This Summer

i would like to say
you’d be walking by my side
but this summer
will not be like that
you’ll be over there
somewhere
while i’m right here
thinking about
what could have been
if only’s on my walls
if only
everything was different

Not Proud

I’m not proud of myself at all
I hate the very word
Proud?
Of what?

I’m nothing but a failure
And no… most of it’s not my choosing
Life has forced its grim face on me
Then laughed at what it created

Failure… is failure
And no
Not proud at all

 

Mystified

if you think you’re sad
on what scale is mine
to uncover the hidden pieces
of you
i don’t care to know

and sure as hell
if you really wanted me
you couldn’t bring
all of your darkness
to where i am
i wouldn’t let you

you are beautiful
at least
i saw that you were
so why hold on
to such emptiness
trash and darkness
and lose everything
for a mere child’s game

i’m mystified
more than horrified
and totally accustomed
to disappointment
i’ll go on as i always do
as i did before
i’ll sigh lightly on my way out
because that is the tale
and entirety of my life

i would never have asked
for change
i’m no ignorant female
and certainly nobody’s good girl

i gave up belief in man altering
long time ago

maybe goodbye
is all that remains
you choose
it’s your life
after all

So Damn Polite

i wish I hadn’t been so damn polite
i wish i’d aimed spit into my enemies eyes
stamped their toes till they bled
and twisted their mischievous arms

always too nice for my own good
always the one in the lonely corner
playground blues from year to year
and shaky knees with no cure

everyone loves an honest girl
even if it’s only to use her
i wished i’d been just a little more fake
and not worn my heart on so many sleeves

Tales

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i wanted it to be
the way it is
in stories

it turns out
the same… again
his eyes that way
my ears this way

differences dividing
right down our centre

i wanted it to be
new found love
the way it often begins
and ends
in books

my heart never learns
that kind of love
those guys

are only tales

Art

Assurance

High on the hills my lungs are full
air clear as spring water
not a single sound
but the hum of inner thoughts

It is time for the journey
to completely cast off
the weight of my acquaintances
to unearth the strayed self

To be a running girl on an island
the wind beneath her hair
an assurance of change
and wings strong enough for flight

Image

Medicate The Mind

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Maybe… I’ve changed my way
walking backwards
zoning out
maybe… i’m not
who you thought I was

What comes to mind
when you look at me
all ‘you’ve‘ ever hoped for
all you have ‘imagined

Unfold the telescope
gaze through the tunnel
until reality gifts a surprise
and there you may find
there are no stars

Honestly medicate the mind
don’t let ‘it‘ dictate to you
form a unique shape
and demand it never lie

Maybe… you like things I don’t
i fear we’ll never agree
maybe… it’s time
we woke from our sleeping

Art

Numb

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You can guarantee, i’ll be your friend
but don’t ask me, to be your lover
you talk with too much guise
can’t take you serious dear

Look what you’ve done
you have me discarding self
got me cooking up garbage
dressing up as old time movie stars
to play the needed part

You’re an intrigue, a cheeky rat
i’d love to love you, but i’m exhausted
entirely numb to all good things
and which one of you, did you want me to love

 

Her Shade

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I was blue yesterday
still blue today
tomorrow I’ll be neon
and still blue

I don’t change!!!

I speak the mind
say what is and what’s not
but you’re tuned
to another channel

Have I changed???

You wear fantasy like jewels
so impressive and entirely real
you fuck strangers on Tumblr
with dirty little phrases

Where’s the change???

I’m still blue
I’m flaunting me
my reality is not yours
and ‘that’ will never be okay

So what changed???

I’m a fierce girl
who loves her shade
and I’d laugh damn loud
if you tied me to a bed

Unlikely to change…

I’m not ugly
and neither are you
we’re just living in different colours
so excuse me
while I return to my blue world

Art

A Fine Wash Of Azure

skyart7777

I follow his pen
the strokes and lines
the flourish the angle
how he spells sincerity
so plain and honest
with a fine wash of azure
as life really is
and strange how nobody
wants to read it
only elegance dressed as truth
humanity’s harsh hours
are a measure too blue
and never as lovely as sky