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Sara Apr 2020
Love is patient, love is kind
love is pain, just in disguise.
Sara May 2014
it's cold and dark and calm outside
so you make sure that i'm tucked up tight
but i need fresh air so the window is open ajar
whilst there in the corner lays a battered guitar

i'm high as hell so you carried me home
and wrapped me up into a bed of your own
you throw a lumpy mattress by the guitar on your floor
and apologise in advance for the fact that you snore

because i can't even remember my name
may give the green light to most, to see me as 'fair game'
my hair is a mess and my clothes are askew
but that doesn't seem to matter to you

i'm taken aback as you toss me a shirt
you try to stifle your laugh but i catch you smirk
as i try to escape from the clutch of my dress
i hear a laugh which you fail to suppress

i wrestle your shirt with my limbs in a tangle
you yank it over my head, for which i am thankful
i wriggle free from the blanket and sit up cross legged
as you fling yourself down at the foot of your bed

you tell me you've just got a text from my mother
who says she trusts me with you and no other
and that you are under very strict instructions
to keep me away from all teenage destruction

it's 1.30am and my thoughts are cotton wool
but our bottle of ***** is still three quarters full
my eyes spy the battered guitar in the room
and i beg you to play me my favourite tune

an undeniably slow start as you mess up the chords
and ramble on about how i'm probably bored
but my eyes fix on yours with an encouraging grin
and as you continue to play, goosebumps rise on my skin

and as you place the battered guitar back down
you sarcastically ask whether i'm happy now
the buzz of my body and the smile on my face
shows that here, happiness is truly the case
2018 edit and I’m still finding guitarists cute um
Sara May 2014
i try to move on
but you're in every place i look
you're the flowers in the garden
you're the pages in my book

i try to move on
but i see you everywhere
you're the bluebird in the birdbath
and i feel you in the air

i try to move on
but there's really no escape
you're the coral in the ocean
you're the fish found in the lake

i try to move on
but i fear that it's too soon
you're the ticking of the clock
and the peeling paint that's in my room

i try to move on
but i feel you in the night
you're the words i can't choke out
and you're the shadow to my light

you're the daisy chain i made
you're the glasses that i lost
and it really is a shame
because i loved you quite a lot

not a whisper, not a sound
but i feel you all around
Sara Mar 2018
The thunder claps loudly
but the following silence is heavier.
Two sets of eyes search for comfort in darkness
-they're blinded when the sky blinks red again.
The clouds sigh green,
it's not deep- you're 16
but you sigh, when
you're asked
to repeat
what you said
again
found this poem in an old notebook
Sara May 2018
We're only made to take so much;
the sand runs out, the hour's up.
For some, one life is not enough
to take advice yet give back love.

Some live to take; their hands are rough,
their blood is blue, their minds are tough.
Though they are humans just like us,
the seat fits two, still they won't budge.

We don't mind though, 'cause we can stand
but they still shoot us off fair land
and laugh and lie and watch us run,
then claim that they're the injured ones.

Drunk on love we couldn't see
that kindness only fuelled their greed.
For lies sleep sound under their tongues
and rot 'til teeth become golden.

Their shadows cast two different shades.
They twist and turn in makeshift shapes.
Feast at my table. Eat my brain.
For after all, we give, you take.
.
Do you give or do you take?
Sara May 2014
And they call it puppy love
just like a trojan horse
a gift sent from above
only, in the end, to be torched

You long to be longed for
desire to be desired
it's the illness with no cure
a 'strength' to take you higher

Advertised by society
it promises you everything
abundant in variety
an agreement sealed with a ring

There's a reason they call it 'falling'
As what goes up must come down
so don't tell me you had no warning
when love leaves you dead on the ground
Sara Jun 2018
You make me feel like
I can be honest
but if you want,
just say the word
and we'll drop it
         .
I'm sorry
that I dropped you,
it's just something
I can't not do
and it's not you;
I don't plan it,
this bad habit,
it just happens.
It just happened
to involve you.
            .
And I know I
can't console you
because each time
I call your phone,
I rub salt
deep
into
old wounds.
            .
And every night
you go to sleep,
you feel me
naked
in your sheets.
So you let songs
I'd hate
run on repeat-
like you
no longer think of me.
              .
And I would do
the same thing;
if I'd ever been
that mean to me.
bit of a Larkin day
Sara Aug 2018
I'll see what I can make
out of the leftovers I have.
Although, it's never too long
until the milk turns bad,

until a love turns sour
in an online second;
since, an online minute
wastes a real-life hour.

But in a snap-shot moment,
I can find life for weeks
on my stash of sugar truths,
until I forget to eat;

forget to breathe;
'til I don't even need to sleep
because the lovehearts on my photos
sing such soft melodies.

And despite the fact
that often I can't sit at ease,
somehow this perfect madness
always tastes so bittersweet.
a poem about the addictive nature of social media
Sara Apr 2018
Deep down I know what I'm searching to find
I race through the trees but there's nowhere to hide
I follow the scent but it all smells like pine
I look hard for the truth, but then lock it outside.

