you make me fucking sick

if i had not appeared
________in my torn tights
_____the mascara smudged like
Liquor
_____on your vest
you might’ve sealed the deal with a blowjob
_____________________________slurping between two pairs of lips.

instead
____you call my friend
________say it’s my rock bottom
___________say that i did too much acid
they said i would have my head
_______________In the toilet someday

now you can flush. now you can.

_________and your two party girls next door
__float to Kanye
_______you’d hoped for a threesome that night
_________________you said it was “heading that way”
_____________________but back to now. you said you prefer now.

am i a film?
dad called me a poem yesterday.

i just want you to know
______That you are the final baggy
________of quality mdma
_____________left on my windowsill
____you are the ripest orange
____________you’re the aching ripple
in this swimming pool.

_________i would’ve liked you
_to have had those two girls
_______the one with hot candy floss hair.
the other fair. willowy.
_____i met them on a bed some party back
________way back when
we just did drugs for fun

and they weren’t some serious love affair
___________________________that i could suckle on
__no you
_________You, my butter-love
________________________and you,
_____________________________my popcorn-kiss

Well you just make me feel fucking sick.

well you just
____________exist. in this 19 year old body.
you are a mutation in my ribs. hair loss in my mirrors. you are an accumulation Of all those comedowns
_______and i would sure love to be
____________________________________Loved. By You.

so had I not appeared
__________at your black door
___2 am, mugged, soaked, cold
_numbed from my own addiction
_________you would’ve had your three-way
______________i would’ve tied a noose to our relationship
__________Hung hope from the end of your cock.

 

i stole the opportunity
_______the tricky sweet that you’ve dreamed of for so long

are you a woody allen movie?

rack me up another line.

mam said maybe she is a poem to my
Dad yesterday.

 

and you
_________You
Well you just make me feel fucking sick.

_______________________________________Thinking you’re all. That.

Thinking You’re the apple _____________________________________Of my eye

___But we two,
__________We two are worms inside the same Fruit

We two,
_________We two are bad cuts of coke
_____And we two
_____________________________are addicts to the same difference.

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it’s your fault i’m this miserable

shame in my nail beds
that i’ve watched stars wretch under your fingernails
and watered the weeds in your stare.

your breathing
the the the ache of your sound
the etched into my womb

every morning after pill has a name.
i baptise them like babies
and i look at the bloody state

in my palms.
ooooooooooooh doctor will i ever consume.
you grip my hand

as once more i unfold.
another iron pill.
another month.

you used to be obsessed
with with with with my wire.
but now call me a summer lay.

dry my tears
i am lost over the way you were last active
11 minutes ago

tell me you’d fucking die for me
ttttttttttttttttttttttake your talons
aaaaaaaaaaaaaand latch onto me

your grease,
your fucking evil
BLEACHING ALL THAT’S GOOD OF ME.

I HAVE BEEN YOUR FOOL.
TOUCHED TWICE.
gggggggggggggggggod where do i go to settle this?

to make it fair?
divorce papers lick their lips
in my dreams.

i had a vision you’d told me
yyyyyyyyyyyyyyou were done with me
bbbbbbecause i had given you my sex.

and because i were some bitch
hanging over your kitchen counter
wired still. going mad.

crippled by the disappearing trick
ooooooooooooof my insides.
oh doctor will i ever consume.

you. you’re the reason i’m miserable.
you’re the reason for the black ink
grilling my underwear 6 days before i ovulate

yyyyyyyyyou. walk over to me as i sleep
the deadline of the new moon
wwwwwwrites another poem nobody sees.

no light, no light.
your fate’s design only leads to my heartache.
what laughable devastation am i

take your needle
aaaaaaaaaaaaaabort me

and tell me it’s my fault you’re this miserable.

eating granola alone

each time u touch me
my body becomes a veil of smoke
because i cannot run after the jagged in ur ease.

tonight i may freeze in a pile.
i long to hate u and find a way to turn ur bones to gravel in my arms.

i sit here
eating granola alone
thinking of the way u cut me with kisses

and the way u grind the knife between my lips.
i was butter once.

i was soft and made to melt
in the palms of a wet god
and inside my steam was made for love.

the crumbs of me
are wasted on ur invalid
that i were a text message away from paradise

and a phone call away from normal.
u tell everyone we’re not trying
but all my efforts bleed back into ur eyes.

u tell me i’m the kind of beauty
that would make the sun fall into the water
and the rest of night would turn pink in my gaze.

and i don’t want to miss u
sat here, eating my granola alone
but all i can be, is, alone.

my fashion is ur winter.
i hope u wear it.
and i hope that u will lose ur purpose

when u lose me.

