Over

We are over.
I turn the word over in my mouth
Like a sweet too hard and too sour to swallow.
Over.

I tell them it was mutual,
That we broke up over irreconcilable differences:
I loved you
And you didn’t love me.
It was the only difference that mattered.

We meet again
For closure and to talk things over
And it feels anything but over.

Because when you kiss me in the dark
Over and over
I cannot picture being in anyone else’s arms.

And when I roll over in the morning
My heart skips a beat

And then you say my name
And I am falling in love again

Over
And over
And over.

Writing about the Writer

I write about others so often
It is time I wrote about myself

I was born in winter
But I am warm
My soul was forged in flames
I am mostly neutral
But prone to passion
Beware of my fiery temper.

I loved to swim
But longed to fly
And escape the life that didn’t fit me
I envy the birds
Who can so easily leave
Beware of my flightiness.

I laugh often and loudly
But rarely have much joy
And laughter is necessary to drown my thoughts
I try to hide the darkness
With a smiling face
Beware of what’s beneath my mask.

I was never pretty
But now and then I am beautiful
And for once I can say that without apology
I have striking features
And a kind heart
Beware of my newfound confidence.

I enjoy solitude
But longed for love
And was never happier than when I had someone
I gave love everything
And asked for nothing in return
Beware of my broken heart.

I am a sum of contradictions

Disaster, perfection

A mess, a masterpiece

I am not just a broken toy

Or the ghost of a girl who never lived

I am real. I am me.
And one day I will be enough.

Temporary

I am only temporary.
Fine in the short term
But be sure to discard me
When the time is right.

I am a stepping stone.
A halfway point
But remember,
I am not a final destination.

I am a plaster.
A dressing to cover a new wound
But try as I might
I cannot heal you completely.

Now that you know this,
You must know this too:

I am a person.
Skin and blood and bone.
I understand that I am temporary
But all of my pain is
Permanent.

Good Enough

They made me believe that
I was wrong from the start
That I was never bright enough
Athletic enough
Or good enough
To be theirs.

Their love had too many conditions
“You must do this and be that”
And everything was a question.
Why couldn’t I be different?
Why couldn’t I be better?

So I wasted my youth
Questioning myself and trying to meet
Unattainably high standards,
Whilst the anxiety and sadness and anger
Grew inside me and fused in my bones.

I became sick
And they had the nerve to tell me
My illness wasn’t real,
Because they couldn’t see it.
They never bothered to look.

When people tell my parents
How well I turned out,
Fury rises inside me.
I did not become good because of them,
I became good despite them.

And I have talents and passions
And morals and opinions of my own
They are mine and mine alone
And I have a future too
One that won’t include them

Because now I am old enough to know
That I was never the problem,
And pleasing them was not the solution.

Take it

I would gladly crack open my ribcage
And remove my beating heart
Beaten and bloody
Raw and red.

Take the damn thing
What use is it to me?

I would rather be
More machine than man
If it meant I could rid myself
Of all emotion.

I cannot go on this way
If I hope to survive.
My head cannot be ruled by my heart.

Some people die of weak hearts
But in truth,
All hearts are weak.

To love is to make oneself

Vulnerable.

Thinking of You Today and Always

My beautiful sister with blue-grey eyes
And caramel curls
Was loved by all who knew her
And adored by all who loved her.

She is never far from my mind,
Though occasionally she wanders
Within my thoughts
And through my memories.

I think of our past,
The shared songs and smiles.
Lying beside her and saying nothing
Because it was nice not to feel alone.

And her toothy smile (like sunshine):
Perfect in it’s imperfection,
With the power to melt
Even the coldest of hearts.

I think of the present
In which she is not present
But always there reminding me
That once I was loved

But I wonder what might have been
Had she survived and come home
In a car, not a coffin.
Would she have been the same?

Would she clap hands with people
And press her ear against their face
To hear them sing?
Would her laugh be as infectious as I recall?