I leave it shaking, shivering, cold
on a mountain top where the four winds blow
Until I start drinking; warm, inside, alone
then I'll unlock the door, invite truth to come over.

"You can't stay for long", but he takes a seat
and comfortably downs a large gulp of my drink.
My lips to his neck and his tongue to my mouth,
in the thick of it all, it all somehow comes out

What I want, what I need
Things that I couldn't see
Things I ran from, tripped up on so frequently
Labelled them nightmares, just too scared to dream;
I learned to stop running when truth came to me.
don't run I guess is the moral of the story
Sara Dec 2018
you don’t owe anybody
                        emotionally,
            other than
yourself.
Bin
Sara May 2019
Bin
You can try to water dying flowers,
and they’ll keep upright, alive for a week.
Convince yourself the fresh scent will come back.
Has rotten ever smelled so sweet?
move on and refreshh
Sara Jan 2019
I'm writing less
but posting more,
confusing what's
sure and unsure.
I'm missing windows
and shutting doors;
in vain, for all that's been before.
f o r w a r d
Sara Mar 2020
since lies are sweet
and the truth is bitter
i'm not surprised
i liked you better
Sara Jun 2018
She washes her hands in egg whites,
picking out stray shell pieces.
Sitting as still as the morning- quiet,
while the kettle sets itself a-steaming.
She hears that same Chinese flute
drifting down the hallway,
slipping universal truths
under each hotel room doorway.
She looks to the rain in the hills
like sorrowful sailor's wife;
a day could be time for a dream fulfiled
or the time that the rivers run dry.
I honestly have no idea why this took such a turn, I think I must be hungry
Sara Oct 2019
a volatile, drunken live wire
exhaling smoke, and spitting out fire
they tell her softer, sweetly be;
reminders only ignite grief
a mind of its own
a mind of her own
a room with a view
but it's nothing like home

reactive, electric
she burns as she breaks,
she hits without thinking
but makes no mistake;
she begs for forgiveness
it's all just the same.
for, she holds on too tightly
to the bars on her cage
make sure you're not standing in your own way
Sara Jul 2018
Prematurely mourning
for a heart that hasn't broken yet,
I know the path is dangerous;
I'll risk it all again.

I see can see the quiet
illuminated in the night;
the silence speaks outloud inside
each time I close my eyes.

Nostalgic, painful memories
frozen, falling like hailstones,
and I hear whispered warnings
hidden in each wicked wind which blows.
Sara May 2014
the words we softly whispered
in a language of our own
as we silently ruled our kingdom
from our pillow thrones

i'm cradled in your arms
and the room is dimly lit
as my soldiers lay down their arms
and i begin to let you in

novels of dreams and childhood years
tales of sleepless nights
reports of all my irrational fears
which i confessed by dim candlelight

thoughts that my mind had never before heard
tumbled from my mouth- i was choking
on the brutality of all my honest words
and the ideas which you were provoking

like birds in a cage,
my feelings trapped for too long
and the dust on this page
had been there all along

the first time i was hurt
i swore it was my last
but i begin to revert
with my red wine filled glass

as we slowly drift off into our peaceful slumber
both enveloped by the night
i did, in fact, begin to wonder
if i should confess love by dim candlelight
inspired by and loosely based on lamplight by bombay bicycle club
Sara Apr 2018
Cover up the mirrors and I'll find somewhere to look,
rip me into pieces like the pages of an old notebook,
smudge me into ink stains, stick a needle in my eye,
scribble over my mistakes and cross me out with lines.

Turn me inside out to wash and
hang me out to dry,
drown me in a dried up lake
and cool me down by fire,

spit me out like sour grapes,
then leave me like an ageing wine,
just now, I've quite the bitter taste
but I still need a little time.
Catharsis in a poem- felt very grounded after spitting this out
Sara May 2014
the comfort in your voice
drowns out all the noise
Sara Jul 2018
I'm lost in translation,
bound
by hallucinatory sensations,
found
between border and sea,
cold but free
like a continental breeze
that drifts lonely
to shore.
Still so unsure.
Then lost again once more.
This time she's lost like never before.
Sara May 2018
I didn't want to see the signs so
I turned off all the light and smiled,
with rose-tinted shards stuck in my eyes,
I did anything for an easy life.
It is what it is and it was what it was
Sara Jul 2018
I wipe marker off the board, and
I have a painful tendency of quickly growing bored.
I can't erase the ink-spots lingering
in high-up corners;
to spare the self-defeat, I teach myself how to ignore them.

Ignore the marks, and stains, and pains
pretend I'm wiped clean, all the same
with little left to lose or gain:
I leave them; growth is self-restraint.

Perfection is a non-existent notion,
so they say;
yet, unobtainability is all I can create.
For in my mind, these false ideals make tame desires stray,
and self-destructive pleasure is my antidote to pain.

