Sleepy emptiness.

If you feel empty, he says,

his voice like molten lava,

if you feel empty then, child,

why are you crying so?

Why do your fists clench in unison

leaving half-moon indents on your scratched and aching palms?

Why does your heart flutter

when you read the replies acting like an elephant dominating the room?

You can’t feel empty, he says,

because that, my dear child, that is not emptiness.

Why then do you flush red

when people utter kind loving words to you?

Why do you sit alone on your bed

wearing a fake smile that begs for forgiveness when you have not sinned?

What is emptiness, my child,

if not a space full of holes?

Why does your breathing surge

when people say hello?

Why do you rise with happiness and flustered grins

only to collapse in doubt and misery not moments later?

That cannot be emptiness child,

I will not allow it to be.

You don’t feel empty, he says,

as we both watch my hand bounce on my knee,

you feel too much and it exhausts you, the trembles

halt and freeze,

you need more sleep dear child, more food, more warmth, and more smiles upon your rosy cheeks,

come now dear child, lay your weary head down upon this pillow made of your dreams,

and go child, go to sleep. 

Scream

I want to scream until my lungs give out

I want to never talk again

I’d rather sit in pure untainted silence

Than have another one of these conversations in my head.

If I look up there is only a starry sky

And sometimes,

Sometimes there are no stars

Only a darkness that stretches as far eternity but is always out of my reach.

I’ve never been good at goodbyes

But I find I’m getting better

With each person I say it to

I feel a little bit freer to scream into the terrifying eternal night.

I also find that with every hour that I breathe in through my greedy lungs

I find myself coming back to life

Slowly at first, slowly then all at once,

I have all the friends I’ll ever need stop saying I need a man to complete me.

I’m not going to put myself out in the open anymore

Funnily enough it’s one of the worst things I could ever do

So I’m going to suck in a deep breath and hold it in my lungs

And I’m going scream into the darkness;

And I'm going to wait for it to scream back. 

Basically Screw You

*contains explicit language [??? as a warning ???]

I want to look at you and not feel anything

I want to hear your name and not remember everything

I want to look at you like you’re a stranger to me

like you meant nothing to me

but my head is so murky

your words are like the poison that I’m inhaling

dragging in fumes that spit like snakes at me

your words are similar in their form

you blame me

you blame them

you blame everyone except the one in the mirror

except the face that you see each morning

you don’t blame that face

you don’t blame yourself

not like me

not like how I live each day;

consumed to the brim with guilt like it’s the blood that drains my veins,

I don’t think you understand how it’s like to live like that.

I want to scream in your face

I want to burn every single trace of you from every single memory I have

cause I’m fucked up yes

but the worlds fucked up too

and you added to that

with your sweet words

your bag of devilish things

you pushed me into that corner of that cliff

the cliff that I was terrified of

the cliff that made me scared of heights,

you pushed me off and expected me to stay in the air

you expected me to stay floating when I hit the icy water

you expected me to forgive you

and maybe I should

maybe I should smile sweetly and sit down with that letter

and not snatch a lighter from someone

and not let it burn

not let the crinkled words mean a thing,

but they do

they cut deep like a dentists saw

they imprint themselves onto my skin like tattoos for all to see.

I hate them

I despise the words you wrote

the lies

the blames that make no sense

I’d love to tell you to grow a backbone

but it’s clear you can’t

it’s clear to me that you’ll forever remain the spineless bastard you’ve always been

there’s no changing that now

but I hope you’re happy

I hope you’re proud

I hope you know what mess you’ve caused

and one day I hope you actually care

and I hope you know that it’s too late now

so fuck you

I can’t spend forever feeling guilty for something I had no control over

I was a child

you were a terrible father

It’s simple in the most complicated of ways. 

Author

I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if it were a book,

It would probably be exactly the same

Give or take a few things,

But my author

My keen-to-write-at-4am author

Might love all my flaws

They might wake up abruptly from a two hour nap and think to themselves;

‘What if she meets someone? What if they change her perspective? What if..?’

