Is there something to explain?

Is there someone left to blame?

Do you know why you are here?

Would you rather disappear?

As there's so many young people out there

Looking for the same thing

And there's so many young people out there

Trying to play the blame game

So listen up young people

Tell me what it is inside

Trying to cut away your heart strings

and ...

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I can hear it

the bending wire
of the armistice: 
twisted and tined 
plucked high and fine
and bitten
for a taste of fast and cheap iron

a prickling thrill provokes 
like a high water line
makes me wonder
what chokes 
and what it takes
to be full
to be whole 

instead, 
the best I can do is a side of myself
and a garnish of mint 
(for color)
even while raked raw
naked,  id ...

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carve the cloth off my skin,

wipe the polish off my nails,

scrape the itch off my flesh;

i can’t help it,

i won’t stand it again.

strawberry dressing on vanilla ice cream;

paint spilled over the notebook’s page

i feel the ink in my fingerprints,

it’s staining my hands.

i don’t know that i’ll ever get it out again

rip the skin off my bones,

pry my nails of...

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CUTS

When I think of her I think of scars.

She told me when she touches them they remind her of the cuts;

of how the cuts made her feel,

“it’s a purge”, she said, “a sense of being real".

She spoke to me with honesty of the incremental cost

of destroying the things she held so dear

now irretrievably lost.

Of how, through her inner turmoil,

she could meet the gi...

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The first time

Is a pin prick

To unstitch

Your skin

To feel yourself

Begin

You search your being

You are it:

Coursing through yourself

The second time

You search inside

A stranger

Behind the corner shop

You find where he begins

Adrenaline!

But come back,

Stinking of rot

Void of thought

To feel what?

What are you searching for?

To begin ag...

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A poem for my big sister about our grandparents ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time there were two sisters

One dark

One fair...

You

And me

And we shared

Sweets

Dreams

A bed

A room

A home

A family

An abuse

A neglect

A secret

A history

And yet here we are

So very different.

We shared so much

And yet so very little

You were

A coconut ...

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She spun and spun
And weaved a web
So intricate
So delicate
And at once impenetrable.

No one could see
The pedalling feet beneath
The turning of the many cogs
The machine whirring and wearing away inside of her.

Her past an ever present.
Her future already decided.
Fate was never to be on her side.
They'd seen to that.

They stole her innocence
Her joy
Her pride.

Bitter was ...

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Seeing the beautiful sky,

From my dead eyes.

Wondering the beauty in the holy night,

Dark was the only colour which helps me to hide.

Hiding my sadness my sorrows my fear my cries,

Trying my best to keep the face with smile.

My hobbies,my joy, my emotions were becoming day by day a bit fewer,

Now I am just existing in the world, can't even face myself in the mirror.

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We shared
Sweets
Dreams
A bed
A room
A home
A family
An abuse
A neglect
A secret
A history
And yet here we are
So very fucking different
We shared so very much
And yet so very little
You were
A coconut cake girl
To my burnt gingerbread
An exotic orange
To my plain apple
A wanted girl
To my nuisance
A beautiful girl
To my awkwardness
A favourite
Of aunts and teachers and co...

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Dark outside,

you see inside.

I’m standing there,

without a care,

but looking out,

i’m full of doubts.

I’m projecting pride,

but have nearly died.

He makes my tea,

you see he loves me.

I appear to have done

nothing for it.

My inner voice,

gives me no choice,

where you can’t see,

I slice my extremity,

the blood runs down,

into the family’s dishes.

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My scars have piled up like leaves on Autumn grass.

My knees are a testament to lake pollution

and MRSA.

My hands tell the story of a rambuncious youth

yearning for adventure.

My thighs are a roadmap of mental illness

and a fondness for razor blades.

My face bears the craters from a begone allergy

My mouth is the magnum opus of a poorly trained dog,

whom I miss everyday.

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I’m not a pyromaniac, but my emotions are like a fire.
Not dealing with past trauma because I don’t have what that would require.
So when I find myself alone and fighting the darkness in my head,
I end up saying so many things I wish were never said.

And as I look around at all the bridges that I’ve burned,
I know that by now, I really should have learned.
And as the smoke clears and my la...

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Her skin can open up like a mouth

It can speak

When it parts

It can extend like a tongue

It can taste

Your arteries are seams

Try to unpeel them

Slip off your flesh

Undress

Search your pores

For secret trap doors

Let the inside out

Part it like a mouth

Like hers

It can speak

Unfold the red carpets

Of rolled and folded tongue

Let it searc...

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Unwanted emotions tumble and groan crashing through my mind unwelcome

As I sit forlorn, an empty shell of my previous beautiful  self

What was once a blessing is now a curse

Something that hurts with an unreversible pain

As I'm fading, giving in to the dark night

A voice, soft and steady breaks the silence

A flutter flows through my stomach and my heart beats almost to the point ...

