Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

The Well Meaning Angel

I am a weary traveller,
washing my hands of myself as I fall down at his door,
carrying every wound that I once hoped someone else would hold,
begging for the breakthrough of flaming valleys.

I am too weak to tell him that I do not want to be fixed when he finds me,
he doesn’t try to tell me that I am safe from my own soul and all the terrible, dreadful things it could do,
because he is a servant of my best friend’s father,
and he can never tell a lie.

I want it, but I cannot accept it.
He takes my tears and let’s them trickle back into my eyes,
but they never stay in place.
I take to the seas after sundown,
never going down with the ship,
because he has the audacity to save me, each time I try to drown.

A young man on the hill,
holding the child of a tree in his humble hand.
He guides me back to shore,
pulling me from the wreckage, when he must,
much too good to me,
and never asking anything in return.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Things I Tried To Stop Saying To Myself In The Mirror Every Morning

Look at me.

Let yourself be honest about what you are presented with.

I have never been a Princess,

never tainted and torn apart by a destiny,

never really on the road to anywhere special,

just dropped into a dull commuter town, sprinkled with a little exotic culture and left to get on with it.

Nobody who isn’t obliged with blood ties will ever love you.

I’m sure my mother was pleased that the inconvenience of pregnancy was over,

but no matter how many times she tells me,

I have a hard time believing that she was pleased with the result of several months of hell.

Still, if she wasn’t, she has been nice enough to pretend otherwise for thirty years.

We all know how my father felt,

the poor man,

tormented and torn to pieces by the demons that delved deep within him long before I was born,

never really having a chance,

but being trailed along anyway, for the amusement of the universe.

He used to look at me like it hadn’t all been worth it, despite him doing none of the work,

and I’d just nod back, resigned and relishing the freedom of giving up entirely.

Not even those with blood ties will fulfil their obligations and love you.

Look at me.

I have been falling apart since the day I fell to the Earth,

cursed, in such a cruelly casual way,

nothing special,

nothing so terrible,

just… there,

and I desperately want somebody to blame for the way it all suddenly hurts,

but nothing is possible,

nobody is culpable,

I just swallow a thesaurus and swallow the lump in my throat,

and I go back to brushing my hair in stunned silence.

Nobody did this to you. There is nobody to blame.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

How Insensitive

Each setting of the sun,
minute and moment brings me closer to you.
I can feel the fire of your arrival,
itching underneath my skin,
and though I’m still lost in my lonely lullabies,
fast asleep by the time the day begins,
I wake up when I feel your hand in mine,
every time,
without fail.

You’re on the way,
and I don’t know if I will ever be ready, to just be happy,
because how can I learn to live anew, when all my ghosts gather by my bedside?
They stop the clocks, shaking me from my sleep at 3am every morning,
to remind me how many seconds have slipped through my shaking hands,
and how unprepared I am to be truly loved.

Last night,
I rose from my nightmares and noticed that I only ever cried when I gave myself a moment to meet my memories.
I cried for the girl who cried in dark, windowless bathrooms,
her panic, trapped in her throat, as she scrubbed her skin until it bled, to get foreign fingertips from her body.
I cried for how cruel I was.
How insensitive I must have seemed, when I stared back from the mirror,
unmoved by her tears. How cruel I was, when I made her go back to the bed that she shared with her greatest fear.

I will never talk to you about it,
and you’ll feel excluded,
untrusted,
my cruelty continuing,
tearing apart a new, untouched soul.
I’ll never apologise in person,
but your face will join my ghosts,
and I will never sleep again.