Your Song (31/7/15)

You are the song I play loud in the car
Screaming down the motorway
As I belt you at the top of my lungs

You are my drunken yells at 2am
I will spill my drink as I roar your words
In a cheap club that smells like beer
Dancing to the beat that everybody knows

The sweet tune of a busker on a busy London street
I can hear you in every note, every word

You’re the commercial jingle that gets stuck in my head
I’ll hum you all day long

The song I turn up the radio for:
That’s you

You are a love song
And sometimes I may sing the words wrong
Because I am so wrapped up in ecstasy

Fire (20/7/15)

This is really quick but I had a tune in my head that wouldn’t leave, so I wrote this to it.

Never thought that I’d like pain
Never thought you’d gasp my name
Never believed I’d love again
Never thought I’d go quite this insane

Oh, lock me away
Throw away the key
Because I cannot breathe
When you’re looking at me
I am on fire
And you’re the oxygen
I think that I might die
If I see you again.

Hero (18/7/15)

For when you notice that someone is so quick to help and save others, and they inspire you to want to help you save yourself.

You save them every day,
You and your effortless way of being good.
I sit in the audience, my face upturned towards you:
What if you saved me?

A tempting thought, but ultimately, useless.
They all tried before and they failed.
I am not trapped in a burning house
I am not drowning in a boiling sea
And there are no dragons imprisoning me.

But you make it a little easier,
And I can cut myself loose of these ropes
When I see you smile.
They might bind me again later,
But then they’ll be easier to break.

I am choked by myself,
And only I can relinquish this hold.
Until then, I will watch you and your selfless acts
And see if I can learn a little myself.

I will watch you rescue them all, but darling
You do not need to rescue me.

Lucy Couldn’t Say No (6/7/15)

This is very rough, I will possibly refine this later.

It was summer, and Lucy was eight
She was called to by Marie and Kate:
“Lucy, won’t you come and play?”
She knew she shouldn’t go through the gate
And mother would hate her being out so late
But Lucy, she just couldn’t say no.

Fourteen years old, she stayed out all night
Didn’t come home till the sky was bright
She wandered back in her dress so white
He’d touched her there without an invite
When he’d checked that there was nobody in sight
Because Lucy, she hadn’t said no.

When Lucy had just turned eighteen
She met a man with eyes of green
“Miss Lucy, will you marry me?”
She ‘um’ed and ‘ah’ed, not to be mean
After all, he did seem rather keen –
And Lucy, she just couldn’t say no.

When Lucy, she was thirty-two
She bought a pretty dress of blue.
“It’s whorish, what is wrong with you?”
Her husband made her go out to
The garbage, trash that dress so new
And Lucy, she just couldn’t say no.

When Lucy, she was forty four
A man came knocking at the door
“I can’t stay away any more.”
He had been her lover before.
She didn’t want him any more
But Lucy, she just couldn’t say no.

One day there were footsteps on the floor
She pushed her lover to the bathroom door.
But her husband knew the score,
The door burst open with his anguished roar,
And she stood and let him call her a whore,
Because Lucy, she just couldn’t say no.

When Lucy’s husband finally passed
They asked why her mourning didn’t last
She’d gotten over it awfully fast.
“Do you miss him?” they all would ask.
And she would nod, her eyes like glass
Because Lucy, she just couldn’t say no.

When Lucy, she was eighty-nine
They asked her for the final time
“Did you get all you wanted in life?”
And Lucy smiled, and Lucy cried
And without an answer, Lucy died
Because Lucy, she just couldn’t say no.

You Asked Me What Was On My Mind (11/6/15)

I am washed out, wasted, and wonderfully
Flushed with red from your tight, sweet hold.
You haunt me like a welcome ghost
That whispers warmth instead of cold.

Here we are tonight and you are silent
And your mouth talks in other ways.
I am fit to burst with love and yet
I have nothing more to say.

Except this.

With you, the hours blur together into forever
And you hold the summer sky in your eyes.
Your hands are the gentlest I have ever known
And I will let you hold this heart of mine.

Weed/Rose (28/5/15)

I am a weed, and she is a rose.
But it was I who felt your fingertips upon me
You pulled me out:
Not to destroy, but to keep.

But from my pot on the window-sill
I can still see her
Blooming in the sun while I
I am in the curtain’s shadow.

My leaves only wilt and droop
While she blazes like a crimson heart
In the middle of your garden.
I only have one question.

Why, oh why, my love
Did you pick me
When you could have picked her?

Dear Sylvia Plath (25/5/15)

You were well-educated
You were brilliant
And you were promising.

My pen runs lines under your words
As I search for an answer.
Thirty-one years separate your end
And my beginning
And yet you knew.

I cannot spin verse like yours
Though my whole heart aches to try.
But I do not need to tell him
All the beautiful ways in which I love him:
You have already done that for me.

And when I cannot move from my sheets
Because my mind is filled with grey
I do not even have to wonder.
I know you felt this too.

When I look down at my own words
And tear them into pieces
I know you felt this too.

When I tasted death in a quiet room
I knew you felt this too.

But my eyes opened to a new day.

You didn’t feel that.

You were never useless
You were never indifferent

And you were never middle-aged.

2.37 AM (5/5/2015)

My mind is clear.

There is silence, but, as I arise
My feet boom on the carpet.
Every shiver on my skin
Rings like a bell in the still air.

When the sky is dark,
My thoughts are bright.
Those creatures of creativity
Must be nocturnal.

Too cold. Crawl back into bed.
I think about my life and love
And I can almost feel how much
My heart wants to burst.

My thoughts are spurning novels.
If it was evening, I’d pick up a pen.
Everybody feels like they could do anything
When they’re awake at 2.37 AM.