They are jitters,
bugs crawling beneath my skin,
Leaving a tickle under there that doesnt make me laugh, it makes me uncomfortable and it spreads through my body.
My mind a toxic waste land spinning out tales of misery and what ifs,
Telling me that sleep doesn't exist in its world.
Anxiety isnt exciting, it doesnt always give me butterflies, usually it gives me moths that skitter and jump and leave their disturbing dust everywhere;
Pounding relentlessly into my vital organs and trying to climb my throat.
Blocking the only exit "help" can escape from.
Sometimes its knawing at me from the inside out begging me to tear my skin off.
Mostly its misdirected anger, fear and a crying fit I can't take back.
When its here I'm afraid of what may happen
But when its gone im terrified of when it will be back.
And it will be back.
its only a matter of time before a tangled mess of jitter bugs are nesting in my mind Once again.
Monday, 9 March 2015
Monday, 9 February 2015
A Photo
Take the photographs I purposely left you out of
Burn them hopelessly beneath your eyes and once you're tired of them
Throw them away and never look back
Don't worry about how that part of me will go away with it
Know that time is meant to be lived, not captured.
When you see the fear in my eyes
Don't run
Pull the fear out, examine it, remind it not to be ignored.
Fear grows under pressure, it feeds on your anxiety.
Watch the memories in your mind until they no longer hold any meaning
Show them light and remember them for the way they were,
Remove yourself,
Don't daydream about words never said
And leave out your romanticized ideas of how things really went.
Hold the photographs I purposely left me out of close,
Imprint them confidently beneath your eye lids and once you believe them,
Breath there essence in and keep the scent in mind
Try not to mistake confidence for cockiness
Know that accepting your worth doesn't undermine it.
When you see fear in your eyes
Embrace it
Pull the fear out and remind yourself you're not alone.
Watch the memories in your mind when you need them,
Show them patience and understanding,
Remove yourself,
But allow yourself to fall in love with them
Say the words you never said and feel every moment.
Plan a little but be prepared for change
When an opportunity appears, consider it
And if it terrifies you beyond belief, take it.
Burn them hopelessly beneath your eyes and once you're tired of them
Throw them away and never look back
Don't worry about how that part of me will go away with it
Know that time is meant to be lived, not captured.
When you see the fear in my eyes
Don't run
Pull the fear out, examine it, remind it not to be ignored.
Fear grows under pressure, it feeds on your anxiety.
Watch the memories in your mind until they no longer hold any meaning
Show them light and remember them for the way they were,
Remove yourself,
Don't daydream about words never said
And leave out your romanticized ideas of how things really went.
Hold the photographs I purposely left me out of close,
Imprint them confidently beneath your eye lids and once you believe them,
Breath there essence in and keep the scent in mind
Try not to mistake confidence for cockiness
Know that accepting your worth doesn't undermine it.
When you see fear in your eyes
Embrace it
Pull the fear out and remind yourself you're not alone.
Watch the memories in your mind when you need them,
Show them patience and understanding,
Remove yourself,
But allow yourself to fall in love with them
Say the words you never said and feel every moment.
Plan a little but be prepared for change
When an opportunity appears, consider it
And if it terrifies you beyond belief, take it.
Tuesday, 3 February 2015
Cheesy
You carve poems onto my tongue every time you kiss me,
Sign your name all over my body every time you touch me,
Write happiness into my smile every time you laugh,
Burn love into my heart every time you tell me that you love me,
Imprint beauty into my mind every time that I see you,
Your love shinning through my darkness like the northern lights,
Brilliant and colourful beyond words;
She laughs "Don't be silly, that's so freaking cheesy" and the clock melts into nothing, my cheeks get all rosy, I'd smile but I'm crazy and the lights bring me down.
Maybe I'm not a writer, words move through my throat like sandpaper as few as they come.
She's easy to breath, most beautiful creature I've ever seen.
Damn there I go again.
Sign your name all over my body every time you touch me,
Write happiness into my smile every time you laugh,
Burn love into my heart every time you tell me that you love me,
Imprint beauty into my mind every time that I see you,
Your love shinning through my darkness like the northern lights,
Brilliant and colourful beyond words;
She laughs "Don't be silly, that's so freaking cheesy" and the clock melts into nothing, my cheeks get all rosy, I'd smile but I'm crazy and the lights bring me down.
Maybe I'm not a writer, words move through my throat like sandpaper as few as they come.
She's easy to breath, most beautiful creature I've ever seen.
Damn there I go again.
Monday, 12 January 2015
Just Her
I love her more than the night air breathing cool dreams into my lungs,
Sending blood pulsing through my veins like a freight train- she’s magic.
Comparable to a memory reminiscent of the days I wished I could fly, not far from the pictures I had painted myself out of; back when I believed it was weird to think of girls that way.
She is Picasso’s Blue Nude lady finally facing me,
Lips tight, posture grandly defeated, so impossibly and profoundly human- she swallows me whole.
I am her echoing heart beat, counting loudly the days until tomorrow..
Hoping there will be tomorrow;
As I reach for her in my sleep, always wondering if she will reach back, whispering darling I love you, make the anxious go away- she’s home.
She is the highest note in my favourite song, the one I can’t stop singing even when I get it wrong and her adorable not quite laughter is ringing in my ears.
I would hold her until my tired muscles grew still and my lungs sang their last ragged I love you;
Because that is what night air is to me and she is so very much more.
