I hear your voice in the breeze,
As your heavy sigh wraps around me:
A little too familiar,
A little too cold.

I wonder if you hear me too.
The messages I whisper into the wind:
A little too longing,
A little too hurt.

And, maybe in the future, I will look back,
When the icy blast is gone
And realise,
Sometimes the best place to be is in the Maelstrom.

Hanna Jones Dec 9

I just want to pour out,
Spill over the sides.
A mess of silver and black.

I just want to act out,
Lose my damn mind
And not care about consequences.

I just want to scream out,
The vibrations echoing for miles.
The rumbling in the ground telling me this is real.

I just want to reach out
And feel your hand grasp mine.
Your warmth evaporating my tears.

I just want out.

Hanna Jones Dec 8

You only ever said ‘I love you’ when my back was turned.

You only ever smiled when I was crying.

You only ever seemed to care when I didn’t.

It’s been a long week.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

Hanna Jones Dec 7

I can see through your pink-tinted glamour.
See the way you use.

Your disguise has holes and I am a magnifying glass.
Strong enough to see the flashes of contempt on your face.
To see those calculating thoughts whistling around your pretty head.

To see the way you manipulate.

The way that, just when I’m on the end of my string, you tug a little harder.

Well, this time I’m not taking the bait.

Hanna Jones Dec 6

My heart is hungry,
Desperate to feed.
Food will not fill its bottomless stomach.
No, it wants something more sinister.

My heart seeks out its own kind,
The beating, bleeding epicentre of you.
It will wrap its bloody arteries around yours and yank on your heartstrings.

You don’t have a hope.

It will devour every part of you that you love
Until my heart is all you can see,
All
You
Can
Think.

And as your body fails, your heart too worn to sustain your existence.
With your dying breath, you will call out the three words that will finally fill my stomach.

Unsure about this one.
Hanna Jones Dec 4

Strip me down
To my rawest form.
To my browns and oranges.
A copper silhouette.

Peel me away
Till I’m standing there
With averted gaze.

Leave me bare
Just ingredients
With no recipe.

Strip me down
Lose all my layers, till I’m
Just a component.

Make me an idea,
In its first happening.
A dream yet to be realised.

Look at me,
Honestly,
Unguarded.

In my essence,
Am I good?

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