I almost forgot. For the briefest of seconds everything was okay. For that mouthwatering moment my life hadn't fallen apart and happiness didn't seem so far away. I stopped hating who I am and let myself get lost. I stopped worrying about who I'm becoming and let go of the anger.

I almost forgot. For a split second I no longer saw you with her. The earth stopped spinning, the noise drowned out and the shadows shrunk back. I wasn't haunted by despair for a fleeting moment and the relief washed over me.

Reminders come in a steady flow.  Constant. Jeering. Smug. Every syllable draws me further and further into a world where I am no longer in control and I'm not even sure if I care enough to try to reverse it. I'm fading at a rapid rate. Parts of me dripping slowly until all that will be left is a scar on the sunrise that defied my wishes.

14 / 01 / 15

All she did was look at me. Her eyes shimmered with white gold and an endless sky; stars flickered behind her pupil and I burst open. Every thought came spilling out of an ill practised mouth and my heart was beating to her rhythm.

All she did was look at me. The demons which I spent every night battling silenced in awe of her beauty and all there was left was her. Green burst like fireworks when she laughed and my heart jumped to my throat; always wanting more.

All she ever had to do was look at me and my body would erupt in anticipation. Butterflies, chills and a need to be as close as possible to her would dominate my being until I was powerless to resist.

All she could do was look at me. My world crumbled and the tears flooded between her eyelids threatening to destroy all that I knew to be true. My chest constricted as every emotion lay bare before her without defence. Unable to speak and left with my entire soul left gaping.

All she did was look at me and I was hers.

So this is goodbye.

The feelings which pour from me so effortlessly when you are around can be locked away into hiding once and for all. You, kid, will forever be a huge part of my life but it's now going to be two adventures instead of one. You taught me how to trust - how to put someone else before myself in every way. You fixed parts of me which I thought were beyond repair and made me feel almost whole again. For the briefest of times I felt like I was no longer alone.

I love you. Wholeheartedly and unconditionally. I always will to some degree. Youre the single most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on and l will never regret the incredible time we had together. Part of me will remain yours until the day I die and there is no one I would rather give it to.

I miss you. I miss how your skin smells as you fall asleep in my arms and how your neck tastes in the morning. I miss the beat of your heart in your throat and how you could ease my mind without even knowing what I was thinking. I miss how no matter where we were, my fingers could find comfort between yours and showing you off as my world.

You were my everything. You were the air that I breathe, my sun, moon and stars. You made the world a less scary place. More than that, you made my mind a less scary place. No amount of words will ever be able to truly express how grateful I am for that.

So, this is goodbye. Goodbye to what we were and what we could have been. Goodbye to stolen kisses and knowing looks. To tangled limbs and disappearing hours wrapped up in our own bliss. This is the saddest goodbye to a future under the stars.

This is also hello to you being my best friend. I will forever be here to help you back on your feet should you take a fall. I will forever have enough faith in you for the both of us. I will see your true beauty when you aren't able and love the parts you dislike the most. Whenever you need someone l will be right here waiting.

We have a challenge on our hands, beautiful. We both need to find our way home.

So this is goodbye.

Facing Demons.

-->

Perfection. One of those unachievable attributes he continuously sought after. Never, however, did he think he could find the peace of perfection here. The blindingly, bleak walls taunted his mistakes, yet the silent jeering was exactly what he wanted, needed. The strong stench of regret filled his nostrils, reminding him, that, he was still participating in whatever world he had existed in before this catastrophe struck. How had he allowed himself to reach this point again? Hadn't he been the one to swear he would never see this re-enactment? He succumbed to yet another wave of depression. Its force racked his body, his eyes filling with salty sadness, spilling over and streaking down his seemingly strong face. The weight of each tear drop weathering the bone, it's presence emasculating itself with every glide of moisture.

