24 Valentines Alone

At 18I didn’t feel the click of the counterCounting the years I had spentValentines aloneLike the other girls could I couldn’t hear the metallic click of failure I didn’t see the appeal ofA dollar rose from TescoA night out at the local NandosOr Pandora ringsFrom someone who would leave me next week Why show someone

Letting Go

I once sat on a bench,In a watermeadow,At the end of summer,Under a burnt orange sunset,With crimson poppies beginning to turn. I could tell thatMy childhood dog,Who I had brought there since she was small,Since I was small,Didn’t remember it now.Her honey-coloured eyes were glazed over,She was half the weight she used to be,But she

When

TW-Images of death and suicide When did you think the pain would set inFor me? Apparently, Not whenYou told me you didn’t know what you wantedAfter you persuaded me to sleep with you.I couldn’t breath Not whenYou let the ice of your doubtGive me frostbiteWhile your mind leisured in a warm summers day.The glowing romanticism

Forbidden Treasure

He could have scratched his itchWith one of the many women in this worldWho justifiably enjoy casual sex.Instead, he thought it would be more funTo see if he could breakThe heart of a demisexual. Now, I am at the centre of his debate;Of whether he loved meOr merely lusted over my body.I regret that I

Breathing Memories

Now you’re gone,People keep on telling meThere are many more fish in the sea!You deserve a man who treats you right!He is sat out there somewhere,Waiting for you,Go find him! Have fun! I appreciate the thought butNo thank you. For now,I want to sit on the benchOutside the train stationWhere I first held youAnd sit

Pinch Me PTSD

I learned never to leave the trodden pathBy walking into a wasp nest.For the 150 wasps that attacked me,Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt that much.Each sting didn’t hurt more than a pinch.But I suppose trauma sometimes doesn’t careAbout how much it hurt in the first place.When you re-live the helpless fear of running through a forestLike

Shameful Valentine

He published a love poem on Valentine’s DayTo his One,The Creator of the Universe.He wrote about lust and darknessAnd I knewMy body was burned on his brainWhen he wrote it. It wasn’t a shock.In the cracks of his voice, I could tellI was his dirty secret.Never staying the night,Stealing an hour here or there with

The Unwilling Ghost of Your Ex-Lover

I do not linger in your room at 4 am on purpose.I wish you could sleep through the nightWithout the lamp of my eyesPiercing through your mind.I wish you could sleep in your bedWithout tingles along your spine. But my ghost can’t leave. When we fell in love, our souls recognized each otherLike a squirrel

What are you thinking?

You present me with perfection.You tell me all the things I want to hear.Never an angry word or sharp jab. Just whitened teeth andBotox smiles. They hide that you’re no longer breathing.I hold youBut you are limp in my armsStill fucking smilingBut eyes no longer staring into mine. Synthetic beauty is deadlier than hemlock. Who

Are You Lying To Me?

They used to say to me,‘For the smartest girl in our yearYou really are the dumbest bitch of them all.’They would say I’m too easyBut not in that way.They knew they could lie to meAnd I wouldn’t be able to see itBecause a brick wall laid between my shinning eyesAnd their second face. A bank