Yours

If it makes you so unhappy why do you let them do it?
Run a wrist down the side of your waist let it stop,
stop
crying,
(it makes it seem like you’re lying),
 stiff upper lip –
keep tight, keep your mouth closed,
it is not theirs to open.

Your body is yours,
so why does it feel as if your insides are filled,
with the hands of the universe?
and a ticking clock for a heartbeat?
Waiting to set off the alarm to tell people that they can have a free feed.

Your strings are attached to so many different brains
you no longer have one of your own,
stretched out of shape,
soft,
and selfish.
You’ve thought of nothing but your own skin for days on end,
and how many times you can cut it
before it rips open completely,
letting out the marbles that once lived in your now empty skull.

Sometimes,
you think about sewing yourself back up
and pouring the marbles down your throat
but every time you do,
someone quickly fills your veins with
hungry flies and
sews your mouth shut so you’re no longer you
until you let them out again.

Right now, your skin is red-raw.
A picnic blanket of infested sandwiches and oozing juice.
Cover it with a thick layer of grass,
and dirt,
and fallen leaves,
and nasty, nasty thoughts
and poems to hide the stench of
unhappy and
imperfection.
Hide your ugly face.
With a layer of smiles,
and a kind voice,
just to fool the world into thinking
that it’s fine
for them to rest their hands on your open wounds
and private poems.

Permanent solution

I never saw it as a permanent solution
Bathroom to bathroom,
skipping the important moments,
distancing myself from anything that mattered,
that’s how I did it but
you always have to come back,
(miss one too many moments and your brain starts to spin)
Nobody ever noticed. Not until it meant too much.

I never saw it as a permanent solution
Just a walk away for a little while
away from all those faces that make me hide my
eyes.

I saw it as a temporary fix,
a drug,
a way to feel alive, but safe.
No one missed me, I always came back.

I never thought it could be a
permanent solution.
I sat in that park all day,
I walked around and
I told myself:
“Don’t go back.”

I never saw it as a permanent solution
 I thought maybe it could be the fix I needed.
No stability,
no people, alone for
all of time.

But isn’t that what got me here in the first place?
Lonely even in the loudest places,
didn’t belong so I found a new place,
where nobody could make me feel
lonely because nobody was there to tell me that
I should and that I’m
a piece of shit and
that was the first day I felt the feelings leaking from my throat and in to the toilet bowl along with the remainder of those who had kept me company that day.

I never saw it as a permanent solution.
It never made me thinner.
I never lost weight.
I lost self-esteem,
tumbling down the plug hole of a cold shower,
the water drinking my tears as they came up with
half a tub of ice cream.

I never thought it was a permanent solution.
I never told myself it would last longer than a week,
just like my other bad habits.
But there I was
half a year later,
failing my AS levels and
longing for the relief of a dirty toilet bowl and
an empty stomach
just to make me feel less
useless.

I haven’t done it for a long time.
Sure I’ve hurt, but
it will never ever hurt the way that feeling did,
does.
Always aching,
always screaming at me to
DO SOMETHING,
MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So me and this feeling we lie together at night.
I don’t need to feel lonely,
or ever be alone.
I always have the feeling.

I never saw it as a permanent solution.
Maybe it wasn’t.
But I sure feel better than I did without it to fall back on

Know

 

You know that I need this sweet breath of air
to fill my lungs with dreams that find my head
my love, you try to stitch me up instead
the lack of you, it leaves my lungs so bare
I cry for your love, I scream for your care
But to you, I still lie, chained to the bed
Surrounded with an air of hasty red
My sheets now show the stains of spirit shared

You try to tell me all will soon be lost
A careless spill of courage and of doubt
For someone so soft, so sad, so damn sick
But you are worth no, love, or care, or lust
No matter how you try to show me out
A girl like me, you just can not unstick

This

It never gets better than this.
The aching sound, the dullest taste.
Your stinging fingers on her waist
you pull her tight, you tell her this
“The nicest girl I’ve never kissed”

A shining light, a painful tongue
you want to love, you want to feel
her mouth has what you need to heal
you want to touch, you want to run
But this love has just begun

And then it ends, the feeling dead
you see the blood roll out her eyes
A gift just for her empty thighs
But she sits so still inside your head
An image only you can agonise

The beautiful girl, the dying look
her lips a gap you want to fill
you hold her hand, you feel the chill
of pages turning in a book
the feeling, she could make you spill

On the 4th blog of Christmas…

My mother always told me
That there’s more to a mince pie
Than the pastry on the top
and the filling that’s inside

But one day I did ask her
full of curiosity
What is actually in a pie and
why is it called minced “meat”?

