Monday, 19 December 2011

You are but a dream

My friend wrote a poem, and they want to see what people think of it, so they asked me to publish it on here! Tell me what you think!!!!

I toss, I turn, I think of you
Same old stuff, nothing new
I think upon this special spark
Thats grown and grown within my heart

'Cause in my mind we'll dance and sing
Hold hand and smile at everything
But I'm not blind, I see its true
I do not mean as much to you

You're friendly to me but you draw a line
Anything less and that's just fine
But stray too far and woe is me
I get put down albeit gently

But still I dream of being with you
I hope and I pray, yet you haven't a clue
That you are the angel, the one in my life
The one I would marry and have as my wife

I know I aim high but you see thats just me
Yes, I'm aware that you're better than me
But common to me rejections a theme
And so I realise, my love, you are but a dream

Saturday, 26 November 2011

Never say never

This is the second poem:

It may not be now
It may not be soon
It may be in days yet to come time
But whether its soon
Or a long time from now
There is a chance it can happen somehow

So never say never
And never say always
There is always at least one exception

As so if you ever
Should hear in the hallways
A never, its deception


My friend once showed me two poems. I loved them immediately and this is the first of the two:

Some may think that it's a shame
That nothing ever stays the same
That what is good and fine today
May soon become another way
You can't just count on things to stay
The same they were just yesterday
Seem contradictory and strange
The only thing that's sure is change

But change is movement, change is growth
Not bad nor yet, and yet it's both
Of memories filled with days that passed
Have brought us here today at last,
And as the moving shadows cast
Ahead on what will be the past
As time moves on and rearranges
An infinite amount changes

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Secret affections

We sat. Just sat. And talked, of course. That big tree that stretched over us, hiding us and our secret from the outside. Our secret was that it was us against the world, and that we belonged to each other; no-one else.
The sun rose every day without fail, and we knew that everyday that this happened it would fill us with the joy and confidence that we were still us. Nothing had changed. As the sun rose, so did we. We filled the sky with the feelings we had for each other, and, even if the world didn't know, we knew this would last. The sun faded but we knew that this was just one more day to tick off of the calendar, and the next day would bring another adventure for the two of us to enjoy, together.
We returned to the tree, same as we did every other day. Our initials carved into the bark, binding out agreement in wood, making it public for the whole world to see. That was our tree. Each branch was a memory that we had together, stretched out, intertwined with each other, and made a beautiful silhouette of our time. We would sit every night and watch the sun move across the sky, the wind made the leaves dance in the descending sun light, the whole world was alive around us.
We threw seeds from our tree out to the grass around it, hoping that they would grow, and maybe one day, when they were old and wise, they would have the joy of hiding a couple under their long branches.
The wind is now bitter around me, as I wait in vain hope for your appearance. I sit and study the leaves that have fallen around me, and as I sit there and watch them die, I feel my feelings for you fade with them. Our initials that were once carved in front of me in our tree are gone and in its place, your name and hers stood strong side by side, with a letter pinned to it. 2 words. Your hand has written 2 words in that delicate handwriting. The 2 words that caused me to sink to the ground, among the dying leaves, in despair. Those 2 words that say everything, yet nothing at all. 'I'm sorry' I know exactly where you are, in the arms of her. The one girl you always held that secret affection for. Our tree lays dead around me, and as I turn to leave, I see one tiny shoot beginning to grow from one of the seeds that we planted when our tree, and our love, blossomed and grew for the whole world to see.

Wednesday, 14 September 2011

When will it work on me?

Same corridor, same eyes, same words. All that's different is the place. Walking down the long gauntlet, the same things are shouted from either side. Being pushed from one side to another, and into the arms of the people who just push you back. It seems like the people don't even have faces anymore, there are too many of them to keep track off. They are the same every time, nothing is different. There are no defining features of either place now.
I thought the rest would do me good. Give me time to build up my strength again. I walked in with my head held high, confident strides into the hall that once was filled with eyes that could terrify me. It felt good. It felt like people could see how I had changed just by the way I was looking at them. Then there they were. Those two people. They knew they had won and nothing had changed just by the way they looked at them. The laugh that escaped from them was barely needed as they knew they had turned me back into the timid girl I was before. My head shot to the same floor that I had studied for the past year, and my once long strides turned into a run past them.
I thought I was strong enough to go back and see them. Guess not. Guess the time I spent building myself back up again really could be destroyed in one quick look. I have to ask myself why it is like this. Why me? Why always me? Love life I was told! ...Why do I have to love this one? The one where just the mention of someone's name can make me feel like I want it to be over. Confident...I give the illusion well now I feel. I have been perfecting it over the last few years. It seems to have worked on you. The question is: when will it work on me?

