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.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

I Love You, But I Have To Go

It’s all falling down.
London Bridge,
and all the things you dreamed of,
as you stared across the river at it.
I love you, but I have to go,
because there’s nothing else I can do,
except mourn you in solitude when I eventually arrive on safer shores, of course,
but for now,
all I can do is pull away my fingertips from your grasping, desperate hand,
tear my eyes from the face I’ve stared at for a lifetime and walk away.

I love you, but I have to go,
because you have to die so that I can live,
and I know you’ll never understand why,
but I love you,
more than my departure suggests, and I know this is best,
but something about the way you wail makes it so hard to hang it all up and go.
The sky is aflame,
we swipe the clouds left and right with warm hands,
but you know that I have to go,
don’t you?

I love you, but I have to go.
I love you, but you have to let me go,
and I’d tell you
“No, I won’t forget you”
but the way you cling to what’s left of me shows that you know I will.
I take one last look at your familiar eyes,
your gaze so defeated under the glassy guard of the Thames,
and my hand hurts without you to hold it,
but the world is aflame,
the sun is sleeping on the ground,
and I love you, but I have to go.

I’ll never know if you were crying,
as you slip further under the surface,
but you had to die,
so I could live,
reborn and free of who I was, with you.
I love you, but I have to go.

Maybe one day,
when it all cools down,
you can come back around,
but for now,
I have to rebuild a new girl for us to be.
I love you, and I’ll come back for you, one day.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

The Vanity Of The Violet Divinity

I am lost in my reflection,

painting away my pain,

ebony across my eyelids and pink paint on my soft lips.

This is just the vanity of the violet divinity,

with my eyelashes thunderous and thick,

throat full of codeine that tampers with my whisky dreams.

Dreams where I am not defined by what I see,

because I just feel sweet peach lights dancing all across my skin,

soft violins play out the sun set,

and I am so beautiful.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

The Girl In The Mirror

Everyone says you have beautiful eyes.

I think they may be right.

They follow me,

as I apply layer after layer of lip gloss in the mirror,

warmth waiting with every stare,

soft against my soul,

making my heart race,

because I appreciate the finer things in life,

and also because I’m a narcissist.

I hear you humming a song you wrote,

way back when you used to believe in love.

Like always, you’ll believe again eventually,

because it’s deep in your core,

like a kid who believes in Santa Claus.

I believe in you,

even when you don’t think I do,

and one day,

I’ll love you again,

entirely.

It’s coming,

in time.

You just have to give me time,

to remember your eyes,

your muddled but meaningful turn of phrase,

the way you get frustrated when you think you aren’t being understood.

I understand you.

I still love you.

I just need time,

to find a way to fix things between you and me,

because we haven’t been kind to each other.

When the world wasn’t kind to us,

I blamed you.

I always do,

but I never stopped loving you.

I would lie in bed,

letting you go to waste,

cursing the eyes everyone allegedly adores,

wishing I could wish the words you write from existence,

waiting for you to become somebody else,

somebody that someone else could accept,

but you are my beautiful girl,

with bad luck,

a bad sense of direction,

and a bit of a reputation,

but my sweet,

I still love you,

even if they don’t,

even if you don’t feel it from me,

I do love you.

Sweetheart,

you just have to give me time.