When she folded into herself

You all looked away

When she unraveled

You all watched

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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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Some time ago
My skin turned wooden
My feet moulded into one
Foot
I slipped
And smudged the painted grid
On the marble floor
Another time I fell
And did not stop
I rolled right off the board
It was not a conscious decision
To spectate rather than participate
But it happened
As it does to many
Who give up on giving
When you undertake solely seeing
You relinquish being
But not feeli...

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When sun comes against all odds

And the colours of life just pop

Or when the rain falls

It falls and falls

And you wet your lips

With piping hot tea

With warm biscuit

Savour the crumbs

Cosy and safe

In the arms of a jumper

The padding of the sofa,

Like a huge hug

Or when your face aches,

Your stomach vibrates

Because you are fighting to breathe

Through ...

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My bed is still warm

When the next body rolls in

But I'm not

I'm numb

Until,

Your body

- Or his -

- Or hers -

Envelopes mine

And I can breathe

Because

I am consumed

I am part of you,

Of someone that lives

That moves

That loves

I am

I was

I will be

Because I'm not apart

Just a part

Of something

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"Find yourself"

You can misplace your mind

But

You can't forfeit your mind

When you've built a fort for your mind

Mine is bulletproof,

Double-glazed,

Soundproof,

In here

I can stay outside of myself

I can step outside of the world

Oops

Yesterday,

I watched us having a conversation

From my window panes

Through the heavy glaze

It made me feel some type...

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Speaking can feel like your swallowing

So, you may as well swallow instead

Or it’s giving,

Giving and giving

Fingers down your throat,

Retching

Searching for…

Will I be stronger tomorrow?

Or just hollow tomorrow?

So, you end up filling up on someone else’s dictionary

I am disarmed without my language

But my language is disarming

Words do break your bones

Voca...

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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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Do you remember how we used to savour the pins and needles on our tongues?

Do you remember how we used to bite into bitterness?

lick the spit of life

I was turned on by brokenness

maybe it’s cliche

that I craved pain

swallowing broken bottles

it's lined my pockets

it's swollen my stomach

Do you remember when we saw ‘sad’ as just another crayon

to colour ourselves in w...

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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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