I think I'm like a little plant
of stunted growth, just seeds to start,
my plantpot made from breaking hearts:
before I grow, I say I can't.
Before we accept something we must first wholeheartedly reject it.
/////
like England winning the world cup lol

////
Joking, I just use humor to mask my emotions x
Sara May 2014
with loss comes pain
and unfortunate gain
of freedom you did not desire

with hurt comes grief
and reluctant belief
that love must always expire
Sara Jun 2018
She smells soft
and fresh like life after rain
but she's bound too tight,
too hard to touch,
and she squirms when you call her name.

She's got that fallen angel face.
Her pieces all fit into place,
have patience, if you wish to wait.
Free spirits float free from leaden weight.
Sara Jul 2018
I saw a glimpse of heaven on an old park bench
but you said the location didn't make much sense
and struggled to see the beauty of all the falling leaves,
so I sighed, and got up, asking if we should leave.
reflection helps me learn not to let other people **** on your wonder x
Sara May 2014
by a crackling fire
with an untuned guitar
as the sun makes its way to its bed

just a few friends
and a bottle of drink
as we discuss all the signs we misread

the uncertain future
regrets of the past
we ask how the world keeps on spinning

from friends to lovers
and lovers to strangers
we're desperate for our new beginnings

so we stop all the talking
and find a way out
you pick up a guitar and you strum

we sing and clap
and knock our drinks back
as our minds begin coming undone
had one of the best days with two of my favourite people yesterday and desperately needed to write something about it
Sara Jul 2018
Beyond the sea, a white rose stands
outside a vase, away from hands.
Too pretty for a picture frame,
a large bouquet, or window pane.

Still growing, life is hers to gain:
the warmth of sun, the cooling rain,
the water droplets, oxygen;
beauty will flourish best with space.

A trademark warmth she wears so well
like sun rays on a daffodil.
She laughs like shamrock by the well,
as infectious as a breeze among bluebells.

I see the child inside your cries of joy, behind your smiles at boys.
Beneath the skies, above the noise.
You breathe in life, and it's all yours.
infectious laughter is like the breeze in a field of bluebells haha   
****
Birthdays are a time to celebrate life
Sara May 2018
I loved til I was black and blue
without much right or reason to.
I loved you soft like morning dew.
You'll fool me once but never two.
dont wear your heart on your sleeve it will get wet
Sara Jun 2018
My inbox was always full
but I always made time for you.
Now, time tells me that I'm the fool:
you say you will, you never do.

You said you would, you never did.
Reclining, you could watch me sink
then toss an anchor down to say
you gave your all to keep me safe.

Don't get me wrong, we were both weights;
controlling, insecure, insane.
Like deep-sea diving in the rain,
not knowing it was all in vain.

Practice breathing, slow and steady;
in the ocean, hot and heavy and
screaming for a miracle
to help us find our way to shore.

Now, I think it discpicable
that I would move sea, sand, and shoreline,
just to make sure you were mine
-a pretty, washed-up shell resigned.
when you don't know what you're looking for who knows what you might find
Sara Dec 2018
I think the world is ending
and I really wish I didn’t.
There’s a rat under the floorboards
and a knife inside the kitchen,
and in the alley by the bins
a man there ******.

The streets all smell of *****,
and ******* indecision
has us riddled
in the middle
of our end and our beginning.

In the town a politician
with a jet black tongue
licks the seal on our decisions
without every truly listening
to anyone.
well done, Britain x
Sara Apr 2019
My footsteps are too loud,
they shout.
Maybe I should keep my voice down;
head, down.
Yet, frown
kept up
the right way round.

No wonder I feel upside-down.
Don’tbeatyourselfupoveryourmistakes,
we all learning.

P.s. didn’t realise that some people I know actually read this so shout out if that’s you x
Sara May 2018
The light breaks in past a bamboo vine
and refracts into marvellous blue.
The air stands as still as the sun shines,
while the birds chirp their favourite tune.

I float to the top of the path and I sit,
carried by freshwater currents.
With air in my veins, I breathe in
and forget each, every one of my troubles.

My eyelids close like petals
moved on by the breeze.
I feel the light warm on my face;
although, I cannot see it.
have you ever been?
Sara Feb 2015
if your mind is a warzone let battle commence,
i will send in my soldiers to fight

if your mind is a warzone the army i lend
will chase the demons from your mind

your mind is a warzone and as soon as i enter
there's no sound to be heard but silence

your mind is a warzone; i stand at the centre
to offer my few words of guidance

your mind is a warzone but i fall to my knees
when i see that you're under attack

your mind is a warzone, from here i can see
a mirage of tears you held back

your mind is a warzone and there in the corner
lies a pile of broken words

when it's one in the same: chaos and order
there are only whispers to be heard

if your mind is a warzone do not try to say
that you must fight this battle alone

because if your mind is a warzone then please do explain
why when i'm in it i feel like i'm home?u
the sacrifices you make for the people you love
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