“Well Tilly,” she began to say,
as she knelt down to my height
“Maybe you should ask santa
what you’d find in a mince pie…

Because it’s santa’s elves who make them
And they really must be proud
Because they are so very yummy
and they are so perfectly round…”

“Yes but mummy what’s inside them?”
I asked her, my voice becoming low
She just laughed, tapped her nose 
and said:
“wouldn’t you like to know!”

But that night I lay in bed
and dreamt of what could be
Inside of those mince pies…
Why wouldn’t she tell me!?

So I waited til the morn
And asked her once again
“What is in a mince pie!?”
and she told me something strange

“The reason they never tell you
is they’re quite misunderstood
Because the elves who make the mince pies…
Are why they taste so good…

They mix them up so well
And they make them all themselves…
but the reason no one tells you,
is because they’re made of ELVES”

I looked at her in shock
And a shiver cut right through
But she gave me such a look
That I knew it must be true.

“But it’s not a bad thing!”
She quickly told me so
,
“For them it is a good thing,
and I really hope you know –

They do it to the old elves
Who have served santa well
and they line up by the mincer
and wait to hear the bell”

I listened very closely
Because I didn’t know what to say
and my mother told me something
That blew my mind away

“When the bell starts ringing
The elves all dive right in
And the younger elves start singing
to celebrate their win

Only the kindest elves
Get to become a mince pie
Because it’s very important to santa
That the mince pies taste just right”

And then it all made sense
“That’s why they’re so delightful!
But I wonder what they do to the elves
Who have been a little spiteful…”

“That,” said my mum
“Is not a story for tonight,
after all how do you suppose,
Santa’s beard is quite so white?”

On the 1st blog of Christmas…

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There once was a forest of Christmas trees
who grew so big and tall
Their needles were green their trunks were strong
but that wasn’t true for all.

Among the trees, the big tall trees
(that grow so tall and spiny)
in to the mighty forest land
There stood a tree so tiny

His needles blue and rounded
His trunk so thin and weak
He stood among the giants
his future seeming bleak

Then it came the season
to chop the trees all down
and the trees all grinned in pride
as they lay upon the ground

Big strong men with thick old gloves
threw them in a cart
and the trees laughed with excitement
as they got ready to depart

But one tree was not happy
his face not filled with glee
the tiny tree thought of Christmas and said
“nobody will want me!”

They trundled through the forest
and drove in to the road
the driver kept on driving
with his big, green, heavy load

T’was not long till they arrived
in the farm for Christmas trees
The trees were all dragged out the cart
and marked with a hefty fee

Except for one poor tree
(who was known for being quite small)
the driver laughed when he placed him down
he said: “He’ll cost nothing at all!”

And how the trees did snigger
and call him horrible names
so the tiny tree looked downwards
his needles dropping in shame

“Just wait until tomorrow,” they laughed
“Let’s see who wants you then!”
and the little tree hid in the back of the farm
hoping that the day would end

And when the morning came
the trees stood tall and proud
except for one little tree
who hid amongst the crowd

And sure enough the people came
the trees went one by one
they wondered who would be picked next
it was a game that was easily won

And as the day progressed
and the day became dark and cold
the gates were shut and left behind
were the trees that could not be sold

And the little tree did cry
He cried for a house to live
He cried when he thought of the families
and all the joy he could give

Soon the morning was here
but the trees seemed pretty sad
except for one little tree
who was almost certainly mad…

He jumped to the front of the line
and stood his trunk up straight
waiting for the perfect family
he stayed up near the gate

Yet all the families ignored him
They went straight to the back
Where stood the tallest Christmas trees
standing together in a pack

But the little tree wasn’t disheartened
He just wasn’t fit for the bin
He stretched out his branches and shivered
Someone would surely pick him

And as he had this thought he listened
Whom had that sweet little laugh?
A little boy ran round the corner
Wearing a red and white scarf

“I cannot wait for Christmas!” he cried
“And all we need is a tree!”
The little tree raised his head and said
“Maybe they will want me!”