He lived a fairly normal lifestyle, his hardships were average and he knew he was lucky for many of the opportunities he had been given. His days passed as normal, yet whenever he was given even a few moments alone, his mind would torture him with daily nightmares. One he had seen many times before and tried so hard not to see again. Flashbacks of that day.

Her eyes filled with fear, her voice sounded so high pitched and terrified. He gripped her thin arm with his gruff hands, tossing her from his path. He could hear his own hysterical voice, raise. It's force tearing through her tired body, destroying her slowly. She deserved it. He had lost all control over his actions and he didn't care. How could she have caused him so much pain? He could feel his blood boil, its volatile strength ripping him apart. Every blow that fell upon her body was a plea for her to stop him, to calm him down. He needed for her to surround him, pull him close and cool him down, instead of causing him to be this enraged animal. He needed help and he knew it, she didn't deserve this.

He shook himself from the thoughts yet again. His stomach knotted as he reassured himself that he wouldn't be that person again. He was better than that. The person he was, is dead, it's corpse buried and soul living only in memories.

The day he had dreaded for so long was upon him. His avoidance was futile and he had been defeated by his own Jekyll and Hyde personality. He could hold nothing, say nothing and think nothing. His anger had struck him down once again, winding him. The strength of his own emotions pushing him to his knees against his will, his muscles tensed and a familiar, red, hot, hatred shot through his veins and washed over him. His limbs thrashed around violently, his victim being left bruised and mentally tortured. Raw, scarlet rage. He held himself rigidly, his chest pushing outwards. The pain in his back was so intense that he was stopped in his tracks momentarily. It was a self inflicted injury, one that would heal, but scar him still. Every grip he thought he possessed on his own actions was slipping firmly from his fingertips with every passing second, every swear word and every gnawing of his teeth. As he pushed against this virtual stranger, their personality strangled him further. He launched his closed fists so forcefully, it would be fair to assume he was enjoying it, instead of it being every aspect of life, which he feared, combined.

As he sat once again in his perpetual cell, nothing but his thoughts and regrets to pass the time, he felt compelled to scrutinise his every action. He felt physically sick at the thoughts of his behaviour. He had fought so hard to suppress that side of him, so much so, that it was exhausting just to think of it. He was defeated. Every tear that escaped him was so personal and so heartfelt that it pained him. Physical shocks of pain shot through his chest at the thought of the disappointment in his mother's eyes. He feared her disappointment more than anything else. He deserved all punishments, he knew this, but that, was unbearable. For every second he looked into her eyes, it was another second he lived in the realisation that he had broken his promise. He had thrown the effort back at her and allowed himself to be overpowered by that unwelcome darkness.

Every faith he held within himself was gone. He had lost all control and had reached the inevitable low point. He had hurt yet another person in anger, and had lost himself. The same self he had worked so hard for. The person he despised right now was himself. The same self he had sworn was gone. Gripping the back of his neck, he pulled his head to his bloodied chest and sobbed. He mourned the loss of who he wanted to be. He mourned for the days when there was so much hope and pride held in him. Those days when smiles weren't unfamiliar, and happiness wasn't a foreign quest.

Someone, Somewhere was reaching their supposed perfection. They were opening their eyes to something they had strived for and were satisfied in their situation. Their smile beamed sincerely and they were able to hold their heads high. He, on the other hand, had hit his low point. Again. He drowned in shame, and choked on the disappointment. His emotion was apparent with the curve of his spine and hanging of his head.

Never again. He promised himself, never again.

Gushes of Exhaustion

It is with an [eager] caution

that I lower myself into distraction

A tight lipped surge into home grown parodies

foreign treasures glinting in drenching moonlight

Silence so complex - unbreaking except for the barely audible lust

tiny whispers soothe fragile and lonely hearts

while salty rain quenches an accommodating thirst.

Drowned in exile, bathed in need.

Single tulips dance in a breeze not unnoticed;

its gushing compliments encouraging further ado.

It is with an [enchanted] bewilderment

that I allow myself to take flight into the wind

Scorching clouds my fingertips and

bellowing salutations to the elated leaves.