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Loving you hurts

There are mornings I wake up, wondering if you survived the night

Hoping and praying that you didn't hurt yourself

Knowing that you probably

I worry I don't do enough

That I don't tell how much you mean to me enough

Waking up crying because I dreamt you had died

And it felt so real

If I could do anything to make stop your pain I would

But I'm p...

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Have you noticed how I’m chewing gum again?

How apples have become my favourite food again?

That I can’t sit down because of the bruises again?

How I replace meals with jogging or writing or playing again?

Have you noticed that I’m drinking coffee again?

Have you noticed me?

I want someone to notice me.

Will you notice me again?

The water is starting to hurt again.

I don...

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Her soul, once whole,

Hollow like a cave,

Inching towards the grave.

Empty like the lies,

Told by her eyes.

They ask, "why all the pain? Are you insane?"

All my efforts in vain.

The simple key that will last a mile,

A fake and empty smile,

Trasparent, they say, elusive as ever

Telling her to live forever, never say never,

But her feelings, now here's a tw...

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Her soul, once whole,

Hollow like a cave,

Inching towards the grave.

Empty like the lies,

Told by her eyes.

They ask, "why all the pain? Are you insane?"

All my efforts in vain.

The simple key that will last a mile,

A fake and empty smile,

Trasparent, they say, elusive as ever

Telling her to live forever, never say never,

But her feelings, now here's a tw...

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25/10/11

So unpredictable.

So sharp and so cunning

Is the pain that run through me,

Hideous yet so stunning.

I want to keep it here, 

I want to feel it's cold aching

Blood spilling from me

My heart is still breaking

What if I want it to stop?

Please, leave me alone!

It'll be there. Waiting.

For me to decay down to bones. 

Maybe that's what I wa...

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(spoken wordy angsty teenagery type poem; a work in progress)

I just need a friend
someone to turn to,
but what's the point in a friend if that friend isn't you?
Yiu see, i've got my demons
but you've got yours too.

You've got problems with the scale and you hair smells stale from all the cigarettes you smoke to curb the cravings
anf your stomach growls, begs, pleads.
But no amount of ...

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Fetch the scissors
Bring the knife too
I've found something 
for me to do

Watch the blood drip
Make a red puddle
They all seem to judge
Without knowing the struggle

If they can all hurt me
I can hurt me too
I feel like I deserve it anyway,
That's why I do what I do

"Attention seeker"
That's what they label me
But they don't know
What I have to see

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Queen of the jungle,

                    this sprawling metropolis.

Feline and lithe,

                    She sprang in to life.

Prowling her domain,

                    feeling nothing but pain. 

But this tiger was tough,

                    used to the loneliness.

This patch was ruff,

                     devoid of rosiness,

filled to the brim with thorns,

      ...

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10

Shaky fingesr slide over my 

9

New wounds and my 

8

Scars of hatred, with 

7

Pills. I long my

6

Horrible hours of

5

Screaming death wishes and

4

Shots to my head would make

3

Tears fall down from my

2

Eyes, hurting me still!

1

More day and I would of been swept away. 

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I grip the blade,

I can't cut,

I handle the rope,

Unable to tie the knot.

I had a bottle of pills;

Poured them down the drain,

I lost the suns warmth,;

Waited in the rain.

A thought of your essence,

I swiftly hold back,

Every weappn of mine,

As the force slowly lacks.

Letting my sadness roam,

But not a thought roamed,

'Cause you're fighting,

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Laying against the darkest wall,

Memories clogged in contorted shock,

Losing consiousness to everything in all,

Its brightest moments dashing up the clock.

The stars dissolve as the sky swiftly falls,

Balled unto the shredded grass,

A lightened match, then a blow to the flames jaw,

Water sunk in the jeans of my last.

Cladded grief material upon my wrist,

Marks ...

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(I've been struggling to show anyone this poem for a long time but I've been inspired to let it free. These feelings are behind me now and it turns out writing was to thank for that afterall)

How does someone stop cutting?
Do they cut into the paper instead?
Replace flesh and blood with diaries and ink,
Replace physicality with mentality,
Replace actions with words,

It isn’t enough.

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Caring not one jot
For anyone else.
Me, me, me, me
I, I, I, I, I.
No substance
Except abuse.
No excuse
Get on with it.

M u u u meee
Pushing buttons.
Give me your attention
Or I will cut.
Get on with it
The answer.
Dispicable tart
Knicker elastic worn.

I can break you up
I will cut.
Get on with it
Wedge I will drive.
Your stealing my
Attention.
M u u u meee
I will cut.

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In Pyjamas creased like discarded paper

Shuffling aimlessly on flaccid feet

Come the fresh patients to the Psychiatry machine

Eyes stare into space in obscure realms of fantasy

With word salad chatter so wayward and bewildered

For morning medication they agitatedly wait

Chlorpromazine drugged psychotics limbs tremoring like jelly

Heads full of voices torturous ...

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