The Wolves They Came In Packs

When the wolf fell in love with the girl.

When the leader of the wolf gang looks your way in

worn out leather and faded tattoos

Believe him when he says he is no good, he had lived longer than you

Ah but his smile, that jawline, his hands on the small of your back

You felt safe for the first time in your life, really, despite the bad. 

He always smelt like hard whisky and smoke

Handsome with age

Hardened with age 

You wouldn’t cross him

If only by mistake like the time you smiled at that man across the bar

But you knew this whisky wolf loved you, really

He would scream it at you all the time, he’d steal flowers from the cemetery too, See I can be Romantic, he’d say, 

absent mother, abusive father, you never once saw him cry

You remember the wind in your hair, wild motorbike rides, 

Dancing on bars 

and tequila shots backwards, 

That time you were so drunk you nearly got his name tattooed, 

It almost felt end game, in bed, your head on his chest

the first time he told you he loved you,

The first time you told him you didn’t. 

Wanderlust

I fell in love

with a nightingale

He took my heart

And flew away

Do not fall in love 

with a nightingale 

They cannot stay

For this you pay

Its the wind 

you see?

It calls them still

It whispers:

Fly away from her

She will never do you good

A home girl and a Wanderer 

will always be apart

So take off now just be a man

Don’t mind her broken heart

The nightingale must fly away

There are so many things to see

I know you want to look at her

But think of Paris, Spain and Italy 

So fly off now don’t be afraid

Her face, it soon will fade

Just remember it is yours, the sky

and soar soar soar 

up high.

Your Rollercoaster Girl

Spoken Word Poetry

I think you were waiting for me to tell you that you were off the hook three years of your life wasted the sigh of relief at breaking the contract the oath of the long haul smashed my heart in pieces and ate the soft centre the look of surprise as though you were unaware there would be sharp edges blood dripping from your mouth onto our white pillows the ones we bought in the Zara home sale will you still remember my name five years from now and my lollipop tongue will you miss my smell my laugh and think of me sometimes like pepper spray to the eyes it will hurt like the pain I felt when you left remember the Ikea furniture flat pack all over our living room floor there is still a pink stain on the wall from the wine glass I smashed in a temper tantrum like a child I throw things and like an adult you walk away from me but difference is you don’t come back I leave the mark there for proof that I did not imagine our love that felt like forever but turned into regret what do you do when it is painful to stay and painful to go I think I will sit here and wait I think you will walk as fast as you can away from that rollercoaster girl.

You

Happiness looks pretty on us my love 

All I see is you

My heart is full

Is yours too?

Can we stay like this forever my love?

Before I change my mind

Before you do 

Before we find someone new.

In the End

That was how I loved you in the end

From the top of a cliff

Jumping 

A leap of faith in the dark

Falling

with grasping reaching arms

Not knowing 

if you were at the bottom

to catch me

Or not. 

Three Years

You told me the love story of how your mother and father met. They were young. They loved and left. Three years later they found each other again, somehow, by chance. Love returned. I loved this story. I guess, I thought, if I waited long enough you would come back to me too. We would have that epic love story that was always on the precipice, on the tips of our tongues, in the way you would look at me, in the way I would look at you. But the years passed, in seasons, in ups and downs, as life always does, and we did cross paths, lives, even bodies; I let you into my home, my bed. But you were a visitor and you never quite returned to me. You were older now, ambitious, but still the same to me. I was older now too, you said, all grown up, 25. It’s funny. But in my mind I was still 22, right there where you left, like a child I stood, just waiting for you to come back home. 

The Flower

I was that little girl who would water dead flowers to try to bring them back to life

Who grew into a woman who would love and give too much.

Even now, I am sad when fresh flowers, vibrant and beautiful, die.

I think that was how you left me in the end. Unwatered and clinging to life. 

Yellow Hope

That little room with bright yellow walls

How we laughed our way through the winter and summer

 

I hope yellow paint will always remind you

of my sunshine smile

My outdoor inside voice

My head on your chest

I hope you look back and think of that year together as magic

a time where you felt true happiness

 

I hope you meet another girl with a wild soul too

I hope you will be kind when she finds you.

 

-Yellow is the brightest color of the visible spectrum, and it is the most noticeable of all colors by the human eye. It means happiness and optimism; it is the color of sun shining, or bright light and creativity. … It is the color of high energy, enthusiasm, hope, fun, and cheerfulness.

Wildfire Love

And your name will pop up every blue moon as a warning mainly, remember him?

The friends who knew me then will say I loved you far too much, such a mistake they say, we are so happy you are in a better place.

Because there was love and then there was him.

But they do not know I am still right where you left. Eighteen, with bright wide eyes, my chaotic mind and wonky heart, still waiting for you to come back. I swear, this lifetime will pass in winters and summers, in life and death, and I will still love you. Years and decades will come and I will search for you in other people, I will see you in crowds, will swear I glimpsed your face for only a moment.

Because ours was a wildfire love.

It spread too quickly and before we could say slow down, we were engulfed,                    We were too caught up in each other,                                                                                        With each red and orange flame licked kiss bringing us to the precipice                              of our messed up teenage romance.

Because there was love and then there was us.

With Him

With you,

 

I didn’t write for a whole year Because I was so happy 

La la la In pretty dresses

My Sunday best

Your arms wrapped around me like a fuzzy cocoon

I didn’t want to wake up.

 

I wrap myself in blankets now

I traded dresses for trousers

I don’t wear much makeup anymore

I am starting to think it was all for you

 

Perhaps it’s all just a transaction in the end

 

But maybe now 

I will make my own cocoon 

And I will stop waking up at 3am  

wondering how a pillow replaced your chest.