Old poems are like old photographs
they are a snapshot of who you once were

a memory
an echo of a former self
that cannot be erased

loose and yellowed around the edges
or sealed behind a battered frame

you must take from them what you’ve learnt
and pour it into new, brilliant words

How rare now,
is this touch of gold?

this majesty of purple tulips that tap out
love’s fingers

stretching,
like a babes arm towards it’s mother

mighty in feeling
this one second,

stopped on a watch
as if smashed in a murderous fall,

and in knowing,
that nothing lasts forever,

not even the taste of stardust
on lover’s lips

piece by piece
I built bricks
out of ashes,
cemented them
with hunger
so that they would
never be satisfied
standing still

my feet, like the roots of mighty oak trees
were planted firmly in the ground,
impatient with seeing the same view
I long to break free

but I can’t,
I can only grow tall
so that I might see a different one

In every whirlwind breath I take

in waves that contain
an absolute promise of freedom

in fire whose flames rise high
and tickle the sky

in forests that close in on me,
forcing me off course,
and leave my heart racing with panic

I long for your kiss
calming my lungs,
imagination and heart

I long for your kiss, completing me

People used to worry about nuclear bombs
I have never understood the building of bunkers

the arrogance or foolishness to believe
that if you survive

you will be the ones to rebuild society
on a toxic planet

I wouldn’t worry about it

I would gather all those I love in my house
and paint an X on the roof

we would hold hands as they aimed
for our target

and we would sleep together
knowing we were not leaving
a better world behind

you try
with a flint
and matches
to set a fire
in his heart

but the ice
that lives there
melts it as soon
as it touches it

and she knows
she will have to
either live in the cold
loveless and cruel
or be a moth to a flame
forever

this one's for September's sadness
splintered floors and splashes
of chemicals
that the doctor prescribed,
that you're not sure work
but are too scared to argue,
sweep your sadness into a clinical hug,
caress it like a dumb lover,
for it cannot speak aloud,
only yell inside your head
screaming banshees in the night,
thirty days, and thirty pills
and a bottle of *****,
September's sadness has an end
it cries out under blue lights
and sirens...

turbulent ocean waves do not scare me,

I urge them on to reach the sky,

knowing that they never will
but still holding a small amount of hope

that maybe, maybe

all our spirits can soar

infinitely

and we will never be grounded

again

I stand
with you
for you
even when
you go to war
against yourself

(especially when)

I see your heart breaking
love running through
your fingers like sand

I believe in you

stardust soul
you will drink
water from the
craters of the
moon

doing the impossible
dreaming the undreamable
living, daring, being

owning the space of the universe
that is designed only for you

My heart may crumble
in your hands
like Autumn leaves

but I am a Spring storm in waiting,
ready to drown yours in rain,
until it shrivels up and dies

We dig our graves with our fingernails,
imprinting the memory of the soil to them

to be able to claw our way back out again

when death wraps us around His teeth
and sinks them into our despairing necks,

people ask me;

“did you fight to the death?”

and I blink, not understanding the point
they are trying to make,

or else wondering if they are asking
to see the documented photos of my injuries,

“I would rather die!”
they say,

but I know how desperately
you want to stay alive

when a fist meets your face
and a hand smothers your mouth

and you can’t breathe

and you don’t believe in God,
but you pray anyway

Do. Not. Let. Me. Die. Here.

Please,

don’t

Death’s jaws will take you,
but you know that soil, now

and you can climb,
dear God girl, you can crawl

inch by inch

into the sunlight

is love like silent stars
shining in a midnight sky
or crying moondust into
a gigantic ocean of pearls

or is it merely veins
twisting and untethering
between two hearts

it is for the skies and oceans to know
but for mere humans to feel

if only green leaves, stayed green
flowers stayed in full bloom
and the autumn of our lives
didn't chase us down
until we tired, and collapsed
into submission

but we must make peace
with the seasons of our lives
for each can heal us
each can free us
each can save us

with rain there is cleansing
with brown leaves, you can crush hate in your hand
with snow, everything becomes pure again

embrace the changing year
before it falls into silence

When the flowers die
our hearts die with them
shrivelled, brittle and cold
winter waiting in slumber
for the next Spring bloom

