What if I'm sick of it?
What if I'm sick of the role you have so eloquently written for me?
What can I do if you are obsessed with colouring in the lines while I yearn to draw outside of them?
What if I go off script and say something foolish, dumb -stupid even.

What if I want to let go of it?
Let go of the loneliness that accompanies the burden of being perfect.
What if you realise that the higher you set your expectations for me, the further you will fall.

I am not ready to carry that responsibility.
I am not ready to be perfect.

the cars outside your window
you think of them like waves,
the ebb and flow
of tides. the light flooded
the bed sheets and i stared
in the mirror at myself.
wine-stained shirt covered
my heart from yours. my eyes
begged for anything more.
more of you, perhaps. more of me.
more of the night designed
to mask the reality.
the cars sounded like waves,
your voice sounded like honey.
my fears sounded like snow.

Of that day we spent together
I remember birch trees (I took pictures of the cuts in their silver bark)
And your shoes on the wet punt (I took pictures of that too)

And I remember that you smiled, excited
I went and bought bananas at the corner shop,
I was excited too.

Then your brother came
and made me feel uneasy
for coming back to say goodbye.

I didn't want to leave, really.
I never do.

On the white stripes of concrete
In hackney
Wet spring petals
Like a pink
and white cosmos

Do You know
what Brexit is?

When I'm about to check-in
It seems to be some fun to wonder
Will we let you back in?

I've lost my accent
to the rainy days of summer here
Grown paler in the slanted rays of sunlight
I've cried
And slept
And loved on a double decker bus

But all you think -
You say:

You know,
England is my home
Ha! How small, this world!

Then, at the passport control,
If you ask me
'where'd'you go?'
I'll reply:
I'm going to yours.

Sweet Maya
the house in Median road
is shedding tears for your departure
Flying fridge doors
whimper
and refuse
to be fixed.

I’ll miss you
and your running fairy lights.

Even in darkness she glows. She thunders on into the night.
She flows through me as I do her. She's a insatiable addiction and I know I need her more than she needs me.

And I know I can never leave her.

In the blink of an eye she chews up lives. Swallows hope and spits out pride.
And even as I breathe heavy she keeps pace with me.

She is pretty, my city. And she's mine.