names

when they said his name, I didn’t think of the way his hand touched mine. for a second I forgot about the words I spit from my mouth when his tried to taste my tongue. no, I thought of when he spoke your name and asked what I saw in you. I remember that night you kept me safe when his hungry eyes saw me as nothing more than a mouse to chase. I may not remember that night, but I’ll never forget that in my darkest hours you were my light. I was the match and you were my flame. now you’re nothing but a burned out wick and I’m smoke in the wind. memories of us have began to fade but I’ll never forget how we burned together.

dear god, we could have set the world on fire.

WHO AM I ANYMORE

She was rose petals, and frilly skirts. Blonde hair and curls, always perfectly placed. She’d drink bubbly teas and ask strangers what their names were. I remember how bright the days were then, always seemed more vibrant than the past. Though these days never did quite seem to last.

She’d fade to this mellow gal, wearing overalls and had buttercups in her hair. Sometimes it was blue, others red, I think at one point it was even hot pink? She changed it so often I’ve lost track. Always smelt of fresh leaves and tea tree oil. I think she was forgetting to take care of herself. You could see the glossiness in her eyes, something wasn’t right but you couldn’t pinpoint just what. She’d hide it well through this ‘healthy’ thing she decided to take up. You know, green tea and yoga on fresh cut grass in the summer breeze. A charade that she truly believed.

Slowly, she’d forget. At first it was the occasional ‘I’ll do it tomorrow’, but tomorrow never quite came because each day would be the same. She switched her high waisted skirts and crop top tees for band shirts and ripped jeans. Her colourful hair was outgrown roots, tied up in messy buns. Not quite so bright, but nevertheless fun. But then.. came the drinking.

One night turned into two. And two turned into a week binge, having to be carried home by the club bouncer because she couldn’t do it on her own. She started asking strangers what their names were again, but this time for different reasons. She seemed to be missing something, herself maybe. That glossiness in her eyes was now a vacant grey and those grown out colours were switched to jet black hair, pierced her nose but swore she was okay. Tea was now whiskey at the bar where you could find the local punk bands play. Doing cocaine in bathrooms with boys she just met who she swears she was friends with. She was fun in a different kind of way. She was dangerous, a hollow shell trying to fill the void by any means possible.

The void slowly began to grow. She stopped going out to drink, but instead did it alone. Drank in dark rooms and wrote about how she used to be. It wasn’t too long ago but it’s hard to think that that was her. Instead now memories haunt her of her dark past and she realized that each part of her was trying to run away. And each time the memory of their hands on her, she would split into the next girl. Each time draining her to the point where she’d forget who she was before it began. And now she’s realized she’s ran all she can.

So she sits there, mind muddled between each of the girls she’s created and the nothingness that’s been slowly eating away at her mind. She doesn’t remember how she got here.

And I can’t believe that she’s me.

2:16am again

I can’t stop crying and it’s not like a tear now and then. It won’t stop and I can’t stop, I don’t want to. I just feel so lonely, and not a lonely that I’m used to. I kept tell myself and others that you need to be okay on your own but I’m at the point where I’m always alone. I drive people away. I don’t have anybody. I keep thinking I have you but I’m not even sure I do anymore.

I think I’ve made up this delusion that you still care and are in my life, because without that I’d truly have nobody. I’ve opened up to you and I’m so scared that you’re closed off because that would cause everything to fall apart. We don’t even talk, and you’re not even there when I call half the time. Probably more than half the time.

But I think I would go crazy to know you’re actually gone. Though I also want to know if you are so I can hide away from everyone. Without worrying if I’m leaving anyone behind. I’m just.. I don’t even know anymore. I’m nothing.

I don’t want to exist, in some ways I feel like I don’t. How that is, I’m not quite sure. I mean I’m here but not you know?

I know you must get tired of my late night texts/calls, but if you’re up please answer. You’re the only person I have that I actually talk to and I’m just feeling.. I don’t even know..

like a fish on a line

Now I wonder if your “I miss you” was just a whiskey-fuelled way to keep me around. I’m tired of being that late night call, knowing you smell of cheap booze and cigarettes while I lay in bed wrapped in your t-shirt. You feed me sweet words and empty promises that I know have no substance but it keeps me going. I feed off of your distance, it keeps me grounded. You’ve become my centre, and I’m left wandering aimlessly as pieces, hoping you’ll bring me back together. I’m tired of leaving messages that go unanswered, of being nothing to you until you’re satisfied with where we stand. Reeling me back in like a fish on a line, with no intentions of unleashing the hook you’ve pierced through my lip. And I haven’t realized the damage it’s done because each time it rips, you kiss it better. I don’t know any better. And you know that.

