My world is kind, boring and bright.
Cream walls and yellow lights,
Plain and dull simplicity.
I rot in my own anonymity.
Replaceable in a hundred ways.
I do nothing but sleep away my days.
Nobody knows me, I know nothing
I have no conflict or painful something
That makes me interesting or worth a shout
I don’t have a thing worth writing about.
Even though she is the great unbending
I hope Atropos at least gives a good gripping ascending.
I burn my futures and fig trees in waves
As a thousand tortured souls turn in their graves
Because the present passes and the future has ways
Of tormenting me with identical days.
Their stories are beautiful and tragic and precious
And I hate that I’m so damn jealous.
As disease spread,
The loneliness begins,
The isolation becomes real,
The nights become long.
As we hide behind masks,
The thoughts become loud,
The pressure becomes too much,
The being is never enough.
As needles plunge into arms,
The fault is still ours,
The thread is about to snap,
The freedom feels far from reach.
My head pulses with anxiety,
My body caves in
As I hide
From people I fear.
A thousand choices
To three words.
Three paths, each unique
But which to choose I do not know.
Competition surrounds me.
Who will score the most points?
Who will be forgotten?
And it tastes like bitter saccharin when it hits –
Hits like bricks. Spit it
But, it sticks like paste.
Saline – like a salt ring
‘Round a snail to keep it in
The sightly shell…
I am Chelone: too slow for the male bolt…
Or like the solution
Preserving the rose-tint;
Pink kept under your thumb.
He sits at the back of the classroom.
A boy so quiet you would think passes unnoticed,
Except he doesn’t.
You are aware of his every move.
From the mutters under his breath,
The stretch of his shoulders,
To the shaking of his leg.
The lifts of his brows
To the rasps of his laugh.
A boy so quiet you would think passes unnoticed.
He sits at the back of the classroom,
Laughing with his friends.
He stays silent,
Keeping his oh so many opinions to himself.
You try to reach out,
But it’s like grasping onto loose ends.
A boy so quiet,
That becomes unnoticed.
It’s a Big World
It’s in these halls I walk down every day,
The stories of others criss cross in every way
Each world is intricate and complex,
It’s in this way my mind can be vexed.
I look at my own world, it’s simple and sleek,
I talk to the lovely girl sometimes each week.
I’ve fallen in love, it’s new and it’s bold,
But her world is complex, she’s lonely and she’s cold.
It’s in these walls I stroll past every day,
I now hold the memories of a once quiet May.
I’m in love, there is more to this place than just me,
When I talked to the lovely girl, there’s more than I can see.
It’s a small world, but it’s also inconceivable,
Ignorance is a blanket that is also crass and evil.
I’m bounded by love to do something joyful,
To make up the peace that’s been lost by the shameful.
A Day in School
Tyres screech on the wet road,
Approaching school, a second abode.
Heart beats quicker
As I step out the car,
Beads of sweat coming out my hand,
As I make my way to another land.
Nearing the gates now,
Heart pounding like a rock.
Reared into our classes,
I sit in class wishing the day away,
Until the clock strikes four.
Fleeing from this broken land,
I tell myself,
“Only two years left.
Like my kinky curls, intertwining and loving each other
Forming a complex crown that shields my wild thoughts
I am an unlovable mess
Like my deep, dark eyes
Leaving the deep, dark riddle that is me unknown
I am a dangerous mess
Beware, you might get lost
Because in all this mess, there is beauty
I am a beautiful mess
When I Needed It Most
At a time when I needed it most, religion abandoned me.
I thought it was my choice, this was how to be free
And put an end to the person I never wanted to be.
Instead, it left a desperate hunger for something to believe,
But I have no faith in God, no faith in the world, or in me.
I looked at the gaping hole deep in inside,
The rotting edges that I wanted to hide.
So I filled it with whatever the world supplied,
And with it came a long-forgot sense of pride:
I then thought my life was mine to decide.
Now I can see how life screwed me over,
It wasn’t help, it was a hostile takeover,
And I reach and reach, try to get close
To that girl who was beautiful, like a four-leaf clover,
But I’m afraid that the world has made me a pushover.
Yet, I can’t help but hope for what is leftover.
The Girls that Sits Alone
I remember that girl that used to sit alone
Every lunch and break she’d be sitting by herself reading a book,
Or sitting on the bench in the shade,
Sometimes she’d try to join in with the other kids,
But they’d all give her that glance she knew so well,
The one they’d give to each other, the look of disgust,
Her mum used to tell her she didn’t need them, that she had her books,
She had her friends,
No one else could see or hear them,
But she knew they were there.
That little girl always had a book and her little bag with her,
The book was her enchanted shield and the bag was filled with her magic potions,
She needed those potions in case she was poisoned by something she ate,
Or something cursed her to have no breath, she could take the antidote.
Like many other little girls, she imagined herself as a princess.
But for her there was no Prince Charming to break her curse.
I don’t tell people about that little girl, they wouldn’t understand
I don’t want them to
I was the girl who sat alone,
I am the girl who sits alone,
But this time it’s different,
This time it’s not the same as before,
This time I have people sitting beside me
But it feels off, like there’s a small box around me
No one else can see or hear it
But I know it’s there,
So please don’t forget that girl who sits alone
‘The Blame Game’
But what were you wearing?
Oh come on, it’s a fair question really.
Were you rude, or a prude, were you drunken and swearing?
What were you wearing?
You should have said something earlier, now you’re just causing trouble
He was barely fifteen, not even the faintest sight of stubble.
This could ruin his life, he may never find a wife.
This is all in your hands
He was barely a man.
What was I wearing?
Go on then, I’ll tell you sure,
A dress with a label that reads,
‘Girls: Aged 4’
Is this really your best?
Focus, you have a test!
Endless fears and worries
I’m trying to press
Press down deep
For only a smile and cheerful gleam to show of course
Nothing else is to be accepted
You can’t show a weak force
But If I did show a slight litttle frown
All faces, all eyes would be looking down
Don’t be upset, you’re such a moan
Sat in a crowded room yet feeling so alone
I am lucky.
I am loved
And I am happy, sometimes.
Sometimes I feel unlucky.
Sometimes I feel unloved
And sometimes, I feel unhappy.
Sometimes I laugh.
Sometimes I cry.
Sometimes, I am scared.
Sometimes, I am confident.
My life is filled with sometimes,
But you know sometimes is enough.
Highs and Lows
My friend’s say you’re using me
Maybe I like feeling useful
I love the moments when I think ‘could it be?’
And the ones where I know it’s futile
I just want something to feel
The highs and lows make me feel youthful
Its a teenage romcom you lend me your coat
Kiss me on the doorstep after walking me home
You get in a fight with my ex
My parents hate you, I think you’re the best
Its a historical drama with longing stares
Everyone has an opinion, oh everyone cares
We make a bad first impression
Over time it turns to affection
But in the end, my life’s not a movie
You’re just the star of my daydream
To be my love interest you’d have to be
Actually interested in loving me
Trapped in a system
That takes creativity
And casts it aside.