Saturday, 26 April 2014

"Write a poem about me", you said.

"Write a poem about me", you said.
It's 5:27am and I have never been happier
I think that's because of you.

19 // 19

You're fickle. 
When we sleep, you stretch onto my side of the bed.
Your Instagram does nothing but annoy me.
Your music taste changes on a daily basis, I can never keep up.
I do not need fixing.
We get into trouble when we're together. 
I can't rely on you for emotional stability. 
We covered up whatever it was we were hiding with alcohol, drugs and bad jokes.
You're emotionally manipulative. 
I call you when I'm lonely.
Your driving leaves me terrified.
You're better at a lot of things than I am and I don't like competition.
I don't like competition.
You are a threat to everything I once stood for.
We could never be 'normal', everything is a show.
My eyes never had your full attention.
You're looking for a love that doesn't fail, like your parents did.
There is always going to be somebody better, for both of us.
We never understood each other's families.

We take our tea the same way. 
And eat the same biscuits.
You are the song I put on 'repeat' at 8:43am.
You're the start, the middle and the end of a dream I don't want to wake up from.
Every single one of my secrets, you know, and yet you still want to kiss me.
Texts saying "I love you" sent at exactly the right time.
Laying next to you was just like the Snow Patrol song.
You never once doubted my dreams.
Our sleeping pattern was so in sync.
I learnt so much from your silence.
It took me nine minutes to get to your house and 13 minutes to get into your bed.
You are the easiest person to be around. 
We are the only people who think each other's tattoos are works of art.
I dropped every single one of my bad habits and picked up you, instead.
You never once asked me to explain myself.
I never considered myself a failure because I always succeeded in your eyes. 
We found comfort in each other's flaws.
Time was never an issue: you loved me from 4am to 3:59am. 
You loved me.


Saturday, 19 April 2014


how do you write something about someone who isn't trying to fuck you up? 
i'm still learning - like i always will be - about how to do things right. how to write. 
and it's only when i'm sat in a reggae club at 1:45am, with strange substances swirling around my body,
that i can be honest. truly honest. mainly about how i'm so scared i'm going to mess things up.

because good, healthy relationships are something i've never had.
not really.
so as i'm learning to do things right, properly,
just bear with me.

i promise the weird freak outs and my ability to only be nice when i'm drunk will all be worth something soon. when your name is written in big letters on the first page of my book, under the word 'dedications', which will be written in bold italics (calibri), that's my way of saying "thank you for the being the only person who has ever bought me a birthday balloon."