Tired feathers sprout excitedly from air dried skin

the scents of desired prey tickling their sensors.

Swooping nose dives; unnecessary danger.

Bringing the world to a halt in order to pluck a crystal dream

from the oil slickened sky.

Caves and shocks speckle the moon's surface

as it drowns in sunlight and clinking milk bottles

Magical yet familiar - a refreshing contradiction

and once again I soar emphatically blind

towards the visible orb

teasing layers of dust with experienced hands.

I fall hopelessly yet willingly into a restless sleep

A never ending quest for wants, satisfied

As the sun rises I descend ever deeper

into a night-sky that enthrals me with seductive kisses

and sparkling winks.

Call of A Sinner So Young

Ample flesh

t w i s t s

in a feast

for brilliantly blue eyes

Flames

s p i t

upwards

[Spawning]

winged children

and

r e l e a s i n g

them onto sooty

yet

purified concrete.

Impossible to catch

[almost]

fluttering gazes into a

b l a z i n g

heat.

Searching words unsaid

for something...

beautiful

to die for

something...

extraordinary

to breathe for

something...

absent

to exist for.

Treasure troves glint

in the eye of the flame;

Gold

s i m m e r i n g

in a well oiled greed.

Worn floors bleed experience

staining the soles

of innocent feet

with a discovery

so potent

yet so...

[Delicate]

Tear drops heralding

o b v i o u s

Heartbreak to a choir

of embers and coal.

Funeral March

Dainty red ribbon snakes around a brittle wrist

Light bouncing from the shining silk

Embedded scarlet drips from limp fingertips

as blue lips whisper sweet violence to deaf ears.

Transparent skin shivers against the touch of capes

Ideas running for cover from an unleashed villain;

exploring hidden caves of the imagination.

The leaves of lilies blow slowly in a growing breeze

A faint tap of soil hitting wood breaks a sobbing air .

Headless suits stand around a deepening hole in the ground

Blades of grass stabbing the soles of leather shoes.

Billowing cotton sheets dancing atop stone memories

Feathered wings grounded with the weight of a broken soul.

Drums bang as chains drag through puddles of insanity

A hoarse song erupts from the throat of the fellator;

Notes drained from his sorrowing eyes in a final lament.

Greased instruments squawk empty goodbyes at a lowering box

A hanging saviour stares down from a crucifix, wrists bound and bleeding;

Halos appearing above unassuming skulls.

A dainty red ribbon snakes around a brittle wrist

Greying skies close in and fingers twitch with new surges of blood.

Kidnapping Tigers.

Straining cogs,

slickened with salt-water,

screech in rotation

- a weathered pacemaker -

Oceans crack along jagged equators

rip tides finally tearing

man handled and split

Crumbling bricks

c a s c a d e into busy streets

collecting dust clouds

- in the grooves of all terrain tyres -

clogging the arteries of mainstream society

relaxed hyper tension c a r e s s e s atmospheric pylons

hungry bellies rumbling

with volcanic heartburn;

spewing conspiracy theories.

Pants, pressed with heart-warming precision,

lay undisturbed in wait for a passenger

of a flight grounded by a divine wind.

Gasoline fires penetrate unseen coral

while deserts are scorched by gunfire

and greed

greasy paws steal food,

from dark (well documented) mouths,

tossed and abandoned

in order to feed spoiled kittens

tribes hide among scratching posts

and growths of catnip

lightbulbs stealing their vision

blindly, calloused fingers pluck

soiled green notes

from silt and burning rubber

lining the pockets of Petty criminals.

fumes of waste melt,

well manicured holes,

into blue lawns and cotton balls.

Overfed corpses swing in twine collars

for crimes committed on a switchboard

cigarettes perch atop dried lips

blinfolds in the firing line of fiscal uncertainty and crisis.

