a.

i'm not good at compliments
or saying i love you
or saying anything at all,

but my first memory is with you,
and i have nineteen years of love
bottled up in my body,
right on stand-by for when
you get home
and i don't think a lot of words
are necessary because

our bodies may have grown taller
and our hearts may have grown smaller,
but you're still my lifeline
and you're still the rocks i cling to
in the storm.

(in class we had to say
who shaped us into who we were,
and i showed a picture of you
and me.
because you guided me down the road,
and even if you no longer hold my hand,
i know you'll still be waiting at the end,
like a lighthouse.)

they say blood is thicker than water,
i'm not sure it matters,
and i'm not sure it's true,
but you can curse everything you are
and your birth will still be the best thing
that's ever come from them,
and i'm sorry you waited so long
for me to tell you.

maybe a year from now,
you won't come home anymore,
and all we'll have is weekly messages
and wish-you-wells.

but if there's one constant, it's us
so don't worry.
this is nineteen years of stone,
of brick house love and concrete worship,
and no miles, or time between us
can tear it down.

relentlessly

i remember a time 

when i was the first thing on your mind 

the days my head didn’t work 

the way it should.

i remember when you’d tell me everything 

in plumes of smoke and shared coffee cups 

whispering to me, you know,

i don’t think i’ve ever felt this close to anyone

and as we inhaled, and as we exhaled,

i couldn’t help but feel 

that was true.

i remember walking down the street with you,

sitting across the dinner table from you, saying,

i feel like you’re the only anchor i have left 

in the world.

(not saying, please 

please don’t leave.)

but there comes a time when someone 

reliable comes along, so the chair is left empty

and the doorbell stops ringing.

i didn’t understand when i called you my anchor, it meant

i was holding you down in the darkness with me.

but i see now -- you’ve let the light in.

the last time we spoke was three weeks ago.

i remember a time when you admired me.

i can only assume after knowing me so long,

you’ve realized 

there’s nothing left to admire.

(i stumble and miss my train

you kiss other people’s cheeks

and i miss you every day, 

relentlessly.)

home

  

if someone asked me to compose a list

of things that make me want to breathe, 

i’d seal my lips shut and point my finger

at you.

(i’d say that you’re my pen and

paper.)

i could name so many things,

could name iced coffees; or the way snow looks

when no one’s stepped on it yet.

i could name canals and kisses on cheeks,

melted chocolate and freshly mowed grass,

sleepy good mornings and whispered good nights.

but if someone asked me to compose a list,

i’d point in your direction, say:

 “if you really want to know.

(what drains the fear from my bones,

puts colour back where it is)

if you really want to know; it’s her.”

because i don’t always appreciate

sunsets and sometimes

i prefer my world in black and white

but if anyone could, it’s you --

(you’re the rope that pulls me out of the sand,

when the ground swallows me up, your hand 

will pull me back into my own head)

so if someone asked me to compose a list,

i’d accept the pen and just write down your name

because you manage to fix me 

every day.

(because you feel like home to me.)

aim

i am furious so easily these days
i’m afraid i’ve started to grow
razorblades in my palms and a dagger
beneath my tongue that aims and
lashes out, laced with poison
i've known you for so long; i know
just where your skin is softestwhere it breaks the easiest and
like a domino, i can make you collapse
with a single flick of my hand.


these days i wake up with an urge
to set fire to the things i hold close
just to see how long it takes for them
to turn to molten ashes; for them to
run and never look back.
each morning i see your picture
and wonder if today is the day
you finally see how dark and horrible
i am; if today is the day you see
how much time you've wasted
on a lost cause.

wednesdays

on wednesdays she looks translucent

her eyes reflecting everything she sees

you have to look twice to notice her

it’s on wednesdays her bones turn brittle

her feet sinking deep into the ground

she leaves dust when she walks

on wednesdays she counts down to midnight

coils up as her hands turn ice blue

she closes her eyes and sees snow

it’s on wednesdays the mirrors are empty

and she leaves no fingerprints behind

she’s stopped touching what she can’t feel

on wednesdays she’s acting out a half-life

 just a ghost, waiting to be roused

after a day of chasing shadows

thursdays are the ones she breathes

and touches until her skin is blistered

red, like the blood pumping through her limbs

(thursdays are the reminders

you’re alive, they scream.

you’re alive.)

colour

it's messy inside my head
a lot of effort goes into looking this composed,
but drop by at three a.m. and
you'll see the cracks


it's the stains i've tried to get rid of
but they just keep coming back
and in the daylight you'd paint me
adequate - i blend in rather well


but when the darkness comes
and the quiet seeps in through the floor boards
i lose the keys and the doors start rattling


(l e t m e o u t l e t m e o u t)


it's messy inside my head
there's things here you don't want to see and
thoughts you don't want to hear



what happened to me, i ask
in the eye of the storm when there is
a stillness in my limbs and a lull
in the back of my throat



wasn't i full of colour, i think
didn't they think me full of promise


is this all there is, i wonder
is this all there is



there used to be a time
when i spent my days dreaming
instead of locking myself away

strangers

sometimes i am torn
between which words to pick
my thoughts race and break every speed limit,
inside my rib cage; a fire that won’t go out no matter
how i try to dim the lights.


there is no on and off switch on my soul
i want to find the pause the rewind
so i can make sense of the click shutter flash;
of the thoughts that race me by,
faster than the light, quicker than a heartbeat.



but i am a bookshop after dark
filled with secrets and worlds to be discovered
yet on lock down, behind chains and switched off lights
there’s a password on my heart to keep the strangers out.

