Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

There Is No Hope Of A Cure

I set fire to myself,

in my sleep,

sometimes.

Pouring out all my rage,

swimming under the sheets,

dreaming,

waiting,

nestling into night time,

and the freedom it brings,

being blissfully unconscious,

until I hear a good night,

returning home,

and I recall,

being young,

being eager to enjoy each night,

in case another one didn’t arrive.

I am tired,

as I lie awake,

not sure if sleep will join me again,

not sure if I just want my own company,

for a couple of hours,

as the good night goes to bed,

with water,

paracetamol,

and regret.

If you’ve ever wondered,

why I sleep so much,

then you should know,

I am tired.

I am tired,

of seeing this world sometimes,

and so,

I sleep,

to escape,

to distract myself,

from escaping entirely,

and even now,

I know,

you don’t know that I’m being honest,

and I’ll never tell,

in case you send me to an escape I do not choose.

I was not made for the wards,

or the morgues.

I was made for a meadow,

that exists,

only in my mind.

A place I’ve never been,

unless I dream it.

One day,

I might move there,

and you’ll stand over my bed,

exclaiming disappointment,

sadness and regret.

Or,

you won’t,

but I won’t know,

with my hair braided,

brain dead but happy,

flying through fields of wheat,

like an Austen heroine,

or a disgraced prime minister,

rested and restless,

as I explore newfound imaginary freedom.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Gemini

You went mad,

because you thought I didn’t find you funny,

and you had spent every day,

before you found me,

thinking that was all you were.

It’s not that I am resigned to remaining miserable,

no,

that’s not it at all,

and I do,

on occasion,

find you amazing,

amusing,

downright confusing,

delightful,

insightful,

interesting,

and bemusing.

You are a snowstorm of sentimentality,

that swirls all around me.

I reach up,

gripping on to each new aspect of you,

that I discover,

until I am snowed under,

melting and freezing all together,

a sun tanned slushy,

trying to sum up,

all the ways I want you.

So,

don’t think,

that I don’t laugh,

sometimes,

it just has to be internal,

because I am just overwhelmed,

by the eternal ways,

you find to surprise me,

by bringing a new kind of joy to my day,

every time I see you.


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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

New Year, New Me

I am living life backwards,

back,

unwelcome,

a mistress to my memories,

who will only see me discreetly,

under the cover of darkness.

Tell me,

why do fools fall in love,

with the days they’ll never see again?

Why am I wandering,

moonlit and miserable?

img_2352

There are fireworks frolicking in the sky,

the stars painted like a rainbow,

as Big Ben sings to the city,

that we made it through another year,

and I am furious,

at an inanimate object,

that is only doing his job,

and telling me the time,

because I’m not ready to sleep,

when I know tomorrow will be waiting,

as I awake.

img_2353

The daylight is cruel,

dancing in the distance,

further and further away,

every time I take a breath,

but the night is pushing me towards my next step,

ignoring my ill fitting heels,

and general reluctance.

I am clinging to the pavement,

praying for the world to stop spinning,

bells to be blissfully still and silent,

so I can hold on to the night a little longer,

but night can never take me back,

and I can tell by the way the day avoids me,

that day doesn’t want me either.



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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Car Parks

There was red and blue,

in the air,

sirens singing,

as I stared up at you,

like you were an old friend,

an old memory,

a stabilising slap to the face,

among the chaotic commuters,

questioning officers,

about how they should get home,

and what they should do.

I had been worrying

about a press release,

getting to the cinema on time,

paying the council tax,

but then,

there you were,

staring down at me,

caught on the edge of the worst of life.

gravesend-car-park.jpg
Caught at the edge of today,

crawling across the concrete of the car park,

your weary arms are waiting,

done with holding you up,

for all the world to see,

saying

I still want to stay”

I watch them cling to the concrete,

whispering

But I don’t know if I can”

and I wish,

so hard,

that I could change your mind,

even though I don’t know you like that,

or, at all,

actually.

Car_park_in_Gravesend_(34164270003).jpg
I saw you live,

though,

led back from the edge of goodbye,

into the horizon,

towards help and hope,

as I,

and all the chaotic commuters cleared the road,

going back to little problems,

like press releases,

cinema dates,

council tax,

so we didn’t have to think of giant concrete car parks,

and their habit of stealing people,

to take them to the sky.



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Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

I Drove You Crazy

I didn’t plan to spend so much time,

inside your mind.

Sweet sailor valentine,

dressed up in denim,

and your mother’s money,

precocious brocialist baby boy,

that I just couldn’t resist.

I never meant to mean so much,

just summer love,

or something to study,

but there I was,

traipsing through your mind.

It was just the summer.

My own was somewhere else,

sometimes,

when we kissed,

under sing song stars.

You complained about my expensive and excessive lipgloss,

and I made a mental note,

to punish you forever,

but,

you must understand,

I never meant like this.

I never meant to mean so much,

because I thought we were pretend,

so I was unaware of why you started to cry,

when I called you,

offering homework help,

and liquorice.

It was just liquorice. 

I never meant to move in to your mind.

I never meant to mean so much.

You must understand,

I didn’t think I had the right,

but,

still,

I dove inside,

and drove you crazy,

so you say.

I never meant to mean so much.


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