Nuclear cuffs detain uncle sam

an army of immaculate suits gamble on unwritten odds

headlines creating nothing but warmth -

the ink staining the neglected skin

of one legged veterans;

blood diamonds giving them back the twinkle in their eye

persecutors poised

-while wealth is mined and destroyed -

waiting for a guilty jury

who have yet to return.

She asked for one final kiss. She asked for me to touch her how I used to; make her feel like she belonged. I tethered her to the earth, she said. I gave her a reason to inhale, she said. My hands shook, my mind went blank and I almost  forgot the reason we were standing there with tears in our eyes - almost. I almost leaned in to hold her. I almost destroyed the pain in her eyes. I almost forgot who I was.

She asked me to speak. She asked me to whisper the words I had recited so fluently to her.  Tell me the words to make it better, she said. I frowned, shaking my head. The words caught in my throat, my tongue coming so close to deceiving my mind. I nearly collapsed. My resolve nearly crumbled - Nearly. Those words were empty. Their meaning had been lost a long time ago and I was unable to recall them so easily.

She cried as I pulled away. She pleaded as I turned from her and walked away. She swore I would never forget her. She begged me to never forget her. She asked me to make promises she couldn't help but break.

Glory days are short lived, it seems. Happiness is a fleeting response to nothing and detaches you from the world around you. Tears fall and breakdowns triumph in the pursuit of ignorance. In that moment, we were nothing but strangers in passing; waiting to move on to other appointments. In that moment, one world crashed down and separated into two, split by a final kiss and a need to explore the universe.

Old friends

An old friend visited with me today
He brought me gifts
lured me in with warm promises
of an empty head and
only a temporary
ache of release.

He showed me my soul;
my place in the world
Running his tongue along my veins
seductively

He showed me my fears;
my nightmares and thoughts
cutting them slowly out with his
Confidence.

An old friend visited with me today
and brought with him the old me.
Threw me down with ease and
Carelessness

Reminding me of who really
controls me

he showed me my weaknesses
laying bear my dark demons;
calling to them with some
bloodshed

Then left me abruptly
in a pool of my heartache
praying for mercy to take me.

Mind vomit.

Slick
      Salty
             Drips

 Grinding against tiny hairs

Saturating a grimy film
               of less than neglected -
less than thought about-
                               skin.

Bold
      Watery
                Orbs

Gleaming with an expectation

Burning with desperation-
        with a need to be recognised by her -
                                 Eyes.

Twitching
            Nervous
                          Soft

Sliding in trepidation

against muscles which beg
           to be probed
                       to be brushed by her -
                                    Fingers.

Demons.

My demons tend to get me when I am at my weakest. They crawl out of the woodwork and they hound me until I am ready to give up altogether. It's like they are slowly tearing muscle from bone, tendons snapping under the pressure of their claws and bursting my blood vessels until my brain is incapable of being logical. I can't stand the thoughts that pour through me, so much that I lay paralysed; tears streaming down my face and praying for sleep.

I slowly turn inwards, forgetting everything that is around me until I end up pushing it all away in a pseudo retaliation. I forget that they can't feel the things I feel, they can't hear the things I hear and they can't see the things I see. I forget that they have no idea what is going on in my messed up mind and then I am left where I started myself off; alone.

I am entirely sure that I have destroyed things. I am entirely sure that I have built myself up to a crescendo of devastation that there is nowhere left to go from here and it bothers me to see the sadness that lives behind my eyes right now. I forget this can happen. I am so numb from everything 99% of the time, that I forget that the extremes of my mood still exist, that they are merely waiting to express themselves when I am too weak to fight them off.

I honestly am my own worst enemy.

No.

I always know when I have slipped into a depression when I can't listen into any music without feeling like every single lyric is beating me. It's like I can feel every emotion every person in the whole world has ever felt all at once - without being overly melodramatic.

I've said it before and I will continue saying it - I don't talk. I can't talk. To talk, is to own up to the fact that I am emotional fucking handicapped and am incapable of dealing with basic feelings. To talk is to pretend that I am able to be a grown up person and deal with things in a mature way.