And sometimes I think further back
And ponder the bigger “what if”.

Like what if she had been born the same
As everybody else
Had a voice and an opinion and
All the things I take for granted.

Would she have been bright and bookish
Or smart and sporty?
Would she too love music and art
And be like me?

Would she have been the perfect daughter
My parents wanted but never got?
Would she be pretty and popular and
Not at all like her big sister?

Would we have fought about clothes
And borrowed items never returned?
Would we have been best friends
Or would we be rivals?

These are ridiculous thoughts.
The past cannot be changed
And I wouldn’t change it
Even if I could.

Because all my life when I told people
About my beautiful little sister
With blue-grey eyes and caramel curls
They looked at me with pity

And said “that must have been difficult for you”
Which always made me laugh
Because loving her was
The easiest thing I ever did.

Day Trip

{for Nana}

Many years ago,
The four of us took a trip to Blarney
On a summer’s day with the sun
Warm on our pale skin.

As we walked I held your hand
And slowed my pace so that
I never had to leave your side.

You told me I could go and
Climb the castle to kiss the stone
And receive “The gift of the gab”

But instead I stayed and sat with you
On an old bench with chipped paint
And smiled in the sunlight
And the warmth of your presence.

We ate clementine oranges
And you told me how the world was
When you were young

And to this day
I have never felt more loved
Than I did in that moment.

Ten years have passed
And you have been gone for some time
But my love for you lives on.

I think about you often
and of the day we ate
clementines in the sun.

What I Leave Behind

There will come a time when there is no more time
My present will become my past
There will be no future

And I will have my regrets

I will think of all the people I lost and how
I should have loved them more

And the books I never read which gathered dust
And turned yellow on my bookshelf

The sunsets I didn’t watch because I assumed
There would always be another

And the money I had saved “just in case”
Which could have been spent on better things

I will mourn the memories I never got to have
The places I never travelled
The words I could have spoken
The people I ought to have kissed

Then, and only then,
Will I appreciate what I leave behind
The sound of laughter on people’s lips
The leaves changing colour each season
The feeling of fresh air in my lungs
Swimming in the open sea
Warm drinks on cold days
And long hugs from old friends

Too often in life
I focus on what has gone wrong
But so much in this world
Is good, and beautiful
And when I breathe my last

That is what I will remember.

Inspired by Despair

I have often feigned triumph
At the fact that I’ve survived,
The fact that I’m still breathing,
The fact that I’m alive.

But every day’s a struggle,
And each day brings more fear.
How long can I go on this way?
How much time have I left here?

I have cried out in the darkness
And willed my heart to stop,
Begged for eternal sleep
And then sobbed when I woke up.

I have stood upon the precipice
That separates life from death.
I did not have the courage to jump
But went as close as I could get.

It may be tough to hear this;
A young woman so distressed.
But life was not a gift for me,
I was always cursed, not blessed.

Of course there have been good times
And I hold those memories dear,
But they can only do so much
When the dark days reappear.

I know I’m not alone in this,
These feelings of despair,
For I am only one lost soul
Among the many more out there.

I do not look for sympathy
I just want to help you see
That those of us who struggle through life
Try very hard indeed.

I do not see a future,
So I live life day to day.
But I’m here for now, dear reader,
And for now, that’s just okay.

Disease

There is something inherently wrong
At the core of my being
Laced in the strands of my DNA

There is no cure for this
It has killed countless people
People better than me
People who deserve the best
That life can offer

But I don’t think I deserve this
This weight that never leaves my shoulders
This darkness that lingers in my thoughts
This disease that will one day be my undoing

I know my pity is sickening
It sickens me too
But I cannot fix what was always broken

So do not tell me to cheer up
Do not tell me it gets better
Do not tell me to live in the moment

I have spent my whole life wondering
Which breath will be my last

But every day I try
And I get out of bed
And I claw my way towards the light
And I am scratched and bruised
And sore and bleeding

But I am still here
And that’s something.