Damaged girl, they say,
so damaged girl, I act,

don’t touch me,
for my fingers are fire,
and I will not hesitate to burn you to the ground,

don’t love me,
for my heart is a serpent that will
land a poisonous bite in your neck,
and I will not flinch, but look on,

damaged girl,
damaged goods,
unworthy of touch,
unworthy of love,

but do not mistake my tone for self pity,

for I am happy
burning my way through men,
as they have burnt their way through me

revenge is a flame on the flesh of one
who reminds you of your enemy

and a snake bite, in the neck of your abuser

we sighed
so deeply
that the moon
shook
and the stars
rattled
and the night
trembled
to know our names

our tears stained the ocean
but they were really pearls

to be cherished
in an antique box

our sighs and tears
moving skies and seas

breathing fresh life into
the universe

How do we go from surviving
to thriving?

to plunge our hands
into the heart of darkness
and twist it into light

to learn to bloom into a rose
from a rotten seed

I long to sing stardust from my lungs
and scatter the sky with diamonds

but I must learn how to live, first

to live and not exist

heathen heart -
you sank your teeth
into my neck
and drank my blood
like a fine wine,
lips dripping merlot red
you didn't care about
the consequences
in your moment of pleasure,
a volcanic eruption
of shame was waiting
but still you drank me down
deep, as if thirst was your plague,
as you drew for fractured breath
I trembled,
and in your eyes their was the slightest shadow of
remorse,
enough to stop you draining me dry, though?
to stop you leaving me an empty vessel
skin and bones
remains to be seen

we are the dancing shadows on your wall

birthed by the moon

voiceless, we sing for our hearts

captivity

rocks and bones, sticks and stones

a cage that shackles love

fearful of its infinite strength to heal

sun and moon, light and day

we break free

we are stardust

choking the throats of the unbelievers

along the road of disregard

I walked, hand in hand with destiny

teasing it to tell my stories end

greeted only with silence

and solemn vows

to keep placing one foot

in front of the other

until we reached our journey’s end

where my past flashed before my eyes

before making peace with every shard

of shame

You forged my heart

and stamped it
on every lover’s lips

every act of authenticity
got lost

in your haste to make
quick bucks of love

Your love ran through my veins

until they became

varicose

and now I am twisted out of

shape

and the natural art of bleeding is

all consuming

pain

He told me I had old eyes

that had devoured an ocean
and skies of midnight blue

so deep, that he was scared
to tip his toe in the water

for fear of being consumed
by my ancient seas

daydreams

you woke me from

with wine soaked kisses
and sugar soft touches

fingers, painting our initials on my back

my spine a canvas for the heartsick
artist

and his muse

forsaking their hearts for an age old tale
locked together in a common fantasy

that this is what love looks like

Like the desert,
your heart lives in a state of extremes

my fingers burn as I touch it, in daylight
and freeze, at night

I cannot live in its contrasting shades of heat
unstable and frantic

I have tried to tame the polarities of love

but was left broken hearted

myself

I held forever
in the palm of my hand

as pretty and promising
as a pink carnation

and you took your thumb and forefinger
and ripped every petal off

until all I was left with was a green stem
of memories and might have been

My eyes scan the empty night

stars burn my soul,
exposing the core of me

the darkness and light
that contrast in an infinite paradox,
that my mind cannot always bare

the moon picks my heart, like a flower
and treats it with a fragility it isn’t used too

my heart and soul now belong
to the endless night

and I feel a calmness I have not felt in years
knowing I am now a child of the universe

I still feel you

in the water that covers my toes
after another night staring out at the waves

in my shallow breath,
in my lungs that ache for a red wine kiss

in my blood that runs cold,
begging for the warmth of your touch

I still feel you
I still feel you
are you really...

gone

hearts beating,
black blood

limbs twisted together wildly,
like contortionists

fingers gripping onto fingers,
like icicles

something beautiful,
made obscene

we are a mere echo of love

the girl in the red dress
haunts my dreams

twirling through my nightmares
like a ghost

taking coffee at my breakfast table
like an unwelcome house guest

she carries herself with sorrow
with the reminders of every scar on her heart
one for each time it was broken

she walks hand in hand with darkness
for she has seen it, known it, felt it
with her very fingertips

