Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Endless Roads

Long, grey, endless roads remind me of you.

The spotlight streetlights,

stretching out a million miles,

with darkness either side.

You, by my side,

and I’m surprised at how little I fear the dark,

when I know you’re next to me,

and I am staring at the sat nav,

negotiating with the minutes until my final destination,

trying to tell them to slow down.

Slow down,

pull over into the darkness and kiss me.

Kiss me, like we have nowhere else to be.

Kiss me, like you won’t be speeding away soon.

Kiss me, like you did when we first met.

I’m on a long, grey, endless road right now.

Driving home to an empty, echoing house,

and so, I thought about you.

What are you doing now?

When will you drive those endless roads with me again?

I kissed the petals of the rose plant you gave me,

to say goodnight,

and hoped you’d feel it on your lips.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Road Trip

I popped my bubble gum,

turned the radio up,

as we sailed past the sun,

with the windows open.

I didn’t care if we crashed,

I simply had to kiss you, in that moment,

leaning across, until I was almost in your lap.

I loved you, the only way I knew how,

in my Lolita sunglasses and a short skirt,

leaving my lipgloss all over your face,

so everyone would know you were mine.

You told me once,

that you were glad I was here,

and I took it to heart,

taking a vow that I would always be somewhere close to you.

In your dreams,

in your bed,

in your hands,

my wrists bruising and sighing as they became yours entirely.

In your car,

is where I feel like being right now,

blowing another bubble as we pass the border sign.

I don’t want to be mine anymore,

and I haven’t for a while,

as you’ll no doubt know,

because it’s not just my wrists that have ambitions anymore.

It was never just my wrists.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

What Do You Want?

Confined,

I find myself getting lost in my mind,

because I’ve got questions,

I’ve always got questions,

but the answers are out of reach,

out of the picture,

and the lens of your camera flashes,

like lightning,

so I stay still,

stuck in a storm,

sticking with the idea that waiting is all I can do.

I like you a lot,

so I let you lock me up,

tied up and tortured by the fact that I’ll never truly know what it is that you want.

I couldn’t be clearer.

Clearing the landscape and planting poppies in a pattern,

so they’ll grow and give you clarity,

they’ll sprout and spell out

“I just want you”.

What do you want?

I like you a lot,

so I do whatever you want,

or whatever I think you want,

and I’m tied up in knots,

because my mind is a maze,

and I’m caught in your gaze,

as silence surrounds me,

and I quietly question,

with my eyes and my heart because my mouth is moving against me.

What do you want?

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

A Coffee By The River

I am going to meet you by the river,

as the sun sets,

and the moon settles into the night’s sky.

My nails will be black,

chipped and coloured outside the lines,

and I’ll wear that black and red dress that you like,

so you’ll know that I dressed up, just for you.

I will wear enough lip gloss to share,

new necklace for you to fixate upon,

my skin, soft and strawberry scented,

your name, all across it, in the ink of your kisses.

I will not be held in your lonely hands,

but they will know that my body longs for them,

my soul will speak,

in a frequency only you can hear,

and though we will be two meters apart,

two people together, but parted,

you will know that I am still yours.