Sitting here on the rooftops,
I watch the sun set over the city.
A single, fiery red ball
Staining the surrounding clouds a bright pink.

The wind, herald of the upcoming storm,
keeps playing with strands of my hair
which hangs over my shoulders like a veil
heavy, warm, protecting.

And I give myself up to the daydreams.
The distant rattling of the train
paints the image of you sitting in it
just on your way to see me.

I can almost feel your warm touch on my shoulder
and hear the reproval in your voice
telling me, I must be crazy
to sit in the cold like that.

My eyes closed, I'd start explaining,
how beautiful the world seems upon dusk.
How the blue hour makes all the colours burst.
How the clear air seems to fill every cell of your body.

I'd breath in your sweet, well-known scent
as you sit down next to me on the roof,
I'd put my arms around you
to keep you warm while you huddle closer.

No need to tell just how much I missed you
or how months can turn into years.
Together, with a mix of melancholy and ease
we wait for the close of the day.

Then I open my eyes to the pitch black,
shivering for the want of your touch
and the comfort of your presence.
Once again sobered by the incipient rain.

You’ve given me life
And raised me on your own
Because my father’s in jail
And you always felt alone

When I was young,
You paid attention
You gave me love,
And so much affection

As I grow older older
You only grow colder
Brush me off your shoulder
Then blame me as our lives molder

You tell me I’m selfish
And call me a liar
Your love is my one wish
My deepest desire

I crave your approval
But I’m never enough
All I get is reproval
And I can’t take it

I truly believed
You’d be relieved
And you wouldn’t grieve
If you lost me

Because my whole life
You’ve shown little respect
All I did was hurt
And all you did was neglect

You saw what was happening
As the man you married put his hands on me
And yet, you just stood there
You watched as I was beat

When you had found out
That I was harming myself
All you did was shout
And said all I wanted was attention

When in reality, I did it to feel
Because your neglect numbed me
I wanted to know I was real
And you told me you hated me

You said there must be something wrong with me
To need that much attention
So you agreed to take me to therapy
Where I was diagnosed with depression

You stormed out of there
Saying “you have no reason to be depressed”
But you didn’t know me at all
All the feelings I’d repressed

How could you not see
What you were doing to me
All I wanted was to flee
I wanted to be free

I sunk into a hole
Of darkness and pain and anguish
It swallowed me whole
And you left me alone

Then one day you said
“Why don’t you talk to me?”
And I said “Because every time I try
You never listen, just scream.”

“That’s *******, Grace!”
You screamed in my face
I said, “This is my point.”
All I did was disappoint

No matter what I did
I wasn’t good enough
No matter how hard I worked
You made everything rough

“Mother knows best”
I don’t know about that
It took me so long to be happy
And this is a fact

You didn’t try
You made me say goodbye
To the few people who cared
You made me feel scared

I didn’t feel safe
You’re my biggest fear
At night I’d lay awake
Wondering “Why am I here?”

I reached rock bottom
And once I was there
I knew how to dig myself out
It made me aware

I stopped trying so hard for you, Mother
And I instead tried for me
And since then I’ve been thriving
I’m finally on my feet

Because after years of falling
And nobody calling
I knew what I needed
And that I wasn’t conceited

I wish I could say
My mother helped in some way
But she just dragged me down
At the end of the day

So I believe
That I know best
What’s best for me
Now I can get some rest

I can now be happy
With those who stand by me
And for them I’m so grateful
I don’t have to feel shameful

Heart broken
wounds open
words left unspoken

head pounding
heart ache hounding
tissues mounding

go NO stay
please come play?
Let me see your insides
lets see where the pain hides
take down your confines

I am a child again craving his approval
watching my hearts removal
all the whilst his face scrunched in reproval

am I ugly on the inside too?

Thoughts racing
pain facing
its okay babe but this may sting

cutting deeper, oh god whats left
you've taken it all my heart, my life, my breath

just a little more princess
dont stress
the way I make you feel in between shall repress

all the times you said goodbye
all the lows but never the highs

ill make you feel new again
dont fight me, its all in vein
I promise this one last cut and no more pain!

Drunk on Hirschorn lawn,
all the sculptures rise
& take to air, bronze over bronze.
She floats the cocked corner
of my eye, a wince under glint
of gangly windows glazed
blankly across glossy estate.
Drunk again at noon, drawn
in by hurt - she surprises
with reproval - though it spawns
first in the self-soul, first mourner
at the living funeral. O Jennie, minting
through this garden with cotton grace,
tolerate a dazed smile today, amid the statuary.

I show you my heart and you shut me down,
‘That isn’t art’, you say, you frown,
‘I know that is true because i am a god
I can determine what’s art and what’s not.’

Do you want me to apologize and nod in submission?
Should I have used another juxtaposition?
Should I have adhered to a regular verse,
Iambic pentameter, rhetoric, curse?

‘Rhyme like an artist’, you say upon this,
‘Do it then’ i snap, ‘speak to me in sonnets,
I beg you, convey to me all of your losses,
Then try to woo me with caesural pauses.’

I say ‘Teach me what a verb is
and where I should place it,
And feed me a preferred list
of syntax arrangements.’

‘No, no, please, do mention once more,
What is a motif and what is it for?
How do I read and how do I spell?
Oh, please let me know, because you do it so well.’

‘Let me down gently because you know I can’t stand
A slap of reproval from your masculine hands,
One bad word about me and you fear i might shriek,
Or claw out my eyes, this emotional freak.’

‘Here’s a metaphor for you (or at least so i think
Silly me can’t tell the pen from the ink)
In this metaphor i am the man with the boot
And you are the cockroach crushed under my foot.’