Dysphoria

He chose me for my sadness, he told me; the challenge of it, of replacing the dead weight with life, my pallor with English rose. I know a project when I see one, he said, appraising my rib-caged flesh, my hollow eyes.  With each button opening, a mans desire. When he was done, I was sure I had counted each ceiling tile twice, compartmentalised each shade of white and grey, the slight mould of green in the left corner, the opal spider’s web on the right, the light flicker. My leaden legs shaking slightly with the weight of him; his breath in my ear. I wanted to slice him, groin to neck, and back again. But I soothed myself, my girly wiles, count to ten, then back again, Just remember to smile. 

We Found Wonderland

‘And in the end in wonderland we both went mad.’- T.S

It was that cheshire cat smile that did it

I was half in love, half afraid, I saw you through the looking glass

I would look at you like you were my favourite magic trick, a coin behind my ear, a tale on your tongue, how you held me close and licked your lips

We’re all mad here, you would say, your eyes crazed, a match between your sharpened teeth,

You could set yourself on fire and laugh, I am sure of it

But I was always too scared to tell you,

that I had seen madness,

but only in a boy from Pennsylvania

who didn’t know how to love me.

The Vacation Girl and The Men who Came to See Her

I am a dream holiday

A winning lottery ticket

A pre-suicidal Marilyn

Narcotic Beauty

They say, being with me is like chasing a fantasy

I’m always almost certain the novelty will wear off

What a curse it is, to be the type of woman who comes afterwards

to men who have already seen the world.

When you know he will go back to where he started off all along,

When you leave for vacation you always come home.

Starlit Witch

Scarlett hair and skin so fair

He wondered how such beauty?

A raven dream

A sex fuelled scream 

Such unaltered mutiny 

A witchcraft smile

magic for a while

but she was stardust poisoned

with vanity

Do not love a starlit witch

filled with lust depravity.

Millennial Love

Spoken word Poem.

I think if you were a better man you could have loved me better, but maybe we were just the worst thing that could have happened to each other.

I knew our millennial love was over in dust, when we started to talk about us in the past tense, and face away from each other when undressing and in bed, when we both pretended to be asleep, You couldn’t hold eye contact when we made love but yours were no longer the arms I would run to if our house, our life, our world  was burning down, my annoying habits were no longer endearing and you hated the sound of my laugh, how irritating  you were to me too, the relief when I kept thinking thank fuck we didn’t get married or get that joint bank account or have that baby we talked about when we were young and had less frown lines when life felt light the way only two people who are in love can feel it, I wonder how we got here, if it was me or you, but I hate the way you shout at me, at nothing sometimes, you are not handsome to me anymore, just unkind, stagnant, I don’t think I am as beautiful as when you met me, as when you loved me, I think that it is ok to age I think it is ok to walk away from love I think it is brave to look at someone  and say, I no longer love you, need you, want you,  I think it is ok to grieve  but remembering  grief always makes the other person seem better than what they were, like a saint on a pedestal with a light shining on them from above, fuck, I hope you find someone unlike me, I hope she is polar opposite even, and brings the light back into your eyes, the smile back to your lips, I hope you test the waters before you spend the rest of your life with someone else, I hope love find you when you aren’t looking and I hope the next one lasts, I hope the next one lasts.

Just Breathe

And you always had to remind me

to breathe

as though you were not the one

suffocating me

My lungs in your hands. My shaking body,

begging you to stop squeezing.

Go on, tell me again,

tell me how much you love me.

The Italian Tree

The August heat came with love and chance

A melodic butterfly gasoir dance

And stolen kisses underneath that old tree

The sapling brought from Italy

The one which grew up with me.

Ah, this old, crooked, strange tree 

My mother loved to tell this story

how it could live for thousands of years

but would only ever bear fruit once.

What a gift it would be, in this lifetime

How wonderful, if the universe, aligned 

In chance, in beauty, in laughter.

And like a bumblebee to lavender

That Summer the fruit came and so did you, to me

Your mouth on my mouth under the Italian tree

Orange fruit, sweet, and we

Two love birds perched underneath.

The Wolves They Came In Packs

When the wolf fell in love with the girl.

When the leader of the wolf gang looks your way in

worn out leather and faded tattoos

Believe him when he says he is no good, he had lived longer than you

Ah but his smile, that jawline, his hands on the small of your back

You felt safe for the first time in your life, really, despite the bad. 

He always smelt like hard whisky and smoke

Handsome with age

Hardened with age 

You wouldn’t cross him

If only by mistake like the time you smiled at that man across the bar

But you knew this whisky wolf loved you, really

He would scream it at you all the time, he’d steal flowers from the cemetery too, See I can be Romantic, he’d say, 

absent mother, abusive father, you never once saw him cry

You remember the wind in your hair, wild motorbike rides, 

Dancing on bars 

and tequila shots backwards, 

That time you were so drunk you nearly got his name tattooed, 

It almost felt end game, in bed, your head on his chest

the first time he told you he loved you,

The first time you told him you didn’t. 

That Hollywood Girl

They say she was born with a Marilyn Monroe fate

And many a handsome James dean came her way

How she was always ready with a flash of a 

Californian girl smile and a Hollywood laugh

Dressed up to the nines, pin-up girl thighs,

With that Dita Von Teese show girl vibe.

Well,

What’s a girl to do?

Why…

Break their pretty red hearts in two.

Wanderlust

I fell in love

with a nightingale

He took my heart

And flew away

Do not fall in love 

with a nightingale 

They cannot stay

For this you pay

Its the wind 

you see?

It calls them still

It whispers:

Fly away from her

She will never do you good

A home girl and a Wanderer 

will always be apart

So take off now just be a man

Don’t mind her broken heart

The nightingale must fly away

There are so many things to see

I know you want to look at her

But think of Paris, Spain and Italy 

So fly off now don’t be afraid

Her face, it soon will fade

Just remember it is yours, the sky

and soar soar soar 

up high.