I do not look in mirrors,
for their reflection will show

that the girl in the red dress
is me

my cure and my curse

wrapped in one flesh

whose fingers flicker lightly down my back

until I beg for moonlight

to conceal the shame of this moment

I stand a monument of your prosperity

but I am really just a fool who cannot

say no

Your memory is etched into my mind

as permanently as though it were stone,
and someone took out a chisel
and carved out your name

I cannot forget you,

after six glasses of gin, you blur
into something more beautiful, in character  

but it is still
your face
your hands
your heart

that have woven me
in the fabric of time and space

so that I am a planet

forever in debt to your sun

I look in the mirror
each morning
and see a stranger
reflected back at me

I take my fingers
and peel back the first layer
of glass, and reveal nothing

I accept that I have to invite this stranger
into my life, like an old friend
offer her tea, make her comfortable
love her enough in the hopes that one day
we may connect

and I shall no longer see her face
but my own, reflected, smiling

Fallen -
like Lucifer
we find ourselves a new home

scolding -
we toast marshmallows in the the flames
let them lick our feet

burn our hair
until the smell makes us
faint

for you,
and only you

I take tea in the fires of Hell

this heart of porcelain

vitrified by your gentle hands

I am delicate, you said

like an unplucked flower

I am just waiting to be

smashed, picked, broken

and you would stand in the smithereens

and cry

over a ruined masterpiece

but shed no tears

over the girl who sacrificed her heart

for your art

Your fist opens
like a spray carnation

I pick at its pink petals
teasing it to take my fingers
and weave them between yours

for us to hold hands
as the sun beams down on us

burning the flowers to dirt
offering them back to the Earth

There’s no crueller word
than goodbye

Until it’s accompanied
by the whys

I am not whole, you see,
for there is a hole that runs
right through the centre of me

a void of emotion
where fear, shame and despair

disappear from view

(from me)

rainy days can make my mind murmur, though
with a flicker of recognition

For even the sky cries, dear...

Even the sky

I thought about the body I have hated all my life

I asked it “what will it take?”

Less food
More food
More puke
More pills
More miles
Less stones

It never answers, so I was surprised to hear a whisper this time...

“It will take kindness, acceptance, love...

You have to love me, darling. You have to let go.”

bleeding ink from my fingers
I try to paint a picture with words
clumsy and heavy
the letters swim
and change
I smoke ten cigarettes
in an hour
desperate to tease some kind
of creativity from my mind
but the ink runs dry,
and all that is left
is a black handprint on the page,
the result of pressing down too hard,
trying to put my pain to paper

pale and interesting
wilts under the August sun

each ray eradicating a joke, a charming tale

your skin ****** with heat and as it cracks
seeps through everything you tried to hide

a boring soul, a wandering eye, a fickle heart

I did not mean to burn you, darling
but you just weren’t interesting

to me

we kissed on rain soaked
street corners

as each droplet looked
like a crystal on the
concrete

and on your wet lips
I tasted the word

forever

poets long to be held
in the embrace of words

caressed by consonants  
held in the void with vowels

to have letters wrap around their fingers
like fingers

their sadness lies in knowing
that each poem has an ending

and that most are no more
than a drop in the ocean

of history

I am tired of being
a pit stop for your love

I am not here to fix your broken soul
or refuel your depleting lust

my heart has it’s own wound
don’t make me try to heal yours

(as well)

I stay up waiting
for a sign

maybe it is in
the sun rise

or the moon’s fall
as the stars start to fade

and my love wanes
with waiting

I type as I live,
from word to word,
bouncing from the walls
of my brain,
as I try to find another image
of beauty or love,

I type as I live,
in a desperate frenzy
with nicotine and coffee stains,

I type as I live,
because I have no choice, no say, no control
in this

Like the moon and stars

we belong to the night

we do not quiver
when darkness falls

for our hearts and eyes

belong to the midnight sky

scars are stories
with next chapters

they are not
the final lines

they do not mean
you’ve reached
the end of the book

the promises
were too high
the cost of failing
to meet them
will show
in due time

a man without a gun
can still ****

with a word or without
an unsaid goodbye

to plunge a knife into a chest
pierces a heart and leaves it bleeding

a pool of crimson settling around
his feet

he will move away
when it gets too close to his toes

repulsed, not by his act
but by his lover's final offering

that means nothing to him