No.

I sit, I stew and I fucking ponder, until I am sick to death of churning the bullshit around that I simply shake my head and move my thoughts somewhere else while the negativity claws and screams and leaves me drained. Work. Home. Work. Home. Churning and churning. Non.fucking.stop.

I can't help but slip into the usual patterns of behaviour. I can't help but feel sorry for myself when I well up at nonsensical and inconsequential songs. I can't help but miss times when I felt whole - like I wasn't a broken child, desperate for simple touches or reassurances.

Self pity doesn't always work, but when you have been denying it, it almost feels like a relief to admit to it. I need to keep myself in check before I fall into old habits and completely fall to pieces.

05/11/12

Syllables straining against a misogyny
so enthralled with minor details
that the flames struggle to lick
past the crease of the knee.

With individual droplets
rolling against the vinyl of a rainbow
and the silent wind ripples through
well maintained up-dos
and painstakingly ironed pant legs.

Sidelong glances
threatening a touch that never comes
into a submission of mania.
Heralding voices calling forth
a diversity of collecting trolls
and words which will never be spoken.

Jewelled rain
of salt and sadness
drips mercilessly into the abyss
of uncaring typhoons.

October.

A tumbler of smoked whiskey
Droplets bleeding down the glass
and clinking ice shatters the silence
dissecting the tension of absolution.

A smouldering cigarette hisses slowly to the butt
blue figures dancing against the backdrop of insanity
choking the silhouettes of darkness
and suffocating the seamless madness.

Justifying decisions with a sense of expectation
Allowing the tears to fall into the memories
Gurning while a shadow breathes against my neck
and strings of saliva drip against my skin.

Veins bubble in rage
Fear paralyses the soul
A twisting neck and screaming eyes
bruises that never quite fade.

Desperation seeks to destroy,
Devastation kills the joy
and yet, in a daylight doused in dreams.
Ice cubes bob and shatter the silence.

It's been almost a year.
Two short weeks and it'll have been a year. I feel no less broken, no less able to deal with the shit and yet.. "I've moved on."
I still find myself freaking out. I still cross the street when I feel threatened, I still wake up racked with nightmares and a fear which never seems to ease.

It's been almost a year and I still feel like the broken little girl I was turned into.

erkjfnrpeurf

Knifepoint.
Standing in a blank abyss knowing there is little or nothing that will stop the slicing turmoil from leaving gaping wounds in your psyche. Too scared to move, too wise to believe that I can stop the pain.No thrashing, no fighting, no words; it only makes it worse. Twitching fingers tightening a grip on a blade that I do not want to hold. An anger penetrating my mind so profusely that it leaves me wanting the burning sensation to embed deeper into my fingertips, to score my flesh with its icy flame and to make me its victim. To make me my own victim who means something.

Arson.
Caught in the middle of a swirling flame that I began. Falling rapidly into the embers of my own creation at  a break neck speed that is impossible to stop. Hugging my torso tightly to stop the flames from pouring out and protecting others from from the lick of my reality. Matches jump and spark in my hand, the flint calling to me to burn harder, to hit with more gusto and I collapse into a suspension of arguing minds.

Treason.
Being a prisoner between warring mindsets of control and ignorance. Not daring to let myself slip and yet allowing the pain to pour out on to anyone that is close enough to take it. Wanting to lock myself away and realising there is no way I can detach from everything that has kept me stable and someone who is something.


Crimes of my disease crawl up my throat and drown me in self made confusion at the smallest trigger. Throwing everything I once knew and once relied on into a swirling parody of repeating bullshit.

I've been here before. I know this path and how the land lays, and yet...

I am nothing.

Trapeze

A tent made of silk,
bright reds, blues and greens.
A rope fraying at the ends
fibres ripping and groaning.

Slow tiptoes and short glances;
One collective intake of breath.
A smooth sole dares to take the risk.