Sunday, 21 August 2011

Can you lose something you didn't have in the first place?

'A lost cause'. Words I heard once. What is a 'lost cause' though? It is only a 'lost cause' when you give up. Surely until then, it is a 'cause in progress'. You make it a 'lost cause'. You make it worthless and useless. If I give up then what I worked for doesn't mean as much to me as when I started. Yet, isn't that what I was trying to avoid? Trying to stop them from forgetting me, and isn't that what I'm doing?

You told me to give up. Yet, if I give up, everything I have done is wasted. Everything I worked for is useless and it may take me back further than I was when I started. That makes it worse than it was when I started, so giving up isn't right thing to do.

You told me to cut my losses. What losses? I haven't lost anything yet. I still have everything that is in my head, it is still there. But if I cut my losses then I lost it. Shouldn't I carry on fighting now? Can you lose something you didn't have in the first place? Can you claim something when it belongs to someone else? Can you hold on to a wish of what something could be?

So answer me this, if I give up now, why is it only me who loses?

They are all.

When did they eyes in the glass become judgemental? Telling me the lies that only they can see through. The only person I can never escape. The one person I can never escape. The one who will always tell me the truth. The one I could never deceive. When did they become right? They changed into what I hated. They stand there, taunting me. Mimicking me. Copying all I say and do. They have all the experience of my time locked into them.
The glass moves as I do. We are one and the same. They show me what I will be with themselves. All that I am now. They show me what I know but have forgotten and hidden. They are the memory I can never forget. They are the past, the present and future. They are the forgotten and the remembered. They are the good and thebad. They are the favoured and the alone. They are the dark and the light. They are all.
The eyes that show me who I am. The eyes that cause me to run and hide. The eyes that compel me to leave their sight. The eyes that never allow me to leave.The eyes that show me what I am. They eyes in the glass. The glass mirror.

Monday, 18 July 2011


You left. How could you? You left me with her. Just her. How could you? You knew she was bad. Yet you felt it fine to leave me in her care. I understand why you left. I think you did the right thing. What she did was horrible and I totally agree. I would have done the same.
How did you do it though? You went from being a father, to a stranger overnight. How did you do it? I get why you can't love her anymore, but I never did anything wrong. It was just her. So why did you stop loving me too? How did you stop seeing me as a daughter? Please tell me so then I can stop seeing you as a father.
Every time I see you it hurts. Remembering all of the times we had together and knowing we will never have them again. Knowing you will always be the 'almost' guy. We were 'almost' a family. 'Almost' happy. 'Almost' the fairy tale everyone looks for. The 'what if' guy. 'What if' that never happened.'What if' she never did that. You will always be the one that we compare everything to. Was it as good as with him? Is it the same? Things will never be the same.
I just want things to be the way they were before. Everything to be back to normal. I'd come home and you would be there. You would be running about the house looking for things as you were going straight back out again. I would come in and here the sound of your voice, and knew this was where we all belonged. How we would always have people over to our house, as we were always the best family to do it. The way everyone knew us, because we were the perfect family.
You treat them differently. The other two. I know you should. They are yours. I was always borrowed. Yet, you used to treat me like them. All I want is for you to treat me like them again. I miss it. I miss you.   You were always there for me. you knew what to do. You were always calm and collected. You were good for us. For both of us.
You can get over this. You two. You love her, and she loves you. You know she does, and I know you do. All you have to do is trust her again. I know it is harder than I make it sound, but that is all it is. Trust. Get that and you can make it work. I know you can. You were so good together. Everyone said so. You used to walk through town, and people used to be jealous of what they saw. The two of you. So in love.
How do I describe you now? You aren't you anymore. Not my 'father' anymore. A guy my mum used to date? But you were so much more than that. How do I explain you now? You need to sort this out
I need you.

Because of you.

