Here are my eyes
my fried eggs
teal lily-pads floating
on white albumen.

Here are my elbows
like deformed peaches
my knuckles the peas
wrist corn on the cob.

Here are my teeth
my frosty Stonehenge
a ring of slabs
solid halibut.

Here are my ankles
four gobstoppers
cracking as rocks
under her size-five feet.

Here is my nose
fastened to my face
the garbage chute
meets hoover hybrid.

Here are my knees
two wrinkled potatoes
mashing in their sockets
as waves crumble on me.

Here is my hair
my straw candyfloss
unlike her buttered popcorn
curly-wurly waterfall.

Here are my tonsils
squashy strawberries
wedged at the back
of the cave I once made.

Here are my lips
azalea-pink sweets
flecked with salt
from our slice of sea.

Sweet treats just for me
I need to get some money
Sweets, they are not free

Sweets treats just for me
To the shop, I run so fast
Don't stop to think, go

Sweets treat just for me
Eyes look through the glass
Curly wurly yum

Cola bottles yum
Sherbert dip is so delish
Too much sugar, sick.

I once stood in the middle of a motorway at 3am
just for fun,
I told myself, just for fun -
But I don't think it was, now I'm okay
I still sway, dream of far away but I get my exams done,
so I don't let my mother down again
so I don't hide inside from remaining friends.
I keep myself planted, smile slanted, half frown -
and I don't make a sound until I mean to,
until I breeze through,
until I need to,
this is the studied truth of the newly grounded.

I'm not into rushing things these days,
I mean I still do but less so in less ways
and my mind's all curly wurly and I have resting ***** face
and skin like a coffin -
I still can't get up early, still feel displaced
a little too often -
but this is my city now and I don't want to leave or get out,
because this time I am okay
and I'm dealing
and my anxiety still leaves me reeling
but I'm not panicking as much or screaming
and my pillows are the only ones who don't believe me.

Still,
everything is temporary, in constant flux
fresh cut grass and students in class
sunsets and sunrises
church bells and waist sizes
metal and petrol and monster trucks,
and it's all beautiful,
that's the most important thing you'll ever find out -
it's better to shine bright without background doubt
than to disappear into the darkness,
the dark mess,
I mean, I still want to run and shout but now
it's more writing my thoughts down and actually seeing the day
and not 3am standing in a motorway
telling myself, just for fun.

This is not the barrel of a gun, hard and cold
it's not the answer it's not made of gold
it's not a solution, it's the end of it all
and I don't know if we rot or acsend,
but it wasn't just for fun,
it was leaving the motor running,
it was something I was running away from -

Life,
it isn't easy, it's not like saying 'it's okay'
when it's not yourself you're telling
and when it's you, it can't be told or shown
you have to push hardest when you're alone
because finally, once clear of fear's icy gripping hands
I came to understand
that life is beautiful, even when it's sad,
it's the best thing I never knew I had,
so I started living,
just for fun.

I'm not done, you see?
I'm not done.