Morning Song (4/1/2016)

Another old poem I found on my phone that I wrote in summer 2015. I tried my hand at a sonnet this time. Not exactly Shakespeare but I still quite like it, even if it hurts to read it again now.

You are the crescendo of a love song:
I am drowned in your perfect melody.
I thought I’d never love and I was wrong
You awoke a fevered passion in me.
I keep the memories of darkened nights,
Kisses so easily taken from you
And sleeping cities with the brightest lights
And your hand in mine, we, the special two.
My mind rests in sweet silence with your touch
My fingers, your spine, my hair and your eyes
I didn’t know that I could feel this much
I was always dark, hoping for sunrise.
And you have brought the birdsong with the dawn
And all the fears I had for us are gone.

Spiders (30/12/2015)

I found some rough poems on my phone when I went through deleting things the other day. This one is a few months old, and I had intended to refine it, but there’s no point now, so I’ll just post it as it is.

I call them spiders.
Scratching, whispering
Intrusive thoughts.

They’ll hide from everybody else
But not from me.
Sometimes I’ll forget they’re there
And then a reminder:


I can’t drive them out.
They won’t leave
But for you, they’ll quieten.
Spiders die in my brain
And butterflies bloom in my stomach
When you look at me.

And sometimes
When you’ve kissed my lips until they’re sore
And said the sweetest things of all
They’ll hush.
Just for a moment.
Because I never felt this happy
That it could drown out all my sorrows
Even for a split second.

And we lie there
Skin on skin
And you ask me what I’m thinking about
And I say


And it’s perfect.

Because in those brief moments
There are no spiders
No skittering legs
No frenzied whispers
No you’re not good enoughs
You’re no cure, but this bliss
Will keep me fighting
And I can finally appreciate
The beauty in the silence

Apology (28/12/15)

I’m sorry for causing a scene.
I’m sorry for all the times I cried
On you
When it was on the shoulders of your friends
When it was into my pillow because I thought I’d lost you
When it was into my pillow when I finally lost you.

I’m sorry for being angry.
I’m sorry for all the times I yelled
At you
When I thought you wouldn’t read my work
When I got grumpy for no damn reason
When I had nothing left to lose.

I’m sorry for ending it like this.
I’m sorry for lying when I have to
Leave you
When I said I’d still be there for you
When I forgot for a second how much it hurt me
When I said that it was all okay.

I’m sorry for not being enough.
I’m sorry for trying because I was in love
With you
When I tried to be everything you wanted
When I tried to be the best you’d ever had
When I still couldn’t hold onto you.

I’m sorry for not being something you’ll miss.
I’m sorry for having to go on now
Without you
When I realised you had no hope for us
When I realised you wouldn’t fight for us
When I realised I’d never be able to save us.

Red/Blue (27/12/15)

Shout-out to Halsey and her song ‘Colors’ for the inspiration behind this quick piece.

I was red and you were blue
Together we made a lilac hue.

They always tell you that red means rage
And impassioned desire that belongs on a stage.

But red is the colour of the fire of anxiety
And of my lips after you’d been kissing me

You were as blue as the sky in your eyes
The calm and the strong and the sweet and the wise

You could calm the flames in me
You made me happy, made me free

I wrote sonnets about our love
You’d hold me tight when things got tough.

Then I was blue and you were red.
And it was purple which would strike this dead.

We weren’t the same shade as before
I wondered if that meant that I loved you more.

I was ocean, you were sunset
You touched me the first day we met.

But I swallowed you beneath my waves
And now our memories lie in watery graves.

The evening was always bound to end.
But I’ll never see the sun again.

Because red is the colour that tells you to stop.
Blue is the colour of worried tears that drop.

Red is the colour that made us end.
Blue is the colour that cries but can’t mend.

I’ll scream my love into a black, boiling sea
Because I loved you more than you loved me.

I Wear Dresses Now. (20/12/15)

There’s a clock at Waterloo station
And I always waited for you there
After ages doing my makeup
And deciding what to wear.

Always covered up in jeans
And shirts that hid my stomach’s sag.
I’d finger skirts in the clothing stores,
But I’d never bother looking at the price tag.

You made me feel beautiful
And I felt like I could wear that dress.
Pulled it off the hanger and hoped
That this time I wouldn’t be a mess.

I hoped and prayed you’d like that dress.
Didn’t own many before you.
I have seven now, mostly black
But I have a soft spot for the Prussian blue.

Leaned against you in a pizza place
Mumbled that it was for you
You told me that it was lovely
And that I was lovely too.

I wore a black dress when you
Gave me that Hungerford Bridge kiss
I found that dress the other day
Remembered that quiet, perfect bliss.

There’s a clock at Waterloo station
And I will always grieve for how
We fell apart, and that you won’t see,
Because of you, I wear dresses now.

Unique (3/8/15)

She loves him unremarkably.
Like so many before
And simultaneously, not at all.

She will draw patterns on his skin at twilight
These lines have been made before
But not on him, and not by her.

She kisses him in secret before dawn
Other lips have made these shapes
But not hers, not with his.

Her craving for him is mundane.
Billions have felt this way.
She will tell you why she chases him:
“I know that everyone, anyone
Could have this feeling.
But he and I are not just anyone.”