I am filled with ridiculous notions
of love stories and fairytales;
whilst I have never wished to be
saved, I’ve always wanted the
boy that will go further,
I’ve wanted the writer who can
describe my eyes in adjectives
that make my throat close up
or the musician that tells me that
there is one chord that he cannot
play without thinking of my voice.
I want fire, I want to drown.
I am intense and fast and honest,
I want a love that will match my
heart, I want a love that will make
it hard to breathe.
I’m sorry I’m late, happy birthday, you’re an adult everywhere in the world, be careful how you set it alight. I called your mother and listened to the ocean crashing in her chest; mon bebe est mort.
I wonder how your mother still prays to a god that took her only child. It’s been three years, but we’re all still holding on to a miracle for the boy with mutated lungs and a laugh so infectious that your mother joked that’s really why you lived in a hospital.
Jacque, what more is there? Qu’y at-il mon amie?
I get up, I go to work, I run; I work on autopilot sometimes because it’s the easiest way to get through the day but still, I remember you boy with green eyes, boy with an xylophone for a spine and dreams bigger than us all.
I’m sorry it’s late, I’m ashamed of my silence but my words could not keep you alive, what use are they to you now?
tout mon amour. always.
hello new boy with eye lashes
that reach for the stars and
a heartbeat that sounds like my
hello boy with feet itching
to travel the world and a taste
for the unknown.
I can feel your energy invading
my cells, I can feel your change
in my mind and your warmth on
my face like the sun.
we’ll start our day with tea and toast in bed, you’ll laugh at me, but still put two and a half sugars in my tea. You’ll sigh as I avoid the crusts, even when you butter all the way to the edges. I wriggle from the crumbs in the bed and you’ll complain about all of the animals on the pillows. I’ll put music on and we’ll dance around the kitchen, one of us will stub our toe and the other will blow a kiss to make it better but then we’ll slow dance before we remember that it’s a tuesday and we’re late for work.
maybe we’ll walk to the station together. maybe we’ll hold hands and swing our arms even when it’s raining. maybe we’ll be shouting because your mother wants to meet us for dinner and i’m certain that she hates me, maybe we’ll part at the front door as i run for one train and you run for another.
you might have left a note in my lunchbox, you might just be making fun of my childish bag or maybe you’ll say i love you for the first time. maybe you’ll email me to ask how my day is going and that you wish we could run away to the coast this weekend.
you’ll dance with me in the kitchen and hold my hand whilst we sleep, you’ll brush your teeth whilst I shower and talk to me when I’m in the bath. you won’t be annoyed (mostly), when my cats are invasive or when the lint roller has run out. you’ll shake your head when my dog has been nibbling on your bag or shoelaces. you’ll love me, you’ll love me, you’ll love me.
dear future lover, i don’t want much but you. i don’t want perfect, just content, just co-existence, just love.
he tells me he is addicted;
to the sun, the earth and my
I don’t understand why anyone
would ever stop loving you,
I don’t know why they would
ever start, I reply.
it’s been a while again and i’m sorry that i can’t. i’m sorry that i won’t. it’s been two years jacque and i don’t really remember your face any more, just the ocean in your mothers eyes, when i came back and you were gone. just her quivering hands and she held my shoulders and shook, before i saw a mountain collapse at my feet. you had eyes the colour of spring, but i can’t find your face in my memory.
it’s been forever jacque, you were fragile when i found you and no amount of stories could’ve brought you back to life. i knew how to sing you a happy ending, but we all stopped believing in god when he took yours. you promised that you were going to change the world, that you were going to set the world alight and everyone would know your name. i’m so sorry that you died a boy when you had the dreams of a man.
i never learnt how to say goodbye to you jacque, maybe because i always said goodnight and now it’s more than au revoir mon amie. the world was waiting for you jacque, i’m so sorry that you never got your time to shine.
je suis tellement désolé que les étoiles ne pouvaient pas briller pour vous, mais nous vous manque encore.
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 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.