“Remember, only a small one”
The mother said to her son
The tree smiled and straightened his trunk
Christmas had just begun!
And as you can surely imagine
The tree was perfect for him!
He was packed on the top of their car
Oh how he felt he could sing!

And soon he was stood in their house
Taller than ever before
And he knew that nothing was better
Than the Christmas that he had in store.

The Headless Dance

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The music slowed to a grotesque tempo as the headless men lined the walls, their lined jackets flickering under the light of one thousand wax candles suspended from the ceiling.
The dark, dim room span in slow circles, making the men dizzy with anticipation.
Months had passed and tonight was the night.
Tonight was the night that the headless dance would commence once more.
The headless men waited in the light for their counterparts to reveal themselves from the shadows that they thrive in for weeks at a time, their eyes glinting in the flames of their own dark desire.
As the music picked up speed, the women were enticed forward.
They step in time, their high heeled boots clicking on the cold ground, to the tune of each man’s heartless corpse.
The shadows twirled towards the waiting line, each bony caress of their hands encouraging their heartless chests to beat harder and with an elegant longing
The bodies two by two joined the ballroom floor in a jolting harmony.
Heartbeats beating in heartless ribcages in time to the songless symphony.

They dance in shaky circles; one step left, two steps right,
a simple lift and a silent plight.
Backwards, forwards, left and right,
into the dark, then in to the light
the heartless men come dancing
Their footsteps are advancing
The men move faster, the women resist,
he places a kiss against her wrist,
the blood pumps round to her heart and back,
but the man’s shrivelled heart is empty and black.
His hand takes a hold and she shivers with cold,
her skin becomes pale, his breath becomes stale,
her eyes become wide, he soon slips inside…

Her neck stands alone
She no longer exists
Her heart has been thrown
From the blood on his lips
So the men line the walls and they wait for their chance,
to find their new prize at the next headless dance.

Inside

Open the door and look inside
Can you see me if I hide
Behind my hands
I close my eyes
I can’t let you see inside
Hide my feelings hide my lies
Maybe this time I won’t cry
Drink the milk and taste the blood
Maybe this is why I’m numb
Poke me prod me push me around
I’ll still be here, I won’t hurt
I’m always found
Down in the dirt

Blood

Leaves are growing through my veins and blocking all the blood
It floods my heart and floods my brain and now I don’t know how I am supposed to choose between you or myself.
Instead I will drown in the red and the blue and the tears that over flow under my eyelids.
Catch them.
Catch them if you can.
Feed them to your thirsty heart and you can choose me as
I have chosen
you.

Ache

 

My legs ache like they’ve never ached before and I
Didn’t know it was possible to feel this lonely even
Though I am surrounded by people who know me the best but
If they know me the best then why am I so
So
Alone?

You can ask the questions but you’ll rarely get
The answer.
Maybe there isn’t an
Answer just lots and lots of
Questions and queries and thoughts and unanswered phone calls
At 3 in the morning when you’re at your worst, but they’re at their best fast asleep and
Dreaming of a new day when you’re hoping that this will
Be your
Last.

Laughing

Laughing is a great way to keep track of where you feel the best
Last time I laughed I was alone
Maybe I’m better off there too
But then whenever I am with you I get this feeling
Like if I laugh I’ll wake you up and you’ll realise that I’m not the one you want
Maybe I belong with you
But maybe I belong alone
Without you
Where I can laugh and be me
But am I really me when I’m not with you?
Do I even exist or am I just here for you?

Mine

Your heart beats like mine
A little bit soft a little bit sad
Slowed by the dust and the grime
And the sound of the girl I never had.

You miss her too
I know you do don’t you?
I can hear her laugh in your tears.
Don’t you know I feel the same?
I feel that pain and my cries laugh with her smiles too.
You could be my new laugh and I will be your smile
Maybe then you’ll see it’s worth the while
To love someone who isn’t worth loving at all.

Something

Something’s not quite right in the way
She moves and the way she seems to
See everything and think so deeply yet
Feel so empty and full at the same time.
Is she worth something? Or is it just a way
To make the lonely nights seem a little less
Lonely as she dreams of the future that she can not
Touch.
Just a life time away and yet so far
She stares in to the distance
Where the best of her dances around in the
Grass and the wind and the rain and the sun
And the dance of her life has barely begun
So she lies on the floor and looks up at the sky
Hoping that this will be how she will die.