Mama is bad
she doesn't look
at my painting
she hides her eye

behind the camera
and in her mind she makes
her own painting
of me

another Helena of me
with blood on her hands
an angry ******
with a cool belly

for hot men
a Confident-Blue
belly despite the voyeurs
at mummy's exhibition

who think they see me
while they fantasise
about a 'fille fatale'
pleasing them

I deserve peace and calm and I am able to refocus my attention.

You are beautiful,

like all the other people --


I get to know well.

When you disrespected our connection,                                                    I  took my love in another direction                                                   Leaving  you lost in your confusion,                                                       ­  left  you to drown in your delusions                                                        ­         I  did my best to remain  positive,                                                ­    despite you creating  a false narrative                                                        ­ Trying to make others see your side,                                                     while  operating from  a sense of pride                                             I  compromised all of my values,                                                          ­     while  you left me to be without  you                                                      planning that in my despair,                                                         ­                        I'd run to you hoping you still cared                                                            ­        You did your best to keep me down,                                                            ­ but now you're looking like the clown                                                     because  of your warped bid for attention                                                        ­               you broke us with your  selfish intentions

Didn't you know?
Didn't they tell you?

You should have known.
At least you ought to.

It's Psychology 101.
A classic class.

In how to charm.
Then disarm the victim.

Didn't you know?
Weren't you paying attention?

You were too caught.
In his gaze.
The way he said your name.

He played the prey.
Perfectly waiting.

Biding his time.
As his jaw gnawed,
At his cheek.

In the back of the class.
He watched you.
Following your footsteps.

Waiting to feast.
It was psychology 101.

But I guess you must,
have fallen asleep.

If there isn't any hope,
for you?

Then what hope is there for us?
Next time I hope you'll be paying attention.

Instead of falling asleep.
In my lesson.

To care about facts

and the actuality --


of a person’s mood.

Stand still where you are,

don't pass by cursorily --


as if in a set.

I don’t want just a glance.
I want the kind of gaze
that stays,
like I’m a piece of art,
not just a face.

A gaze that falls quiet when they see me,
like I just took their breath away.

I don’t want someone
who only thinks I’m pretty.

I want someone
who sees the messy parts,
the quiet overthinking,
and still thinks
“God, she’s beautiful.”

I want someone
who notices the curve of my smile,
the light in my eyes,
the way my hair falls
when I’m not even trying,
and adores it.

Every inch. Every angle.

I want someone
who doesn’t just compliment me,
but worships the floor I walk on.

Someone who looks at me
like they’ve never seen anything
so beautiful.

Because I’m tired
of being “nice to look at”
but never truly seen.

I want to be admired
out loud.

Not just for who I am inside,
but for how I carry beauty
without even knowing it.

I want someone
who adores me like I’m rare.

Because I am.

Attention is nice

even from a distance, but --


I miss our embrace.