And my life will change at the drop of a baseball hat,

As it seems to sometimes anyway,

And I would be written beautifully as I meet strangers in this small unsafe world,

And they would go from ‘maybes’ to ‘somethings’

To ‘nothing at alls’ in the blink of an eye

In the swing of a mood and a drag of a coffin spreading smoke like vines,

They are ‘ex-somethings’ there isn’t really a word

To describe their sad smiles and self-conscious hair

I could never give their characters justice

Not like my author could

And they were given such poetic harmony with the stroll of the wave

That neither of us quite saw the sharks and piranha’s waiting in a hidden cave.

I sometimes think

On those days where nothing seems to latch on to my keen attention

On those dreary days

If I were someone’s character

Are those the days when my author feels sad and lonely too?

The pen in their hand squeezed so tight

The finger hovering over the spacebar

The other over the backspace

Forwards or backwards they are asking

Because they cannot decide on what’s worse

The past – and all of that lonely pain

Or the future – with all of that pain to come

And it seems that lately

That indecisions has streamed a set of its own decisions

Bad decisions

Very few good decisions

And a hell of a lot of paperwork.  

Homesick

It’s a cold evening in my room,

the air around it still and silent,

like the look in your eyes

and the scoff in your breath.

My insides are quivering

I feel threatened and alone

as if anything and everything I say means nothing

perhaps it doesn’t

perhaps I should want to stay.

Yet I feel homesick

homesick at home

I don’t even live here anymore yet it feels like my life is on the line

I never realised how much people tired me out.

I don’t speak

I shuffle and feel my skin crawl beneath your gaze

there’s the scoff first

then the derogative voice condemning my preferences in film,

and I don’t say a word

it’s like my mouth has been poisoned into muteness

and my face is being held under water

blocking my ears from hearing that condescending voice anymore,

it’s only a muffled sound now

but a sound I won’t forget.

I reach out for help only to have my hand slapped back

no one will listen

no one gives a crap,

I fall back into rank

I collapse like a thousand butterflies lived within my body

they drop dead as they leave,

and I lie there on that godforsaken arctic floor

wondering if these four walls will be the only things to ever hear my breaking voice.

Carved into my hand with acidity of your bruising words

three words I seem to always utter

as if they are a mantra for my life

an excuse for my pitiful existence

a broken vow and a forgotten promise

I’m so sorry

and that’s all they’ll ever hear

apology after apology

but where’s my apology

where’s the apology meant for me?

I’ll never hear it

not from the peat in your mouth

no I think you’d rather die

than apologise honestly to a female,

because that’s all you see in me

another female to belittle

another girl to stamp on

to judge and abuse

but I won’t let these animals inside escape my flowering mouth

no I’ll keep them quiet

I’ll keep me quiet

and I’ll never say another word again.

Surprised

The world is ending around us
No one has noticed
No one has said a word
We're quiet like we're waiting
And the music in the air is the gunshots that spit out their bullets towards us,
I can't say anything
Hell I can barely look at you.,
I don't want you to look into my eyes and figure out what I'm thinking
I haven't looked at you in a while now
Am I in denial?
Or am I simply having a breakdown ?
I wouldn't be surprised
Given all that's happened
Given all these miserable lies,
No I wouldn't be surprised.

Glue

I can only move slowly

like my limbs are stuck in place

and as time passed and I grew older and colder in my heart,

I became the glue that stuck me there in the first place.

The glue that was spread across the edges of a bank white page,

I became its sticky form

smooth in some place and bumpy in others I would hold together their hands

unifying them in a way that separated myself.

I am the open glue that people forget about

without a lid and a safety blanket I dry out quickly

and so my misery spikes when the next person comes along to use me

and then have the audacity to moan about how I’ve dried.