     You only ever think of yourself, don't you? Never think of me or anyone else. Never think of how your actions effect us. You rush in, and do what you feel like. You never stop and think about how what you do may hurt me or affect me in some way. You think that you are the only one who has to face the consequences of your actions. But you're not. I do too.
    The way you act has an affect on me. People hear your name and look badly on me. They think of all the bad things you have done, and all the things you are doing now. They know we are the same, so they expect me to do the same as you do. Have all the same mistakes that you do. I don't want people to think of me like that. I don't want to be associated with your mistakes.
    Can't you see they are worried? They all care about what you do. They watch you fuck up your life, mine too. I have to be with  you. I can't get away. They are worried about you, and in turn worried about me. They know I have to be with you. I have to stay by you and watch you destroy everything we ever worked for. All the relationships we made are being destroyed. People don't want to know us because of you.
   You need to change what you are doing. You can get me sent away. You can lose your job and get me taken away from you. If anyone finds out what you are doing then we are both in trouble. We are separated. They won't give me back to you for years. You will be on your own. You rely on me too much, and everyone else. You won't survive on your own.
  So how are you going to change? You need to stop everything. Now.

Sunday, 3 July 2011

You have no idea do you?

You have no idea do you?
The way you hurt me.
The way you cut and scar me,
The hurt you caused to me.
A daily constant reminder,
The scars only I can see
The memories they brought back
I'm in constant agony.

You have no idea do you?
The way you make me feel.
My actions make mean outcast
And outcasts never heal.
The people give me weird looks
They whisper behind my back
They push me out of their lives
And tell me never to come back

You have no idea do you? The way you shape my life.
The names you call me
Affect me for the rest of my life.
I can hear your voice in my mind
As I go about day to day
The words you said all those months ago
Just think before you say

You have no idea do you?
How strong I am thanks to you.
Everything that happened made me grow
And now I'm something new.
I stand confident and tall
Walking big and tall
I am a better person than I was before
And I have only you to thank for it all.

Tuesday, 21 June 2011


I don't mean to hurt you. I do it by accident. A few words and I can break you into a million pieces. I tip-toe around you, trying not to cause any damages, but somehow I always do. I watch what I say, making sure none of it could hurt you, but then you catch me off guard, and I said something that hurts you.

It is all because of the feelings you have for me. It makes you breakable and delicate. Anything I say to you gets analysed closer than anything would from someone else, so something bad that is said, seems so much worse coming from me. I don't resent you for it, I do it to sometimes. It just makes things complicated.

You are just so fragile. I know you don't mean to be, but you are. A dew words and you can be hurt. I suppose I can be too, it isn't just you. Yet your feelings for me can make you hurt more than most.

I try to hold you together. I try to glue you back to how you were, but there is always a piece missing. You are never the same as you were before I broke you. You have always been changed and altered slightly, and I'm worried if I keep on breaking you, then eventually there will be nothing left. I can see the damage I do to you. I see it every day when I look at you.

Then I think I have got you glued up again, and you are fixed and ready to be sent out on your own. I cradle you and try to make sure no one hurts you, as you have been told, I'm very protective over you, but I can never protect you enough. Someone always comes along and breaks you again. Maybe that is my problem. I cradle you so hard and try to protect you from everything, that I don't see someone coming to hurt you.

Sometimes it is me. I say something and you get hurt. You break and I work to rebuild you again. I push all the pieces together carefully, fitting them together like a puzzle. though the picture has been distorted. Yet, sometimes it isn't me who breaks you. Someone else comes along and undoes all my hard work. They come along and wash away the glue, and make you fall to pieces again. My work can be broken in seconds.

Then it comes to me. One day I might not be there to pick you up and fix you. Who will be there to rebuilt you then? I will have to pass on everything I know to someone else. The thought cripples me. A stranger rebuilding you. Putting their hands on the person I have been rebuilding for years. The one who I cradled and soothed when they were in pain. The one who has been through everything with me, and we both got out on the other side. Who is this stranger that has come to replace me? I can't let go of you. Ever.

Thursday, 16 June 2011


A wise friend once told me that there were too many battles going on inside my head. I was fighting them silently and they were causing harm to me, without me even realising it.

But isn't that what life is? One big fight between doing what is right, and what is fun? Between what is socially acceptable, and what you accept within yourself? Between hurting yourself, or hurting someone else? Between trying to please the people close to you, and still doing what is right for you? Between changing for someone, and yet not losing sight of who you were first?

Isn't it all about getting the right balance? It isn't that you have to choose between them, you just have to choose the right amount of each. You don't get one or the other, you can have the best of both. But we all know that sometimes it doesn't work out like that. You don't always get the best of both, sometimes you get the worst. You get the worst possible outcome, which is often the one that doesn't please anyone.

It's not the choices we make in life, it is the way we handle the outcome, that makes us who we are. We can make the best of a bad situation, and this makes us a better person.

So aren't all these battles inside my head in fact a good thing? They make me a stronger person, and give me the skills to make the right choices the next time the battle comes around. So tell me this, why should I work to get rid of the battles in my head, when they are making me stronger?

