Category: My Poetry

~ I drown my fears ~

drown

I drown my fears

I hold them under, thrashing  –
They are less frightening now,
Mewling like kittens
Those adorable, helpless things
Murderers of mice.

I drown my fears

In darkness, in whiskey waters
One hand clawed around their throats until
Gasping, they learn to be frightened of me
And like all hurting, frightened creatures
They learn how to snarl.

I drown my fears

My fears bob back up like swollen corpses,
Witches, undead, grotesque,
These restless dreads know only drowning now
And terror –  groping for light, for air,
For kindness.

Perhaps, I should have taken them home to the warmth instead.

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The Definitions of Possession

I commit a haunting in my skin,
A possession – but I do not possess myself in your eyes,
Only in the ways that ghosts do, clinging,
Violent, restless, in the places that used to be theirs…

Sometime, somehow, my body became a stranger,
And yet still I linger, howling like the best ghosts do,
Too big for my heart, too small for my woman,
I walk through walls now and try to convince myself I belong there.

Except, to you, we were never ours,
Possessed – witch, demon, to steal myself back into my arms
When I should have been a prize
Each day I die, each day I rise again
I cannot be exorcised.

You will not get rid of me.

when love is described like burning

burning

When I kiss you I taste smoke between my lips but do not think of burning. The crackle of flames has always been a homely thing – you invite me to warm my fingertips by your hearth.

When you make matchsticks out of my nerve endings I do not think of arson. I think of laughing, tracing sparklers bright and fizzing in the Autumn air. You write your name along my hip bones and the letters don’t fade so easily.

And when I burn for you, I do not think of water.
I think this is just like the movies.

Monster

They watch you shatter and I wonder what they think of me;
Some thing of careless cruelty
Or malicious intent, 
– I broke you either way.  

And yet, they forget
That a glass heart can be cutting too
The chips and cracks make you look so fragile
– You are all sharp edges now.  

They watch you shatter and I wonder what they think of me;
Fingers red sliced gathering shards, 
I will help you piece together again
– Everyone knows that bloodied hands are a sign of guilt.

Unfinished

I remember the smell of smoke
It creased into the folds of your tweed jacket
As I pretended to be asleep so you would pick me up
And take me inside.
Familiar, home
In the folds of your favourite jacket,
I didn’t know then…
I always loved a fire,
Crumpling sacrifices,
My exam schedule and your lungs burning,
The promises greyed like ashes in your mouth
And I stained my teeth trying to hold them.

It was never enough.

– i bring my monsters to bed –

I bring my monsters to bed and kiss the most wounded parts of them. And maybe that doesn’t make it better (because nothing can make it better) but a moment of feeling like it might is all I need. A moment, and then another moment, and a thousand moments for a lifetime.

I bring my monsters to bed and seduce them. Maybe if I do it well enough I can trick myself into loving me too.

I bring my monsters to bed and give them warm blankets and foreheads kisses, sweet things and soft words to be devoured, in the hope of lulling them into rest.

I bring my monsters to bed and let them tell me pretty things, and maybe they’re not true (I know that they’re not true) but if you paint something pretty enough you can convince yourself and sometimes that’s the same thing.

I bring my monsters to bed and kiss the most wounded parts of them. We are all hurting, catching on the edges of our teeth, and if I kiss them hard enough then maybe I’ll be a monster too. We will fear nothing.

I bring my monsters to bed because there is no point pretending they’re not there.

Tongue Twisters

I have a voice.

A voice like marbles mashed in my mouth,  

And running in a dream,

It makes me want to scream

Except then I’d have to hear it.

I have a voice.

Stumbling, catching, like fairy-tale thorns

On all the things I want to say,

Maybe silence is the better way

But there’s power in a voice.