Some hearts are water:
they cannot be held.
They run over, spill out,
and you are left with wet hands.
Some hearts are deer:
they are skittish.
They must be loved gently,
and from a distance.
Some hearts are fire:
they warm you in the night.
But they will burn your fingertips
if you reach too far.
Some hearts are sand:
a million moments in one castle,
entirely vulnerable
to your changing tides.
Some hearts are stone:
You can hold them,
and they may warm,
but they are difficult to change.
Some hearts are wind:
you will feel them surround you,
but you will never hold them,
nor will they warm you.
My heart is softwood:
warm, and impressionable.
Your name is carved
alongside mine.
Wednesday, 11 September 2013
Wednesday, 4 September 2013
My Way
I want to scream out loud that I love you,
but loving you pushes you away.
So I hold my tongue,
and carry on,
and hope you'll look my way.
but loving you pushes you away.
So I hold my tongue,
and carry on,
and hope you'll look my way.
Wednesday, 28 August 2013
Heart Stops
Sometimes my heart breaks
for no reason other than
it doesn't know what else
to do with itself, it
spends so much time alone
with itself, it
drives itself crazy with
longing for something
that nobody wants to give it.
And sometimes my heart falls
to pieces and I just keep
handing out those pieces
to whoever makes eye contact,
like the religious zealot on
the corner handing out his magazine,
trying to save you,
and everyone drops their gaze
and nobody opens their hands
to save me.
Sometimes my heart stops.
for no reason other than
it doesn't know what else
to do with itself, it
spends so much time alone
with itself, it
drives itself crazy with
longing for something
that nobody wants to give it.
And sometimes my heart falls
to pieces and I just keep
handing out those pieces
to whoever makes eye contact,
like the religious zealot on
the corner handing out his magazine,
trying to save you,
and everyone drops their gaze
and nobody opens their hands
to save me.
Sometimes my heart stops.
Wednesday, 21 August 2013
Broken Glass
It's the quiet in the middle of the night
that ruins me every time.
It's the way you appear with no warning
that stabs me like so many knives.
It's the way I can't (won't) let go of you
that drags me deeper down.
It's the way you can't (don't) let yourself love me
that leaves me face down on the ground.
It's you,
in every way,
that has left me
here like this.
And you
don't get to turn away;
I want you to see,
this is your mess.
that ruins me every time.
It's the way you appear with no warning
that stabs me like so many knives.
It's the way I can't (won't) let go of you
that drags me deeper down.
It's the way you can't (don't) let yourself love me
that leaves me face down on the ground.
It's you,
in every way,
that has left me
here like this.
And you
don't get to turn away;
I want you to see,
this is your mess.
Wednesday, 14 August 2013
Halifax
Every square inch
of this fucking town
has a memory attached to it.
And they all lead back to you and you
don't even realize how deeply embedded
in my head you are.
In my heart, you are
picking away at the plaster
I used to piece it back together
last time it broke.
You shatter me.
of this fucking town
has a memory attached to it.
And they all lead back to you and you
don't even realize how deeply embedded
in my head you are.
In my heart, you are
picking away at the plaster
I used to piece it back together
last time it broke.
You shatter me.
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