat. I ask if he wants vegetables, and in between scoffs he sends chunks of cooked meat flying across my clean sheets. I wish he’d listen to me. I told him I didn’t want him here, and yet, here he sits. If I still had my wings, maybe I could fly far from this kingdom of ether. The spirits are up my nose, working their fumes into my brain.

6. The man made of cheese sits, drawing up blue-prints for a catapult. I lie half-awake, waiting to fall into that deep hypnosis. Waiting until I’m cushioned by the suffocating darkness of the night, the only place where I can dream of the real world. If only I could remember how it was that I arrived in this ulterior universe. Send me down another rabbit hole. Maybe I’ll find peace down there.
Tommy Jan 2018
A fire rises from behind that hill on the horizon,
The trees silhouetted in front of the roaring light
As the the tide creeps closer and closer
Bringing a cool blue across the land
A clash of forces battling fiercely
All on her front doorstep.

No wonder she's so stubborn,
Learnt her ways from the dramatics of nature
In the house we all call home
Married into a clan of warriors, and born of the same stock
Her life has been a dance through the land of time
Nothing stays the same.

As the shadows of the sunset climb their way
Across the hillsides and down below the grass
The trees remain illuminated, glowing orange
Their empty branches reach towards the light
         and catch it at their fingertips
Stealing it away for themselves, sending pockets of steam billowing above our heads
She said she might not come back next year

With gravel in our mouths we said our goodbyes
Held on just that moment longer
A lingering panic in the air - she might be a woman of her word-
But her army are rallying at her sides
Ready to fight her battles alongside her
A shimmer of hope gleams softly at the edge of the room
(refracting through the water bottles in the corner)

Stay a little longer
Tommy Jan 2018
A daisy chain love letter for a love that never was
Wrap it in a silk envelope
Sealed with pure honey
Tie a few balloons to it
And watch as it floats away
High above the candyfloss pillows
Of this cloudy, cloudy day.
She won’t be coming back
Tommy Nov 2017
Orange clouds,
Behind them a blue sky
As the sun sets below us
The bell tower rings twice

As the town gathers their belongings
And sets off now to bed
I'll stay up many hours more
The wicked need no rest

The steeps of the buildings
Loom silent above my hood
A long cape trailing behind me,
I tip-toe away, fingers dripping in blood

I didn't mean to do so much wrong,
I didn't want no harm or damage
They were just a few small rocks,
Placed before her horse drawn carriage

She didn't deserve such a tragic end,
She lived her life so much better than I
And yet still she crossed my path
And mine were the only eyes to watch her die

Red clouds,
Behind them the sky turns purple
I'll never return home again
Every step another towards that looming inferno
Next page