I am the glue that people poke with scissors just to leave a mark

they carve their initials into my skin with rough caresses that hurt so much

then they smooth over the bumpy letters and begin again

their grubby hands clutching at my quivering side, a sense of ownership about them.

But they don’t own me,

not now

not ever

I’ll be your glue, fine,

but only

God damn only

if you’ll be mine.  

Shining brighter than the sun

I’m going to dance in the graveyards

I’m going to cry in the rain

I’m going to suffer through these emotions

in hopes that one day I’ll be smiling again.

You’re going dance with me

you’re going to cry tears of your own,

we’ll suffer together

until these skies clear up and we’ll feel at home.

In the stars we’ll find our fears

and in these clouds our laughter and tears

far away in the suns brilliant glare

a smile, a kind word, a hand linked with hope.

That’ll be home, I think

yes that will be home. 

Exploding Supernovas

I learn to space my days out

based on the way we talk

the way you smile and the way I swoon,

but night passes

and the days grow colder and shorter

but I pass them staring out of the window

or writing words that make no sense to anyone else,

bring me the night

give me less life

feed me more dreams

let me pretend to have a smile for you,

even if I’m dying inside.

I’ll still dance around my room

singing quietly along with the song that cries in my heart,

let’s write a story

one line each

one page at a time,

where’s the sense in writing the last page before the first?

Let’s do this with each gathering breath,

one step at a time,

one naïve mistake that haunts me forever,

there are some days I wish I had that naivety back in my palms,

it might help me bury this doubt away

but I’ve got to let that go,

I’ve got to smile and pretend that everything’s okay,

once you’ve done something for a while it becomes normal.

I can do this

I can be who I am

and you won’t hold me back from that,

I’m an exploding supernova in the everlasting space that surrounds this world,

I am the stars in this galaxy and every other galaxy out there,

my smiles might be fake but my heart isn’t,

I don’t have time for your black and white opinions anymore,

no I’m going to stay in the grey area,

the colourful semi darkness it spreads like a disease in the Milky Way,

I’m doing fine losing my breath running after these comets,

I can barely even see you from behind these shining lights

that fly like fairies past my laughing mouth,

you’re like the ghost of these shadows on my hands

and even though everyone tells me to not wish you the best

I will because honestly,

you deserve to catch the stars too.

Pens and Paper and the Words They Utter

My pen is silver and sharp and my paper is soft and warm.

My words are red and shaky.

We all began as blank canvases,

but the slow ascent into adulthood began to leave its claw marks on this picture.

Imperfections of the skin,

I can’t write the conclusion

and I never was good at endings,

they lie in false hope of someone coming.

I tell myself I’ll be strong,

but I’m still writing words,

the words are still seeping into my skin

the ink never runs out,

and this canvas becomes butchered and mangled.

My pen is silver and my paper is soft

and my words are red like blood. 

Grace

The roll of the waves is like some sweet melody filtered by the rain and pebbles,
I listen,
I pause,
I watch them roll in unison. 
It moves like a pulsing meadow,
all at once then one by one,
tainted by the drag of the moon
and by the soft call of the icy wind -
like it's drawn to its graceful tug. 

The rhythmic beating of its thrumming heart haunts me when I sway,
the reverberation like a ballad in inside my head,
it never ends.
Its monotonous tone continuous forever -
like space but its tune is far sweeter,
far more illustrious than the echoing white noise.

I halt,
I sit still,
I wait for the inevitable,
for the pitch of a voice from behind me,
the baritone deeper than most -
like a chorus of evil has gathered around my shoulders.

The waves roll on in its soporific way,
cleansing my soul one scar at a time.
I'm alive. 
We're alive. 

But

I'm not sure I want to be alive anymore. 

