Halls

I lie in bed,
My small alien bed;
Too soft pillows
And scratchy sheets.
The room is near pitch black
And I cannot make out
Anything familiar,
Though I doubt
This is because
Of my sight.
I’m starting to hear
Proof of the world
Awakening;
A cough here,
A door creaking there.
Somewhere close
Somebody is neglecting
Their alarm clock.
Its invasive shouts
Are not enough
To wake this
Snoozing champ.
And then –
Silence
For a few precious moments.
It’s as if I’m finally
Alone.
And everything that I think
And feel
And hear
And smell
And see
Is completely mine
And I cherish
This long forgotten thing
Called privacy.
Peace.
Quiet.
Calm.
But wait –
There goes a toilet chain.
And back to reality I go.

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Ode To Friendship

Siblings are a strange thing;

This here is my brother

Tied to me like a string

With blood like mine

And dark dark hair,

My damn straight nose,

Is what we share.

But here are also

Several sisters of mine

Who look nothing like me

And don’t share my family line

Yet they all still claim

Fragments of my heart

To take with them

Whenever we’re apart.

Wherever they may go

They must keep it safe and warm

Clasped tightly to their chests

As if to survive a storm.

Our memories will forever tie us –

We have faced many years together,

Seen each other’s tears

Both joyous and piteous, however

Our triumphs, of which were many,

Could often numb the pain –

All to bring us closer still;

Our friendship will remain.

You truly are my dearest sisters,

Best friends, old and new,

I couldn’t ask for any better

So this one is for you.

Packing Up

How does one simply

Pack up

18 years of life

And move it

Somewhere foreign

And unknown?

A place that has not

Earned my affection

Or the title of holding

Something as precious

As all my 18 years.

I do not yet know,

But I suppose I’ll find out

Soon enough.

Cathartic Writing

There’s something wrong
With me, you say?
Perhaps, though I
Would answer nay.
If cloudy skies
Grow darker still,
Ascent becomes
A climb uphill,
You know that I
Will still deny
My need to talk,
To breathe a sigh.
You may ask
Why I’m this way,
And honestly
I cannot say
For all I know
Is that these words
Heal those that
Are never heard.

Love At First Sight

I’ve never believed
In love at first sight,
Could not comprehend
That the cliché was right
But as soon as I held
All your weight in my arms
My heart became yours
And I fell under your charms.
You looked up at me
With inquisitive eyes,
Stretched out your arms
And let out a cry.
Then you soon fell asleep
And I just held you there;
Your whole life ahead
With memories we’ll share.
But for now, sweet baby,
Just sleep safe and sound
And know that my love
Can always be found.

Paris

Paris.
It is every bit as
Breathtakingly wonderful
As the stories tell;
Nothing can compare to
The mighty shadows cast by
The Notre Dame,
Eiffel Tower,
Sainte-Chappelle
Or Pantheon,
But it is also
So much more than that.
It’s the tiny details
That will soon fade from
Our memories
That are the best.
The satisfying crunch that
The fallen leaves make,
And that fresh smell of a bakery
On every street corner.
The squeals of the metro lines
And the romantic accordion playing
In the carriage nearby.
The welcoming people
And their appreciative stares,
The lack of judgement
Wherever we went.
The crazy whir of traffic
That still makes no sense to me,
And that everywhere you turn
It’s impossible to escape
The culture
And the history
And the beauty;
I never want to forget.

Look Up

Just look up,
Look up at the night sky.
A splattering of luminous stars
Covers the inky black canvas,
Like sparse freckles across
Creamy coloured skin.
But that’s not all.
It’s impossible for me to imagine
Everything that is out there.
We are but a near-nonexistent spec
In the well oiled machine that is
The Universe.
Too many planets to count
And stars that travel in a way
That seems to bend time itself.
It’s almost humbling,
Isn’t it?
To think that all that I am
And all that I’ll ever be
Is so incredibly insignificant,
And my life will be over
In what could be compared to
The blink of an eye;
The Universe
Is simply too wonderful
For me to matter,
But oh,
How wonderful it is.

