you make me fucking sick

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

____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
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.


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 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.

i’m not normal

it’s Albany place and Tesco metro is around the corner
and tears are dripping down my face
and now my make up is ruined.

i’m not normal
my chest feels tight with the weight of every word
anyone ever says to me

and I trip half way down the street.
there’s a house on this road I want to move into.

i have been busy at home making a new face for myself.

i have been making it very pretty with nice highlighter
And a nice smile
And i have made sure this face hasn’t been eating too many pizzas.

this face goes to the gym and takes photos and has a laugh
this face is not fragile.
this face enjoys life.

midnight, Netflix in the background as my eyelids crash
there is a cobweb on the ceiling
it is a metaphor for all my friendships

there is only one star in this cloudless sky tonight
i cannot fully shut my window
and my mouth tastes like cigarettes.

i have been fumbling with my jeans on toilets
And trying to avoid dusk.
i have not been to any parties.

i am not normal.
i am a baby screaming at her rattle.
i am crying because I don’t know which sandwich I want.

mdma in the library

i guessed half as much the night wouldn’t come to this
we bombed the pcs up
i am like the way your heart stops when you download a virus
onto your laptop
and i am like the fear of losing your words
i am mdma in the library
and coke lining your kitchen sink
and i am fucking the sun with my mouth
and begging for a sip
have you ever burned yourself like this?
and you were fucking my mouth
and not knowing who you were supposed to be
you hung your body up on a coat hanger
and wired yourself to my limbs
said to yourself to be someone else’s for a few hours
it was holding the moon between my teeth
and holding my tongue as you hold my hand
there is a shift
i guessed half as much the night wouldn’t come to this
i am like the way your heart stops when you lose your wallet
and i am like swallowing too much seawater
and throwing up at the feet of your mother
somewhere in majorca
and wishing you’d had a better day
i am mdma in the library
and coke lining your kitchen sink
i am the evidence that would wash away 
that would dissipate
but like air, you never forget to heave in  
i am the drowning
and i am never sorry of how i can pull you under
it is because i never once reciprocated.

can u tell me where the train station is

it’s like five streets down,
heart full of worry, full of tomato juice
“it’s not my place to tell you when to fuck me”
and when we could’ve been together
i was on that train
and when we could’ve been together
u was on that white stuff

coked up
fuck up
drench aber in Jäger
drench fal in tequila
i tell em’ i’m on a million
takes a picture of me or somethin
jake’s on the wine like it’s heroin

man said that’s dirty
dad said he’s disappointed in me
i said i’m on a date this thurs
people not in my knickers
confessers, vicars, n dealers

i lived for it
and pal i lived FOR U
somehow made room for u in my tiny ribcage
brain’s makin me pay bedroom tax
for anyone renting out my chest
we ain’t working
this ain’t working

where u goin
takin doggy down roads
manchester’s like my older brother yanno
and syringes like this
they’re leaking piss
and i’m confused as to what i’m doing here
gives into the fear,

you said it’s clear
clear as mud
rehab is a must
what coulda
what shoulda
‘whatever’, says your mother
i told her

it was a waste of time
regardless she said she’d be fine
and she wired her way into the moon’s heart
its beating
take him for a severe kissing
they never knew i was probably on something

shit that’s never been heard before on at mono
tells him where to go and i know
that no one person has seen darkness like i have
to ur attention i grab
listening to this song makes me so sad
to the point of killing yourself on north pier
ur life is too dear

did you remember that mistake u made last summer?
try to remember.
ur face turns white
save it to your hard drive.
it’s like five streets down.
y’know, brain full of love
and the heart’s stuffed.

Lessons Learned #3

maybe someday you’ll be in standing in the zoo in the rain with him,
and the air just doesn’t quite fit inside your lungs,
or even taste right.

                             then you can’t breathe.
                             and you look in the mirror,
                             and his hand is always there, around your neck.
                                                                                                                                 – when you must let go

Lessons Learned #1

sometimes people will translate you
into weird
into arrogant
into aggressive

sometimes people will take you, singular,
and fish around you,
for faults

let them.

                                                                                                                                               – never react

Soulmate #3

N.B. told you Trampoline Park would feel stupid someday.

somewhere you’ll be doing your own thing,
and that’s cool. how’s your mama?

I didn’t fuck anybody else, months go by, whose dick do I suck next
my t-shirts are creased, and I’m not speaking to anybody.

how’d we get this way Soulmate #3?
you’re a ghost looking at me in the mirror, stood,

breathing on my neck
and our past feels like centuries and centuries ago.

sometimes I cut myself open and it’s like you were never really there,
not in my vessels, popping with loss.

all the beers you’ve been drinking, leaving me,
Miss Heartbroken at 5 AM with nothing but cereal to cry into,

empty KFC buckets and an unused gym membership,
look at all my money disappearing.

I used to look at your old love letters
and want to use them and your body for wood,

set you both alight.

but then I remember all the things you taught me,
like what it feels like to be loved, what losing does,

and how you may never regret where you place your dick next.
how you may never regret leaving.

sometimes I look at our old photos and I remember
how you were never there, towards the end.

and the irony that we’d switched places,
and that it was me throwing themselves from great heights.

i pulled you back from the edge,
you just kicked me,

and i wondered if it’s okay to drown in the moon’s stare
the paranoia that i felt as i glided from kiss to kiss

from male to male, from no one to everyone all at once
and y’see Soulmate #3 you expected me to go off the rails for you

but i died instead in the name of me,
and i guess Soulmate #3 that it feels weird in my veins

to know somehow you’re still a human and you’re somewhere in this world,
drinking, unidentified, and tired,

and i’m somewhere in this world, better off.