Saturday, 20 December 2014
The Truth Is
She had a crazy natural way of just looking at me and my hesitations all to often faltered to her charm. I had become decidedly quick at answering her questions or saying yes to her prompts; for fear that she may change her mind and I would be left wondering what if. I hoped she wouldn't notice the excited quiver when I sometimes spoke to her or notice how awkward I was at being normal. If she had there was no sign of it. I walked- inebriated by the night air and the smell of her so close to me- in lines that could no sooner be called straight then lines at all. We were masked by darkness and unfamiliar sights and for me anyway there was a sense of freedom, of limitless imagination. We could be anyone to the world, to ourselves and to each other. I had no fears of what others thought about me or us. The only thing that mattered was that underneath all the bullshit she saw me; really saw me.
I don't think I had ever had so much feeling in just my fingertips; nerve endings exposed in my palm I never knew existed. At the same time it seemed as though the rest of my body was so incredibly numb.
I don't think I had ever had so much feeling in just my fingertips; nerve endings exposed in my palm I never knew existed. At the same time it seemed as though the rest of my body was so incredibly numb.
Sunday, 23 November 2014
Exhausting Purpose
We stopped, whole heartedly belting out a terrible tune- getting the words all wrong. And I remember thinking that there was no line between today and yesterday. Just the moon and the stars separating a tired old sun and our beating hearts counting the hours. Frail to amusement that came around once and a while; but mostly only heavy silence and cartoon anxiety.
We were ticked off school kids with a flaming desire for nothing more then adventure. Terrorizing hallways with our get back glares and mouths full of gossip. Far more oblivious than we could have ever imagined; with every purpose in our steps yet none at all.
We must have stood on top of staircases never quite imagining where we could possibly end up. And here beyond the walls of structure, struggling with a routine long passed, we wait on broken benches.
We scuttled behind desks bigger then we were once used too, crammed into classrooms full of people more driven then the cars we owned. Names became familiar but faces were always distant and we floated between acceptance and isolation. Pressure built its way around downtime and sleep, while relaxation became a word better known as sanity.
We revelled in the sense of purpose, of belonging. The lights were dim but the road was long and we never thought it would end.
We started listing student as our job when asked, and though at first we didn't tire of its explanation eventually our degree became something entirely different- because no one seemed to understand. Or the endless comments were always just the same.
We took pride in our inside know how and found comfort in the idea that life was just beyond that expensive little paper.
Or at least we could believe.
Life in the blink of a shuttered eye, sheltered by purpose, reaching always forward but never quite grasping the moment. Which at a moments notice
Is already gone.
We were ticked off school kids with a flaming desire for nothing more then adventure. Terrorizing hallways with our get back glares and mouths full of gossip. Far more oblivious than we could have ever imagined; with every purpose in our steps yet none at all.
We must have stood on top of staircases never quite imagining where we could possibly end up. And here beyond the walls of structure, struggling with a routine long passed, we wait on broken benches.
We scuttled behind desks bigger then we were once used too, crammed into classrooms full of people more driven then the cars we owned. Names became familiar but faces were always distant and we floated between acceptance and isolation. Pressure built its way around downtime and sleep, while relaxation became a word better known as sanity.
We revelled in the sense of purpose, of belonging. The lights were dim but the road was long and we never thought it would end.
We started listing student as our job when asked, and though at first we didn't tire of its explanation eventually our degree became something entirely different- because no one seemed to understand. Or the endless comments were always just the same.
We took pride in our inside know how and found comfort in the idea that life was just beyond that expensive little paper.
Or at least we could believe.
Life in the blink of a shuttered eye, sheltered by purpose, reaching always forward but never quite grasping the moment. Which at a moments notice
Is already gone.
Her Loving
Her loving is unlike anything I’ve felt before.
Its an undeniable pleasure, an indescribable craving.
Her loving is the perfect contrast;
Her soft lips pressed firm against mine, rough and passionate, tender and yet so lustfully egar. Every nerve on end,
my hand tangled in her hair desperately trying to bring her closer.
Her loving is like a song;
Her melody plays in my ear, the most beautiful harmony, a fusion of tapered breathing and sounds only my body knows how to respond too.
A song I don’t quite know the words to but I would listen all night long just to get it right.
Her loving is intrinsic;
She knows my body, she listens to it, she moves with it, her hands exploring and recording my movements.
Every caress feels meant for me and I cannot get enough.
Her loving is essential;
Physically from her hand in mine too our bodies intertwined, the way we fit so perfectly side by side, the nudges and dancing our slow kiss and fast pace.
Her loving is essential;
Mentally from our silly conversations to the overwhelming confrontations, the bubbly emotions and confused commotion of it all coming together at once.
Her loving is beautiful
Its an undeniable pleasure, an indescribable craving.
Her loving is the perfect contrast;
Her soft lips pressed firm against mine, rough and passionate, tender and yet so lustfully egar. Every nerve on end,
my hand tangled in her hair desperately trying to bring her closer.
Her loving is like a song;
Her melody plays in my ear, the most beautiful harmony, a fusion of tapered breathing and sounds only my body knows how to respond too.
A song I don’t quite know the words to but I would listen all night long just to get it right.
Her loving is intrinsic;
She knows my body, she listens to it, she moves with it, her hands exploring and recording my movements.
Every caress feels meant for me and I cannot get enough.
Her loving is essential;
Physically from her hand in mine too our bodies intertwined, the way we fit so perfectly side by side, the nudges and dancing our slow kiss and fast pace.
Her loving is essential;
Mentally from our silly conversations to the overwhelming confrontations, the bubbly emotions and confused commotion of it all coming together at once.
Her loving is beautiful
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