Get set…

So, picture this –

battle of the human.




all at war.

Can’t they all win?

My mind,

someone called it

beautiful once

though he did also

call me a maniac.

It’s where my

OCD and

depression and

anxiety live.

They like to get together sometimes,

have an impromptu party.

Those are my bad days.

Now my heart –

that I can promise you

is about 87% good.

It beats too fast

and clutches too tight

but I’m speeding away

and following it anyway.

My heart is what I write from.

It’s honest

and anxious

and a little messy

but in all ways

is the best thing about me.

My person?

Half the time I don’t like her.

I hate this body

that I’m also learning to love.

I’m too quiet,

stuttering over the spoken.

I’m too nice,

not to be mistaken for as weak.

I’m small but strong.

I can read fast

and make metaphors

even on my darkest days.

I like tea and butterflies and you.

So, is it time?

Are all three ready to fight?

Who do we place bets on?


Hey you…

I don’t schedule my posts…

This is raw and now and butterflies,

lying with you is quiet,

it’s peaceful,

it’s –

you know for once

I’ve not overthought


This morning, I fell asleep with your arms around me.

It wasn’t for long,

I think you were already sleeping

but it mattered.

This matters.

I’m not good at explaining my words,

spoken or not,

but being with you

isn’t just fantastic

it’s comfortable,


daisy dukes and tea

and a seven hour first date…

We’re up to twenty-eight now.

This is moving fast

and sometimes I struggle to keep up

but don’t let go of my hand…

It’s worth more than just the one risk…




I walked to work today.

I smiled today.

Not much was forced today.

It’s day six of taking these tablets today.

That’s eighteen altogether, three a day today.

I spilled tea over my bed sheets today.

Before my shift even started today.

We went for drinks today.

You called me today.

My Dad today.

I didn’t have any panic attacks today.

I got through today.

I like today.

Though, sometimes I wish I had someone more to speak to today.

I am Awake today,

and I’m not sure how I feel about today.

I started writing again today.

My book today.

At least, it will last for today.

Today is Sunday.

It’s not yet over.

I get another next week.

That’s seven today’s away…

Today I am wearing yellow.

It’s a new shirt.

But at least I got dressed.

In a couple of hours,

I’m getting on a train.

Monthly visit,

and also a huge mental challenge

at the weekend.

This may be my last post for a while.

I need some time.

I’m losing control,

my smile,

and who I am.

I’m going to seek as much help as I can.

For now,

I like the moments in my day

where I smile for no reason.

Or find myself writing

when my voice can’t be found.

I like this new shirt,

and the dress I have for your party.

I’m trying not to be negative.

I’m trying to still be here.

I’m trying to be me.

It may be a long journey.

I hope I’m worth it.


Something To Come Back To…

Do you think sometimes

you run out of words.

There’s only so many times

you can say somebody hurt you.

Sure, there’s always that imprint.

Stamp upon the heart

but it’s still beating.

You are not lifeless.

You’re hurting,

but you’ve been here before.

You can survive this

and though they might not be,

I am so proud of us.

You broke me

but I found myself in the dust

and I’ll be dammned

if I don’t even try

to turn that shit into glitter.

Watch me…

Last night.

You messaged me on Tuesday…

though technically it was Wednesday morning

just after 1am.

You spelt my name wrong.

I thought I was numb talking to you.

You’re not like the last

but I guess

now it’s your turn.

We met up once,

a long time ago now,

we kissed

then like most things


in my life

you just seemed to stop talking to me.

Why was that?

You told me last night

how cute it must be

to still be a virgin.

How rare it must be.

I wasn’t sure how we got onto my virginity

or why others have an opinion

over something that is mine and mine alone.

It’s been almost a year

since we met up.

I’m not sure

why whenever we talk

it’s always after hours.

I no longer know how

you make me feel.

I don’t know if I like myself, I mean.

Because, you see, that girl,

who I was in August.

She’s been hurt since,

she’s been broken since,

she’s been promised fake things since.

Maybe she still is.

Point is, why should I

put my heart on the line


you can’t decided what you want.

You told me

how you’ve been sleeping around.

You think that makes me sad

because you hurt me

but it makes me sad

that you feel

the need to do these things.

Excuse me,

I’m a little rusty.

Never written about you before.

Let’s be real.

You’re one of two people I’ve kissed.

The other, well maybe

I’ll never be done writing about that.

I’m 5’4 ish,

I think

that’s a lot of hurt

for someone of my height.

How am I supposed to compete

with all these girls?

Is it because I said no?

Is that why you asked me out

and kept me up

till all hours this morning?

I can’t be the reason you want to change.

You have to want that all by yourself.

You were the first boy to call me sexy,

I was different with you.

You called me honest

which I always am with everything

-including, I hope

the way I write-.

You called me cute,

I get that a lot.

I don’t mind it.

You’ve struck something inside me,

but you’ve had all this time

to talk to me.

And now,

I’m good.


Maybe there’s potential elsewhere

though he probably thinks I’m a weirdo,

I like smiling again.

I like the potential

I’m seeing in myself.

I won’t speak too soon

but I like -maybe-

this girl.

Girl tired

after studying.

Girl broken

but ‘brave,’ strong.

Girl who may someday

be unfazed by people who hurt her.

You said that you thought of me often,

how sorry you were to have hurt me.

I told you it was okay.

I wasn’t lying.

You noticed me for a little while

-as most people seem to do-

then forgot about me

until you’re sleepy,

or alone

or turned on.

I’m not an object.

It was just kissing.

It meant a great deal to me.

Mostly past tense,

I don’t think you’re my future,

and I’m not yours.

It was nice for a while

August Girl says thank you.

Sorry you’ve ended up

as writing material.

I’m trying to learn new things

about myself.

I don’t think

you’re capable of waiting.

After a while

you might not even recognize me anymore.

I won’t be a stranger

but the smile takes a little more work than it used to.