I dreamt the world was burning
and you were there,
you held my hand as we watched
cities melt like towns made of
you said that if this was the last
thing that you’d see, then you
were glad we were together,
then you were glad I was there.
you matter, you are enough.
with your fingertips full of secrets
and your eyes glistening with
with that heart that lets me hear
the sea and your arms like a castle
to hold people tighter.
with your smile so fragile and such
a cautious optimism fighting the world
that sometimes make you want to die.
you are enough, you matter.
boys tell me that I smile
like I have a secret,
that I have mermaid hair
and they wish they could
hold me for days.
they tell me that my eyes
change colour whilst inviting
me for coffee
and sometimes they try to
guess my middle name.
I’m the girl they never take
home because their mother
warned them against girls like
me, with blue eyes and a sad,
I don’t love you anymore,
there is a dull ache which
resonates often and sometimes
I stare into space thinking of
your name and it burns like
lightening has struck every
I lie awake thinking of the two
years we spent entwined ready
to grow old like weeping willows
with days seeming like minutes
spent in our bed,
but I don’t love you anymore.
I thought I saw you in a
coffee shop, surrounded by
the noise of brixton market
and maybe I did. I’ll never know as
you wouldn’t have said hello, after
I walked out one too many times.
and maybe you’re reading this
and thinking of me as I’m sitting
in that Turkish restaurant that
was your favourite in angel.
maybe I broke you, maybe I’m
the excuse you use for not trusting
and maybe I loved you then, but I
definitely miss you now.
i wear lipstick to bed sometimes
and i like it,
kisses on the backs of my hands
and rough lips, dried by restless
nights and thoughts of you.
do you miss me?
your bruised elbows and soft
laughter in photos caught
half unexpected, suggest that
you love the clouds with more
vigour than you remember how
once, we shone brighter than stars.
there is a world in your
fingertips, you just have to
find the space where your
soul meets the clouds,
where your heart breaks the
barrier between heaven and hell.
the first time a boy bruised
my knees and left me broken,
my father asked me what I
had been wearing
and my mother told me to
be stronger, to fight the tears
and the urge to die because
I was better than that. I’ve been
choking on ice, frozen in my
lungs for years. for the words that
will never surface and the ghosts
that step out of the shadows
but only when I am alone, and I
am alone so much now that I
almost welcome the monsters.
and I get so lonely, that sometimes
I want to die just to see if there
really is a heaven or only this hell
that I’m living.
there are cracks in this heart and
an ocean in these irises that cannot
i remember when I had a castle that
soothed my trembling soul and would
wrap its walls around my bruised elbows,
i used to have knees that could only
be kissed by your lips, touched by your
fingertips, where did you go?
i lie in the bath feeling small or in front
of a train and i want to jump, i want to
remember having something to live for.
i have questions that mesmerise my mind
and haunt my ears, tears that leave my
eyes rushing like a river.
(why did you stop loving me?)