(everyone’s become a stranger now)

journey

tangled locks of hair wrapped around my blackened fingertips

the same that have smoothed out  the lines on your forehead

and have left dark shadows inside the dimples in your cheek

i’m not an artist and the world won’t know my name

but right now you are my canvas and i want my fingers to

map out a journey across your knuckles and down your spine

(and behind your ear, i will leave my name)

(in case you get lost and need to find your way back to me)

not good enough

tomorrow i will lock the door and
carve the words into my ribcage
an endless serial number that scatters
over the plains of my chest


it will say "not good enough"
and it will curl around every edge
and it will rush through every vein
like an ink spill, it will spread
and like quicksand, every breath
will draw me deeper and deeper

look close, you'll see the flood
not good enough, it will read
in the palm of my hands
not good enough, it will say
between the folds of my skin

not good enough
not good enough
not good enough

freedom (les mis themed)

i am

i'm a black hole
replace me with a thousand others
and no one will notice

i'm a stain
you just can't get rid of
no matter how hard you try

i'm a red light
and you're in a rush
to get away from me

i'm an alarm
that won't stop screeching
run, fast, the danger is me

i'm a shard
touch me and you'll bleed
i'll end up ripping you apart

i'm a disease
sneaking into your blood
i'll linger until you're sick of me

to mom

this is august 22nd, date of birth
hands wrapped around a finger
red cheeks and tiny feet
here's where we meet and say
hello, i have been waiting for you


this is playgrounds and swing sets
fingerprints in paint and clay
saying if you believe, you can
and i believe, but i'll never swing high enough
to lose sight of you


this is being on the back of your bike and
weaving through blossoming trees
lying in grass fields that go on forever
a board game between us
to get lost in


this is white ceilings and childish fears
holding me tightly in the dark
because when i'm with you
the monsters shrivel up and
the demons hide away


this is boulevards and smelling the sea
feet propped up on the dashboard
and we might not find the answers today
but at least we can say
we went looking


this is the smell of grass and mint tea
car rides with the windows open and the radio on
i don't know this song and that’s okay
because it tunes out the world and
it's just you and me now


this is hospital beds and frustrated tears
refusing to be defeated by a downpour
and you may not carry a sword
but i've learnt that maybe warriors
don't need weapons after all


this is a long winding road, they say
the path to recovery is a hard one
but we both know you were always made
to climb steep hills and not once
have i seen you stumble


this is convicted nods and understanding
when my chest is frozen and my legs are locked
you lighten the frost, inch by inch
don't need to say anything to melt me
back to where i was before


this is good days and bad days
where my bones fight my every move
and a devil perches on the top of your spine
but i can turn the heat up for you and light the candles
and for a moment we can pretend it's perfect


this is turning the key and being home
here’s where we meet and say
hello, i have been waiting for you
and maybe we’re a little cracked
but i wouldn’t have it any other way



this is being a mother, a best friend
this is je t'aime, i love you
you're a better teacher than you think

haiku i

i don't know whether
this city is in ruins
or it's me who's broke

time

spewing out curses and bleeding out slurs
i've never been the poster girl
and the words never came to me as easy as the sea
never has it been effortless instead
everything so far has come with cracks
scratches that never quite heal
and bruises that never quite fade


i am hiding, and you seem to have found me
tell me to stop trying as if the solution lies
in a pause, a rest, a stop motion
but this is all i have ever known and
this desperation won't flicker out in time like a worn battery
this need i'll carry with me,
won't just vanish like a cloud of smoke on a cold night
where regrets turn into wishes
and wishes turn into dreams
i'm not doing this to please you
i'm simply doing this to please myself
it's harder than it looks
and it takes time

to paige

make me the record you play at night
make the hitch in my breath the cracks of the vinyl
and let every note surround you
as if i am there with you


because to me, you are music
there is a melody buried in your laugh
and there are lyrics hidden in your words
somewhere deep inside you is a symphony
that refuses to pause, marches on,
can't stop, won't end
please let me listen to you forever
and ever and ever
there is an orchestra inside of you
a beauty i wish i could possess

and maybe, for now, being close enough
to catch the rhythm
in the corners of your mind
maybe, for now, that's enough
to be as beautiful as you

always

they will always come for you
when the beat of your heart slows
and the blood in your veins thickens
they'll set the alarms and
bring out the red banners
when tears track down your cheeks
leave dark marks across your skin
they'll caress the bad away
and replace it with good memories
when the lights go out and you can't
reach out to turn them back on
their hands will fold around your spine
and get you to stand straight
when the moon has permanently crossed the sun
and you can't recall the warmth
their arms will wrap around you
tighten, until you remember
and just when you think this is it
they'll prove you wrong with smiles
and touches you didn't think you needed
until you did
they will always come for you

cracks

not poetry x