What will it take? Until you tear me apart?

voicemail

Dialling your number with a sigh of regret, knowing there will be no answer. There never really is. While I’m laying in the dark, you’re swallowing down vodka and probably kissing a strange girl’s lips. I just need you right now, that’s all that this is. I just needed your voice, I just feel so low. I’m okay with just the bar noise or even if it’s only a “hello?”

lately, I only hear your voicemail recording

she was always my type 

When we met, I was warned
Yet you weren’t my type so I took that warning lightly
You weren’t my type,
yet I’ve held on tightly
When you walked away the first time,
I repeated,

You’re not my type

Thinking that I’d be able to let this go, without a fight
But you were right
You’ll fall in love with me,
you said that night
You were right

Now all I think of is the way your eyes danced in the light
How I tried to hurt you due to spite
The times I tried to cause a fight
In hopes instead of walking away
You’d ask me this time just to stay

You were right
You were right
And now I try to keep my love at bay
For you didn’t stay
And I’m left feeling as though
my heart’s astray

3am thoughts of you

I wish I had the courage to ask you out on a date.

I sit here, nearly 3am and all I can think of is your warm smile and gentle eyes. Wanting to have your head against my chest, body wrapped in mine.

I know you’ll not agree as your life is too busy. Just once, I want to relieve you of the commotion you deal with daily.

It’s not possible, but if I could beat impossibility – it would be for you. 

You’re so deserving of a break in chaos, even if you may disagree. I see you differently. Perhaps it’s the glow of attraction that’s been sugarcoating your flaws.

Maybe it’s that I’ve finally seen past your tough exterior, to the gentle soul behind tough words and anger.

It’s a flaw of mine that I’ve always searched for the good in people. Yet this flaw has allowed me to experience such happiness, in the strangest forms.

You grant me happiness, even with the way you’re never here.. I appreciate your honesty.

And I want to return the favour.
I want to show you that someone cares, selflessly. 

And that person, is me.

A Not-So-Merry Christmas

This isn’t poetry.

There’s no way to poetically word
how your fist hit my cheek or how
your hands wrapped around my neck so tight I wore a scarf until New Years.

365 days have passed and I still remember how I spent Christmas;
with a bottle in one hand
and an ice pack in the other.

Trying to soften the bruises
and ease the swelling caused by
your not-so-sweet hands while you were nowhere to be found.

I spent it alone while you were probably out with her again.
Maybe I tried calling you,
if I did you didn’t answer.
That’s something I don’t need to
think hard about.

That’s something I was used to,
you disappearing after etching your fingerprints into the valleys of my skin, leaving reminders like
red ribbons on my forearms.

Yet it was never a gift, more like
a painful reminder of the present.

Hoping to forget your hate-filled words you spewed from the bottom of the stairs.
Hoping to not remember the fear that had risen in my chest,
hearing your footsteps get closer
as I lay in the dark.

I’ve always feared the dark,
but it comforted me more in times of pain than you ever had.

Now I lay in the dark,
bottle in one hand.. pen in the other.
I spent Christmas alone again,
this time by choice.

For these memories are the reason
I find the holidays not so jolly.
I’d rather just forget.

Lie to me, with me, whichever 

I know,
I promised you’d never hear from me again
But sometimes, I break promises

I break them when I don’t want to
When I don’t know what else to do
I come to you

Sometimes,
the weight on my chest
makes it hard to breathe

And you’re like a breath of fresh air

I want you to be here
But I know you’re not there
It’s not fair

Sometimes, I’ll sit in the dark
Letting time pass
Hoping to hear from you

Waiting for a message

that may never come

Hoping that maybe, I’m wrong this time

I’m never wrong but, dear god
I would choose to never be right again
As long as I get to hear your voice
And have you next to me in bed

Sometimes, I lie

I told you
that you’d never hear from me again,

hoping you’d ask me not to go this time