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.

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.

crying in the elevator

mike why’d you have to go n do this to me?
15 minutes into my life and i was staring my mother out

but she won.

and it’s not like it’s some kind of competition but
the capacity to make a man’s eyes water
as he holds his hooch from across the bar

is absolutely delicious.

mike i’m crying in the elevator
with a pizza crust sat like a sad smile
in the bottom of my stomach.

mike i told you
humans are the biggest oxymoron in existence
which makes us amazing

but such a pain in the arse.

i don’t like winning anymore
and so men who settle the score with me
i adore,

cos my heart was decapitated from a head of kisses
that many fucks ago an ex gave me
and he told me, he told me,

you’re amazing, lymh

and he calls me baby and hands me cake like dummies
for i am sickly
and cannot quite manage hangovers as i could 3 weeks ago

i drink to remember what it felt like kissing jäger off his dirty t-shirt
and i drink to remember what a lovely curse i’ve been given
that sucking cocks just isn’t fun anymore

and that i hate the sound of my own voice in seminars

15 minutes into my life mike

my ex was holding my hair behind my neck
wet from the rain
saying

marry me, you shit

what kind of a man drinks hooch
and what kind of a man proposes after a 2am argument as i vomit,
howling tears to the moon?

i dunno mike.

but i’m still crying in this elevator cos of you.

i think about you everyday

i think about you everyday
i think about you when the sun’s on my face
and my friends are laughing about something i said when i was drunk
and i think about you when mura masa’s on radio 1
i think about you when i’m head banging in sankeys
i think about you with my 3 am subway
i think about you when i’m crossing the road
look at my swollen body
it has loved you on sunday afternoons when the sun burns my forehead
and it has loved you on sunday afternoons when the rain soaks me to my veins
i think about you everyday
i think about the raise of you
and the pull,  the pull of you
and the push the push of you
the strings on my date’s guitar
i tiptoe in his bathroom and see you stood behind me in the mirror
i feel your breath on my neck when i sleep
your air has never changed
all of you was a tornado
i am not the same,
and i think about you everyday.

don’t you know my love

my love

i have peeled words for centuries
fetched fistfuls of bruises looking for you

my love
my blood crawls across my lips in relief now
don’t you know i have smeared strawberry hearts across my knees in pain

i have been thrown over
and thrown out
i have stitched the sun into my eyes
and been blinded

my love

you have been gone all my life
you have been here all my life
and my love

god gave me every hand of every human in the world
and in them, i have searched the lines of every palm for you
i have searched every wrinkle of the fire
i have searched all the twitches of the soil
and i have searched through the smiles of empty air
for your noise

my love
don’t you know that you are the blow that hunted me out of the universe
and my love

i have dried out every raindrop on my tongue
i have squeezed sunset after sunset like juice into skyscraper glasses
i have screamed at the moon
i have wet the entirety of night with my tears
i have cried feathers of myself
i have plucked hairs out of the ocean
i have made nebulae underneath my fingernails
don’t you know i have killed myself wearing wounds inside out

but i have found you forever.

fucking waste of time

you think that all the language in the world
will unhinge the fact that you might just be
grade 0, rock bottom,

pretending,
imposing,
or maybe just even plain bored of all of us

because in the fields of whys and wherefores
you could never really make definitions
around a shapeless concept like me

and you could never really speak about how
your chest thumps like the sun
when you see her in the streets

and throws up like the moon
when you see me
lying on your pillow.

you think that all the language in the world
will unhinge the fact that when i dropped
you couldn’t pick me up

you held me and made me colder than your grandfather’s last breath
whatever was funny back then
never mattered now

whenever we hung out
you were the syllable that got stuck in my throat
and i just couldn’t cough you out

because you,
you, male, ventriloquist of the kiss
could never see

i was, am, always,
a thousand times worth more
than one beat of your heart.

i needed a break from all of that, y’see

your eyes confuse me because often,
you look angry.

i’ve always misinterpreted our 2am conversations, you give your miracles
but you’re no prophet, not to me.

i sit on your carpet,
you fall asleep in a hurting sun.

i am forever leaving at 6 am.
you, you’ve tied 3 am around your tongue,

and i,
well i needed a break from all of that, y’see

staring into you
whilst you analyse my little head

for all my flaws and mistakes,
they shed and peel, but i am probably the ghost that stands under your archway at night

i kick the leaves outside my home in manchester
i have been thinking about you

i don’t think this is going to work,

do you?

watching my mother sleep

mother your eyes are open books from all the lessons you have endured
                                                                                                   and perhaps enjoyed.
some days you will fingerprint this world with derision.
                                i now, 19 years, am sort of whole.
i unfold myself, see my lengths and my curves
and wonder how you grew me.
                   soft and new, our bodies concentric circles.
                                                   you dream of weird things.
i never know which bouquet to buy you.
i never know which colour you truly are.
                     your eyes talk of the day you have had and so you go to sleep.
i hear your pulse when you tuck me under your shoulder.
i smell your heart heaving when i cry.
my tears absolve; you wash me down with words
                            and change me as though i were two again.
me and my flesh muddy from all the same lessons you have endured,
                                                                                                    and perhaps enjoyed.