Monday, 13 June 2011

But you are....

How can you be that amazing and not know it? Can't you see that you are making the world a better place by just being alive? Why can't you understand that you light up the room when you walk into it, and you can capture everyones attention by just smiling?
How can you be this perfect and not see it? I wish you could see that as soon as you are there, I forget anything that has happened ad the whole situation is perfect. I told you ever day, would you understand that if I had the chance, I wouldn't change one little think about you? I love everything about you, but I know you cannot see that.
How can you be that considerate, and not see you are? You take everyone else's lives above your own, and would be willing to mess your own up to get them to the top. When did you become so humble? Were you born with it, or did you become considerate when you were older?

When did being modest become cute? When did being stubborn become adorable? When did you stop seeing all these things that you are?

Wednesday, 8 June 2011

This is me.

I am controlling. I take comfort in knowing that I am in charge of what happens to me. I feel safe in what I know, and what I can change. I am calmed by the knowing that nothing happens without me planning and evaluating it first, weighing up the possibilities and all outcomes, till, after much thought, I chose a path to take.

I am needy. I depend on what I know won't leave. I trust with little ease, but when I trust, I trust with my whole self. I seek the stability that I know comes with independence, and self-reliance. Yet. knowing this doesn't make me any less dependent on others. I share out problems with my friends, but it is often too late to help.

I am fragile. I am easily broken and hard to fix. I am hurt by the smallest of things, and can be hurt for a life time. I will dwell on something that has made me hurt, until I am finally ready to expel it from my mind. It will control my every thought and movement until that day that I can finally let go.

I am insecure. I am constantly evaluating myself and comparing me against others. In me, I see many qualities I despise, and that in other people would cause me to turn and walk away from them. The qualities I see will be heighten when I know they are there, and this causes me confusion and hatred towards myself.

This is me. I am all of these things, but I am also a lot more. Those who dwell on the bad side of me never get to see the good side. My loved ones will look past my flaws and even embrace them. For they love me for who I am, and always will.

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

Do you?

A simple conversation. A hug. A smile across a room. That's all it took for me to love you. An hour and I knew you were special, I knew you were going to mean a lot to me. And look at us now sweetheart, look what we have become. 

People warned me away from you. Different things worried them and things didn't quite sit right in their heads with us. True we are different to most people, but isn't that what makes us amazing? We ignored their warnings, we carried on as we were, and now, here we are.

Just being with you was enough to make me smile. Sitting, talking, listening. Just simple. My friends used to get annoyed when I kept talking about you, about what had happened. They teased me about you, saying I like you. I denied it, of course, but they didn't know that I actually did. 

Now I don't talk about you that much. It's just too complicated. Words don't do it justice. How do I describe everything that we have been through? It was too amazing to try to put into words. The conversations, the feelings, the looks you give me. It is locked away into my memory, but I would never do it justice by explaining it. 

You mean so much to me now. not just an ordinary friend, but not anything more either. You are just that amazing person that lives within my mind, in your own little section. I think what it would be like to have you to myself. Just us. That day would be the best. Free to do whatever we want, without any complications. No restrictions, not having to conform to the views of society. 

Do you even think like that? Try and see us together. Imagining what could happen, imagining a future. When you look forwards, who do you see standing next to you, if anyone? Have you thought about what to say to my parents? Do you even see yourself with me?

Well my dear, do you?

Monday, 6 June 2011

One day

One day you are going to wake up and realise I am not who you think I am. You will see through the act, see who I really am. You will see the true horror within me, and run scared. You let you defences down, and now you have cared for a true monster.

One day you are going to see through the lies and tricks, see through my defences and look into the true heart of me. You will stand and look upon true evil and question your own judgement. You will witness the innocence of the young turn into desperation of the tortured.

One day you are going to doubt who I am, who you though I was, and who you thought I was going to grow into. You will see the young girl you once loved slip away, into everything you always hated. You will see the change within her immediately, yet the feelings you have for her are compelling you to stay.

One day you are going to walk away, hate who I am and move on. You will leave me and never look back. You will rid me from your memory, and only think of me when you think of hate. The dark thoughts inside your head, hidden in a terrible place, will lead you to think of me.

One day you are going to wonder what you ever saw in me, and you will realise your own stupidity. You will always think twice before loving someone so young again. The things you once loved about me, and now the things you hate the most, because they are the things that have changed.

One day you will realise that everything I warned you about was true.