i long for your coming disappearing

i looked at you through a wall;

misery, cold flame

upstairs we fuck loudly – your neighbour probably hears
i’ve had enough of confusion; this baptism of blasphemy

so i read temptation in the wilderness

the devil fingers me rotten

heavy; this joint puts me to sleep
outside a bar you wrestle with my untouching

i wish i were on drugs

i only microdose the moon now

you come back at 3, we fuck again loudly
incense steam

you struggle against my wake

i want you 10,000 miles away from me

inside the fibres of my chest
in the colours of my wallpapers
you be my dyes; i will be your lacquer;

oh please

fuck off
fuck off
fuck off

no hard feelings

your mother listened // to me giving you oral once.
she was hurt // she cravshe was hurt // she craved
she was hurt // she cravburnt the line // sandalwood on her tongue
all the cum // eroded my gullet

she was hurt // she cravedthen we broke up // she was happy
and your sister said // she’d always hated me
she was hurt // she crawe lay in bed watching scary movie // i never cry
you missed me in spain // i lied

she was hurt // she crai have been known // to turn oranges inside out
she was hurt // she cravedstick strawberry seeds // to lungs
she was hurt // she cravedshe was hurt i love abroad // you love home
she was hurt // she cravedshe was hurt i love giving // you love taking

she was hurt // she cravedshe was hurt // she cravedshe was hurt // she i hate taking // but
you bent my metal smile backwards // anyway, no hard feelings.

a blue eyed boy

afraid, i held his hand.
i have tried to unpick you;
my throat of wax, kiss build-up.

a wasp sting on my neck
i have lost count of all your orgasms
pooling into my palms,

in every orifice of my weathered carcass,
the choir bleeds from the church.
my ex calls me “chou-belle” on the phone

as a blue eyed boy laughs in the background
i fall in love with his tundra
afraid, i held his hand.

you fleeting wretch of joy.
you can of worms.
why?

and why not?
nothing stains your gums
every time you raise your lips to me

except there is a burn.
i wet my insides for your detest
i want you to come inside me.

afraid, i held his hand.
i dried the surfaces, needed no one,
screamed rain as he stared at me.

a blue eyed boy
beat me to death with happy
until unafraid, he held my hand.

i keep colouring us grey

–  you’re the last petal on this daisy.

don’t know the truth hanging on your lip
just keep colouring us grey.

in the bar i punch you
in the bed i hum you

to shake off the guy in my hair
to be a fragile girl sucking her heart like a dummy.

tomorrow you’re reading a book
i’ll not really notice

but see you smoking outside
i’ll die in my own arms

broken bits of stars in my eyes
you’d smile that smile you give

in awe
in pensive mood

just keep colouring us grey.
can’t shade us cerulean over beer sex and feminism

can’t give you violet with fat joints and doorstep kisses
can’t stream emerald on our carcasses

we’re boys night out and your blonde hairs on my fur coat
we’re pool tables and the smell of your apartment on my jeans

your grey
my arch

vomiting rain day by day
your eyes stained of cloud

no i couldn’t cry at all
yes i could burn away tomorrow

–  i’m the last daisy in this field.

and you love me not as i love you
and you love me as i love you not.

and from time to time, you will think of me

i remember that look. the smile that carved out gold from my tears.
the twitch and fold of our limbs.

i was always too cold.
you were always too warm.

lie naked
undrugged, sober, a box of maltesers rattling at our feet.

no one kisses me like you do.
no one cools me like you do.

a piece of sky slithers down my back
somewhere, that same piece of sky has drifted over you.

and we are breathing the same air.
and sometimes our hearts are falling to the same beat.

and from time to time, you will think of me
as that creature of hungry love.

my tongue is shattered, it cannot talk.
my sad eyes tilting the shade of you.

i remember that look. the stare that bent the moon in half.
and our bed, haven ground for hard breathing.

i was always too cold.
you were always too warm.

and from time to time, you will think of me.

and from time to time, i will think of you.

the big comedown

used to listen to youth a long time back.
fourteen. balling the moon up in my fists.
a pub closes down
my guts are uncertain. boiling.
i am ready to lose my virginity.

feel tired in his arms.
carry me to bed. seventeen.
heart a little more alive
rosebud at the edge of noon.
it might be a dandelion. who knows?

blowing away my scars.
i used to drag the point of a compass
across my stomach
just to fill the silence in my bedroom
as i toss pills back.

he asks what kind of pills
and my salty fingers fish up some rennie.
and a half eaten box of sushi.
a daughter licking out the wax of a candle.
i chewed grass my dog pissed on.

and didn’t know.
the ground is deaf to my footsteps.
water fails to touch me.
a raindrop on my sore back.
a porn video left by my best friend’s dad.

blot clots stuck around my nose.
nineteen. hollow pit
and shakes in the shower.
Elvis gets his groove on
as i try to find my last period.

hair loss. my mother sweeps the ocean off my face.
sweat harassing me.
i find my debit card and chop.
the airport never notices my sullenness.
i groan.

my body clears the cuts.
i am unspeakable.

rock bottom.

maybe i was born blind and i can’t see a bad idea in front of me
with the night leaving teeth marks in my skin
i could be married by now
with 2 muddy children and a dog that chews my shoes.

but i’m not
and i’m on my third breakdown of the week
dragging my bloodshot body to outside your window
one light on, faint smell of incense.

you could have leaned against my palms
and fallen into the nets of them
i’ve spent my moons cradling questions to my chest
eyes of honey in my head.

most of the time when we’re together
you play me suzanne as i skulk the far corner, always by the radiator
temporary home for me and my blues
my paper cheeks stained purple with tears.

most of the time when we’re together
we’re considering bhagavad gita and ginger beer
shrooms and trying not to love each other
whilst puffing away our scars to the air.

i do not know what kind of homicidal maze you are
i do not think i ever wish to know
but i think it funny that whenever i cry past midnight
i think of leonard cohen.