Forget

He walks through a glade of light,
His eyes dark and sorrowful,
But I know him! I cry,
I know him I swear,
I reach out to touch his faded grey jumper -
But the image fades with the onslaught of tears,
I am scared that I'll forget again,
His face as sweet as the promise of eternal pure happiness,
I'm terrified of drawing up a blank image -
The next time someone utters his name.
He will forget me,
That much I know - 
That much I have come to terms with,
Everyone forgets eventually,
But I don't want to. 

Lonely and Alone

Wrapped up in cosy fabrics that should keep me warm

I gaze out across the hallowed room

I’m alone and I feel lonely

but lonely is such a relative term,

I feel lonely when I see a couple in the street,

if I happen to see them meet.

I feel lonely when I hear the cackles of laughter echoing through the night,

my chest tightens and I feel colder inside,

they’re having fun without me tonight

but every night

I feel lonely when I talk to you,

and you have no idea,

I’m silent and I'm trying
just please, please  just listen to me, 

I’m weary of feeling lonely

I’m sick of being me.

You lie and mimic and I wonder just how much you believe,

you’re not lonely,

not at all,

or rather you’re a different lonely to me.

The pleasure of my own company is starting to fade,

there’s only so many of my own jokes I can laugh at

only so many I can make,

I’m alone in my mind,

in body

and in soul –

there’s no way to change that,

not until I allow the darkness to seep in,

I know that darkness will leave me empty 
with lifeless eyes and scorched skin

I’m alone in this room

in this cell that surrounds me,

I can never leave the carved walls that confine me,

my words are scratched into its surface 
blood of my fingers
blood on the wall

Why won’t you listen? 
why don’t you hear?
why does everyone leave me?

Why can’t I be happy?

I’m scared, like all those souls before me,

unable to whisper the words that I need to say the most,

the simplest most difficult thing;

help me save myself 
please, why won't anyone help me?

I’m lonely and alone and you’ve left me too. 

There's a void in our hearts.

Sometimes I wonder if I were to remain sitting in this corner,

If I were to watch the world pass by like I didn’t exist,

Would you see me there on the edge of that abyss?

And if I were to get up and step closer to the darkness and further from the city lights,

Would you move closer to stop me?

Or take my shaking hand and join me?

We dance together by the edge,

Dreading the fate that looms over our sun-starved heads,

It feels like we thrive in the darkness,

Like there are no rules grounding us,

But the floor beneath me is turning black,

The floorboards are disappearing,

And it’s almost funny how we fall between the cracks –

Only just realising at that very last moment how much we want to live.

So we grab onto the light,

We let it scorch our skin as we drag our broken bodies up,

The people in the light scorn our scars,

Our broken sore skin,

They are afraid of the darkness in our hearts

As if it could jump out and feed on their souls like it does ours,

But keep that smile on your face no matter how bitter it might taste,

For sweet release will come soon

And we will walk through those burning embers together,

One foot in front of the other;

I swear we’ll make it this time. 

Fault?

It takes a moment for the situation to sink in,

but it sinks in too far and I can feel it – all of it – cling to my bones,

you were my first point of call once,

my first morning text and smile of ‘good morning, hello’.

but things changed,

they always do,

but I can’t help that;

it isn’t my fault,

so stop blaming me

stop blaming me,

I’ve done no wrong.

You just don’t understand,

you won’t understand,

not until your time comes.

You asked me jokingly once to not forget you,

but there was a seriousness in your tone that you couldn’t quite hide,

but quite frankly I was offended,

I couldn’t forget you even if I tried.

Even now looking back,
I shudder at the memories 
but I never forgot 
how could I forget the abuse and the hate? 
How could I forget being used and tossed aside?
And the way you asked me to die

How could I forget that?

Echoes

I find myself smiling sometimes,

Just a small smile,

I’m lost in memories of your voice,

Losing myself in the musings that leave your mouth,

Waiting for the hour you say something new,

So that I can allow those words to wash over me like fresh rush of air.

You set me free,

Word by word,

Until I burst through the flames.

Once upon a time I wouldn’t have thought I’d be in this position;

Words filtering over my skin like smoke,

Letters resting on my tongue like water.