Saturday, 4 June 2011

People ask me what I dream

The colours exploded in my mind as the world lays dormant around me. The fire dances at my feet as I can feel the waves of heat rise onto me. Orange and red tongues lash out to grab me, trying to consume my whole body. Those eyes that stare through the fire never leave. That smug look on the face of the man who is trying to kill me.

Pulling at the ropes binding me to the wood, I feel it rising. The flames are just blow my feet and the heat is becoming too much for my uncovered body. The smoke makes me gasp for breath and my body moves with the fire, almost as one.

I can feel it climbing up my leg. The flames burning at my skin, threatening to rip me open. The cracking sounds around me are drowned out by my screaming. The eyes slowly look away as he turns to leave, ready to move on.

All I can see now is flames. They have engulfed my whole body, all the way up to my head. I can no longer feel where each body part begins and the other ends. I don't know how much of me is left, or how much the fire has eaten away. The wood breaks and I am thrown down into the fire once more.

The coldness hits as I wake. My breath, fast as I struggle to stop the screaming. My mind tries to make sense of all the strange shapes around me, and recognise where I am in the darkness. The pain is gone and the world is no longer alight. The fear of the fire is gone but I am too scared to go back to sleep.

Every night, this is what I dream.

Wednesday, 1 June 2011


Ah the joyous half-term is apon us. That amazing time when the children are taken out of school and whisked away to a fun packed adventure holiday.
The ride there commences. The car is packed up and the fight for who gets control over the music begins. The car is too hot, then too cold. The traffic jam means the drive is going to take longer. But what do the children do? Moan.
They are excited for the first few days, then the parents want a break so they have a day in. What do the children do? Moan.
You tell them to go and make their own fun. Go for a walk, go for coffee with their sister, and what do they do? Moan.
When that day of rest is over, the activities resume. The walking everywhere begins, the running and the cueing begins. But what do the children do? Moan.

Back at home. Relax. It's over. The small ones will be running off with their friends. They are out everyday and you can relax.
They are sat at home, the rain pouring down outside. Their friends are busy and the house is just so boring. You tell them to get out from under your feet as you have things to do. But what do they do? Moan.
It's nearly over. They will be back at school soon. Just one more day. The school uniform is in the washing. School bags are ready, and the pack lunches are just waiting to be made. Yet, your little angel wants their rugby top, sparkly jeans, your earrings. What do they do? Moan.

7:00 comes around and you wake them up with breakfast and a cup of tea, trying to make the first day back easier. They roll over and throw you out of the room. Then the rush begins for the bathroom, breakfast, and clothes. What do they do? Moan.
Out the door at 8:15 and in the car. Everyone at different places, different times, different people to pick up. The fight for the front seat begins. What do they do? Moan.
Through the door is your angels, with their hair tangled, clothes dirty and lunch half eaten. The conversation is forced as you try to find out how their day was. Arguments have already began, the teacher was ill, and the books were in the wrong place. No one asks you how your day was. All they do? Moan.

Children. Those little bundles of joy that bring smiles to everyones faces as they laugh along with the adults, never quite understanding. When did it change from the quiet giggles to the moaning children? Aren't holidays meant to be relaxing?


What was the point? It all ended for no reason. Well, there was a reason but it wasn't a good enough one to throw all of that away. One text. That's all it was. One stupid text. 

None of them deserved this. He has mucked everything up. The whole family has just gone. He took his daughters with him. Her daughter's sisters. They don't want to talk to the daughter now. All over that stupid argument. She took the mothers side, they took his. Everyone could see it coming. Yet, she gets shouted at for it?

She still has to see him at school. Everyday seeing his face. Knowing the effect he had on her mother. Sit in his classes. Pretend like nothing has happened. How is she meant to do that? 

She never used to get attached to the mother's boyfriends, because she knew they would always leave. Except this one was different. She let her guard down and started to accept him. It took a while, but she did. Then he did what all the others did. Leave. It doesn't matter why he left, he just did. 

Her whole life is up in the air now. Her friends don't know what to do. They give her sympathetic looks and kind words, but none of it helps. They all go around the subject, but it just hangs in the air. An elephant in the corner.

The house looks empty without his stuff. All of those pictures will have to be taken down. Of him and her. Of all of them. She wont want them, neither will he. Maybe he will secretly take one of all of them when he leaves. Something to remember them all by. It can't have all been bad. He loved them all before didn't he? He must have done. 

How will she cope through it? The change. It's all come at the wrong time. Everything has changed so much already, and more will again. The mother is strangely fine. Coping well. Better than she is by far.

So much stupid change.