Icicles crawling and growing
sticking to the spaces in my spine.
A fiery rage gusting against my face
threatening to melt my skin.

Bracing,
Pushing,
Always always breathing.

Tears collect in the sand,
identifying the tremble
of a missing face in the crowd
and a lacklustre performance.

Stiff and unable to move,
slacking rope falls further
swinging to meet it's fate.

A smooth soul dares to take the fall.

Carving into my skin, every memory I have of you; each line representing something new to be heartbroken about losing. I can handle the pain, I can handle the sting of the tattoo, it's the new found sense of responsibility I have because of it. It's almost as if I have made a deal with you. I will no longer allow myself to fall as low as I did that year, if you are willing to help me. The weight of that promise is firmly resting on my shoulders and although I have every intention of keeping it, I can't help but feel the self doubt creep into my mind.

You were always so strong. Even on your death bed you made sure to hang on with us until Dermot came to take care of things. You fought so hard for so long, I am that much more proud to call you my Granda. I wish I could tell you these things; I wish I could thank you for helping me find my way in the world and for never judging me when I fucked up.

It's been almost a year and yet still, it feels as though my chest is tearing in two when I think of you. I miss you more and more - simple things. I miss pretending knowing what you were saying because you kept mumbling, or I miss the tv blasting loudly. I miss knowing that I always had somewhere I was welcome to be when I had nowhere else to go. I just miss you, and this, although you might think it is stupid and a waste of money, is my way of reminding myself that so long as I remember who I am, who you were, I will always find my way out of the shit life throws at me.

I will try my hardest to hold up my end of the deal, I just need you to do the same. I'm not sure I can do this alone.

She turned.

She turned. Too fluidly for it to be accidental and too robotic for it to have been planned, and yet she did it. She turned away. Her eyes drawing across dusty surfaces and forgotten ornaments in order to wash the disappointment from her pupil. It was slow; almost all too real, and yet still so distant and rehearsed. She wore a mask made of butterfly wings and broken harmonies upon a face once so vividly portrayed as a masterpiece. She hid behind the beauty of things she couldn’t possibly possess in order to remain truthful to her own mind and soul. She hid behind the broken atrocities of someone else’s life in order to remain the fortified mess of hormones she had grown to rely on.

Dragging dirt from beneath her fingernails, she tore herself in two. One dreaming of an existence where music played and passion erupted on the corners of dimly lit streets in the rain, the other resigning to the fact that streetlights shone too brightly and cameras buzzed too loudly for the moment to be sacred. Raindrops fell too similarly to tear drops. Corners had too much of a point. Fear held too much power over her; the shadows leering and spitting. Someone could get hurt and she learned a long time ago that that someone would be her.

Night falls, lingering mournfully on her paling skin; Moonshine casting a glow of empathy on her curved neck and rigid shoulders. Her eyes glossed with the turmoil of an aging veteran and the brightness of a million heart breaks. I cried. I couldn’t help but get lost in the words that she wasn’t willing to share with me. I couldn’t fight the pull of a million hands begging for me to break the chain that encroached on her ability to love. I moved towards her; uncertain footsteps bringing our bodies together. Skin to skin, we stood. Her gaze not lifting from a figure in the distance, her head turned in shame.

She turned. Broken and forgotten, every item was dragged out in her line of vision until it blurred. Tears refusing to fall -memories refusing to dissipate. I turned; so enveloped in her movement that, without realising, I began to mirror her actions. Smoothly, I wrapped my mind around hers, my arms too, while she stood in silence and allowed the danger of regret destroy what was left of her composure. Screaming in absolute silence, her body slowly shook – taking beatings from the words she left unsaid and the bone cracking violence of people she let slip away. I wrapped my body around hers, begging for attention, pleading to be allowed a chance to have captivating eyes fall on me. She barely noticed.

She sighed and she turned. Falling into an abyss where the overcrowded remnants of thought soaked up the energy she once had and disabled her ability to hope.