Is this what it feels like, having the confidence to say anything?

You’ve shown me yourself,

I know who you are,

It’s only when I’m alone in this intimidating room,

The sound of your voice a blatant echo in my head

That’s when I feel like I’m about to explode into thousands of screams,

Memories are fine but echoes rattle in my skull –

They splice through my brain and I can’t remember your face,

But your voice, your voice is steadily getting louder.

And me? –

I’m steadily getting weaker behind my knees.

Still

I stare at nothing

My mouth is dry and my lips feel odd,

My breathing is out of sync,

There are ants beneath my skin –

But I sit still and let them make their way to my heart.

I feel exhausted

But I want to do something exciting,

I want my body to run and feel that rush of blood screaming through my veins,

But the hopelessness that I’m feeling has its fingers around my throat,

So I let my body ease into an unforgiving slump and stay still.

The music that sings around me seems to get louder,

Its beat more abusive

Its lyrics more fierce,

My fingers freeze on the keyboard as I bite down on my already bruised lip,

I won’t say anything anymore, 

I've said too much already 

I'm unsure of how close to edge of the pit I am;

But I think I’m ready to fall. 

4am

They say that 2am is the time of lovers,

Where someone will remain awake thinking and mourning their untold desires,

So what is 4am?

Why am I awake so late?

To lament past lovers? Hardly the case here –

There are not enough to even fill one line of scripture.

No, 4am is the time of wishing,

Craving to be in sleeps warm embrace;

Encased in a dream with 2am’s feverish demands.

It is the time of wishing to god to that you weren’t alone in your bed,

But then knowing full well that you are

And that you will be for a long time.

4am is a stupid time to be awake,

And as the hour becomes half

The wishes become more savage and beautiful,

Encompassed with far more freedom then they were before.

And at 4.59am when the ticking of the clock slows down in trepidation

You hold your breath,

And as you breathe out; all those wishes flow through your throat and down your nose.

In your head there is silence once again.

But 5am begins with a shout. 

Here be Dragons.

There was a frost this morning,

Covering the green fields that surround us,

I walk through the icy terrain in a daze,

It feel like a dream within a dream

A cold beautiful vision.

We are Dragons;

The time of dragons has come in the land of the dragon itself,

Smoke pours from our mouths and noses as we huff and puff,

Fire warms our cockles as we curl up next to the radiator frozen to the core,

Our claws are scratching at our chattering skin –

Be free, it begs, I want to be free.

There’s a mountain too,

A peak of clothes that we hide beneath to keep ourselves warm,

Dizzyingly warm like tepid lava had been spread over our veins.

We roar into the night as we tremble and crave,

We’re dragons I say,

And dragons are brave. 

You can't be serious.

I close the door gently when all I want to do is slam it shut,

The smile on my face is full of thousands of lies,

I’m miserable,

People don’t look close enough to see that the smile isn’t true,

They don’t see my unhappiness,

They only care enough to see my smile.

How many times have you run away?

I see the notches in the bedpost,

The blood on the carpet,

I hesitate to breathe,

And I cover my eyes –

Too afraid to see,

But my head is already cracking into a shattered puzzle,

And the pieces are being taken one by one away.

With my head in my hands I take a breath,

I know, I know,

The fragile thing I hold in my hands fragments as it descends to the floor,

And you stamp down.

I have these pills,

The implication rolling in my heart,

Used and tossed to one-side,

Broken and wondering why I even tried,

My spirit is eclipsed in all the things you take for granted.

I’m eighteen but my soul feels ninety,

It’s time to bottle up my scars,

Stop wasting my days,

Get up and move along,

Stand tall because I’m more than enough,

God those words feel so alien to me,

I’m enough, I whisper to the mirror in front of me,

My hand covering my face,

You’re enough

I whisper into the pillow under my head,

Forever hoping those words will be enough.