Drunk Girls In Bathrooms

There’s a coven of girls
Locked away in the bathroom,
The steady beat of a brewing party
Can just be heard
Through the silencing door.
One is sat on the hard, tiled floor,
Bare legs pressed against the cold surface.
One is huddled in the shower,
Unaware of the
Drip
Drip
Drip
That is leaking from above.
And another is sat on the porcelain throne itself,
Lid up or down, it does not matter.
They whisper confidently to each other,
Sharing their hopes and dreams,
And their fears and regrets
Knowing that they are all
Sworn to secrecy.
Each one sipping out of
Their own poisonous cups,
The revelations flowing
As easily as
The sweet potion itself.
Someone cries,
Hard to tell who,
And then there is an abundance of
“I love you” ‘s
And warmth
And support
And potentially holding back each other’s hair
As the poison threatens to come back up again.
But as soon as the door clicks open
And the coven joins the crowd once more,
There are jealous eyes upon them,
Wishing they were a part
Of these secret meetings too.
However
No one will ever know
What was shared in that bathroom
And that truly is a marvellous thing.

 

A Princess’s Choice

There once was a princess,

Not fair, but quite bold.

She was not well loved,

Her heart icy cold.

 

She lived in a tower,

As princesses do,

Guarded by monsters,

But none such as you.

 

You were rather well known

In her land, far and wide,

For conquering nations

And mastering tide.

 

Her parents had sold her,

Given you her hand,

For just the small price

Of a little more land.

 

You’d heard of the girl

And her intriguing allure

So you decided to wed her

And claim what was pure.

 

Now the princess did know

Of the things you had done,

The villages you’d burned

And the maidens you’d ‘won’.

 

She was not prepared

To take your brute hand

And bow to her parents

For some vapid land.

 

When you raided the tower,

Fought hard, tooth and nail,

Killed off the dragons,

You thought ‘twas your tale.

 

But that is not so,

Because, as you’ll see,

The princess was waiting,

And the princess was me.

 

You strode through my room

With an arrogant swagger

And did not suspect

My small hidden dagger.

 

You cried aloud

“Fair maiden, just see,

I’ve defeated the beasts.

You’re now owned by me”.

 

“I think you’ll find”,

I spoke in reply,

“That your statement is false

And I shall not comply”.

 

You threw your head back

And laughed at my speech

Thinking I was a fool

With sense out of reach.

 

But you still failed to notice

My reluctance to move

So when you grabbed for my hand

I had to choose.

 

Did I want to live

A life unfulfilled?

Trapped and oppressed,

Preferably killed?

 

Or did I instead

Want something more?

Freedom and choices,

To live my own lore?

 

My choice was not hard

So reader, you’ll see,

I pulled out my dagger

And set myself free.

 

It’s quite safe to say

My parents weren’t pleased

With the corpse I sent back

And the freedom I’d seized.

 

I may still be known

As the cold hearted girl,

Not fair, but quite bold

In wanting life to unfurl.

 

And that, I don’t mind

For reader, you know

Of the choice that I made

And the life I did sow.

 

So now and forever

It seems that to me

I will be alone,

But alone, happily.

Is it nostalgia or love that you are feeling?

The truth is
I don’t want you.
I want the feeling that you gave me
Oh so easily.
The feeling that
You were a constant
Like a fervent lighthouse
Amid a tempestuous storm;
Only ever a breath away,
Even when the sea stretched
Far and wide between.
You made me feel as though
We were but stars,
Exalted specs of dust
With nothing but the expanse of the universe
And time itself ahead of us,
Indeed, belonging to us.
You made me feel safe, warm,
As if I were bundled in a cocoon of bed sheets
In my childhood home
That act as an impermeable fort
Protecting me from harm and wear.
It was as if all of a sudden
The contents of my heart
Had been scrawled on my sleeve
And I found joy in sharing
The special part of myself
That not even I am truly familiar with;
But she is happy,
And she is full of life,
And she is full of love,
So what’s not to like?
But still,
I do not want you back.
I want this feeling of love back,
To dig out the part of me that I truly miss;
Perhaps I should start by loving myself.