Sanity’s absence


I miss you baby,
I miss your smile,
I miss the way you’d lay with me,
And how we’d kiss every once in a while.

I miss you darling,
I miss your warm aroma,
I miss how your words were charming,
And how we’d slumber on the sofa.

I miss you handsome,
I miss your hands around my waist
I miss how the world seemed phantom,
And how we’d talk of dreams to chase.

I miss you man,
I miss you’re silly jokes,
I miss how you do the things only you can,
And how we’d leave the place in smokes.

I miss you mate,
I miss your voice,
I miss how we’d dance till late,
And how (haha) we’d always make the ‘wrong’ choice.

I miss you hun,
I miss your touch,
I also miss your fine ass bum,
And how I could sooth your worry with my own touch.

I miss you honey,
I miss hearing all the little details,
I miss how you’d find my stupidity funny,
And how you’d show me scars from your all tales.

I miss you b,
I miss looking at the stars,
I miss how you were there for me,
And how we engraved our own scars.

I miss you-
I miss you a lot,
All I do now is reminisce,
And revel in the taste this powders got.

I miss you.
I do. I hope you miss me too,
I suppose I need my friend back,
My sanity is beginning to slack.

Sweet Denial


As the words tumbled from your mouth, a laugh stumbled from mine. Don’t mistake me, I’m not mocking, only denying. Denying the idea that somone like you could fathom the idea, the notion and myth that you could possibly fall for me. Ha.

That’s where you fall down, where your weakness is. Yes you may have more knowledge of things I’m only just discovering, but I have more knowledge of myself. Something you’ve only just found. I see in your eyes that you truly belive you could love me, more than you already do. In a way neither of us planned to use.

You see the thing is, it’s not me, it is you. It is the way you love, it is the way you want to love and it is the only way you know how to. But I can’t be loved like that. I never have and never will. I’m not a dainty and elegant thing that can be loved by all and respond in the way they need. I’m not a rougue and wild woman whose lover loves her from a distance and that is enough for the both of them. I’m not the young sweet love which will last forever as long as you are happy. I’m not the tender caring love or the passionate and wild. I’m not the doomed or forbidden or the destined and desired. I’m none of the things that you understand about love. I’m all of the things you don’t.

I am person who cannot accept love, of any type, in any form, within any life time.  I blossom in the idea that I could receive your love the way you desired. But I don’t know how to. I don’t know how to take a man such as yourself, and turn him into a boy. I wouldn’t know how to love you so that you became the best of us. I don’t understand how to make you feel the way you want me to feel. I would do your love no justice, and that is something at which you laugh.

A person such as yourself is a blessing. Although you’ve lived through moons and starts and seen the worst of this world and of others, you still have a glimmer of hope that love conquers all. Another stumble.

Love does not conquer all, my dear, love is just the bandaid, the plaster, the cotton wool to put on a wound. All it does is shelter and protect something vulnerable. Love does not heal the wounded nor does it save them. It merely provides a basis for the weak and broken to try and fix themselves.

Which is why I cannot accpet your love. Which is why I must tell you “no” when you offer to me your heart, I would do you no justice and despite my yearning to be loved by you, to wake up next to your lips and to dream in your arms. Despite my body craving every inch of yours and my mind wanting to intertwine itself with yours. Depite my wanting whats best for you and caring for you no matter what state we may be in.

I must deny myself your unconditional offer. I cannot allow myself to be loved by a man like you, because if I did it would only be a waste of something so rare and intimate. So human and naïve, so pure and homely.

I must deny your love, my love, I have to. Im not ready to try and fix the wounds of years before. My wounds have become scars that run deeper than oceans on planets and abyss’s that duldge further than the boundaries of the earth. My scars can’t be fixed, soothed or remedied. I’m hopelessly broken but I’ve learned to live like this and this is how I shall continue to do so.

But I must thank you for giving my fractured ways a glimmer of warmth and hope, and maybe one day that will be enough to help my scars fade. And if they do, well, then maybe I would have learnt something new.

Tongue tied


I’ve lost the power to articulate,
My words, my sentence my chords.
Yet in doing so,
I found the phrases to please me so.
Should I have found love,
Should I have found the right words,
I would be able to tell you first,
How the strings wove,
How the hopes dove,
But I can’t tell you,
Partly because I don’t want to,
Admit the reality in which I avoid,
Yet also because I seem to,
Have lost my tongue and heart and the void,
In which my words would bless me.
Now I tell you of my pain,
Which allows me to be free,
And at the same time provides no gain,
For I know,
Should I tell you of my pain and hope,
I would  then be acknowledging the thing,
Which I have spent my entire life avoiding,
So instead I shall tell you of my loss,
The loss which provided me a way to express.
The loss of my heart and its tongue.
The loss of the ability to articulate,
For the young,
How I really feel.
Now we shall all have to wait.
Wait until my ability returns,
Though I doubt it will,
I’ll still not polish the urns.

If we wait


If we wait for daddy,
I am sure he will come,
And save us from mum.

Just be as quiet as a mouse,
And blend into the house.

Mummy’s special drink,
She says it helps her think,
While strange men wink,
And the sirens blink.

But if we wait for daddy,
He can save us from mum,
We just have to wait for him to come.

Hold me


Hold me little one,
Until the sun come,
Hold me,
With cheeks as soft as satin
And hands as warm as fire.

Hold me little one,
While we wait on mum,
Hold me,
With breathing deep and live
And us tum to tum.

Hold me little one,
When the storm come,
Hold me,
With eyes of care and hope
And the nightmare done.

Hold me little one,
While I hold you,
In this night until the sun come,
And the sky matched your eyes of true.

Hold me little one,
Until the sun come,
Hold me into tomorrow,
And promise to never let go.

The crazy loss of a mother’s voice


To lose someone, is for them to slip away.
To love someone, is to be there everyday.

She claims she lost me, she claims I left.
She claims I committed the crime of theft.

I did not leave her,she gave me no choice.
I did not steal from her, as it was mine.
My voice.

You still wait for me to return I see.
You still assume that I remain unfree.

But do watch out, my mother.
My lady.
For they say we are alike,
Stubborn and crazy.

My queen no more


Drifting away, further and further,
Cryptic darkness holding the secrets of your past,
Having to make each moment last.

He left for different reasons,
Do you have to wander as well?

Your favourite colour,
Royal blue.
The colour, so sad, so deep, so you
You, are my Queen.

Water enriched with sharp salt,
As bitter memories fall for you,
Your childhood, crestfallen and desolate,
You are my Queen.

The pain you feel everyday,
Loss can over take, make the pain go away,
But then I realise,
You are the one being lost.
My mistakes led you astray.
My Queen.




A four letter word,
Four souls who will miss you,
Our pale discs leak,
Along with our beating hearts.

I cannot lose you my Queen,
I only just got you back.

You are my role model.
My love. My life.
My Queen.

I want to keep you safe,
Wrapped up in cotton wool,
Until you go out like a candle,
No fuel left to burn,
Lost among the bramble,
My Queen. No more.

No more trips to white hell,
No more waiting for results,
No more goody bags full with toxins,
No more dissapointment,
No more pitying discs watching.

Mine looking at you.
My Queen.

You no more.
Me no more.
Complete no more.

Anything and everything no more.
My Queen. No more.

But before you leave,
There is something I must breathe,
My Queen. I want to whisper,
one more secret.

But my Queen.
I can linger a little longer.