She sat shaking, with her head on my shoulder, the warm wet patch growing with each tear. For three years she had put up with varying cruelty. Thoughts ran through her head an endless stream. She loved him and she hated him and he’d manipulated her and he had insulted her and he’d cheated on her, and he was always late and she always paid for everything and she thought they would marry. And their blissful holidays together, and they’d gazed into each others eyes, and he’d moved in with her and she didn’t know whether she could trust anything he had ever told her and he’d made her feel so amazing. And he’d made her cry and now it had to end.

The screech of the buzzer echoed round the flat as we realised someone would have to answer it. But moments later there was a knock on the door. He must have charmed someone from downstairs. I wasn’t looking forward to the scene I knew must follow.

Wiping the salt trails from her eyes, taking a deep breath she glanced through the peephole and answered the door. She threw herself into his orange arms, her golden hair mixing with his dark as he rested his head on hers. I sat there awkwardly, wondering idly if he used St. Tropez. Over her shoulder he winked at me, “Alright.” I allowed him a tight-lipped smile, holding back many things I wanted to say. I tried to understand what she saw. She couldn’t possibly give him another chance could she?

Her body trembled as he rocked her gently backwards and forwards, a bored expression on his face. “‘S ok darling I’m here now.” Now. Three hours late, as soon as possible. She slowly pulled back and stared into his eyes assessingly. She remembered him calling her ugly, him throwing her across the room, him breaking her arm, when she found he had cheated on her and him softly kissing her goodnight. His gaze met hers, the emptiness telling her how little he cared. “Thanks.” Before she would have forgiven him, held him close and kissed him, now she wanted to forget how she felt and push him away.

They went into her room that night and he was gone by the morning. He had told her he loved her, he needed her, things would get better. At breakfast there were no tears but no smiles. Sadly I felt it would only be a matter of time until again she sat shaking, with her head on my shoulder.

Love's Clichés

They say they will "never leave" us, the people we love. They say "our love will last forever". They say "we have something special". "You mean the world to me." They say "no-one has ever felt like this before". And despite the clichés, despite having heard it before, we believe them - who's the fool here?

Clinging to the Memory

The stars on my ceiling start to fade, or maybe my eyes are closing. They’ve been there as long as I can remember and I keep meaning to take them down but something always stops me. Maybe it’s the fear of growing up. Maybe I just like them. They remind me of you and I'm not ready to let that memory go. If I leave them there, maybe you will come back to take them down.

Pop Culture

You are ok. I know after Big Brother you were convinced Mickey Mouse was going to propose and you'd have a Chantelle and Preston style wedding and live happily ever after like Jordan and Peter Andre after I'm a Celebrity Get Me out of Here. And no one, least of all you expected to catch him eating a Burger King after signing the big MacDonald's promotion with Justin Timberlake. But after a few Starbucks and a pint of Haagen-Dazs, you will get over it. You have that walk on part in Eastenders coming up. Just listen to a few itunes, check your facebook on your new apple and you'll feel better. So Mickey's been sent back to Hollywood. You don't need him. Go on a date with a footballer, sell your kiss and tell story to the Sun and you'll have Mickey begging you to take him back. And if all else fails, fight Gary Lineka for some Walkers salt and vinegar, they always do the trick.


Tears fall
from thick lined eyes,
down soft cheeks

dropping softly
soaking into the collar. More
tears fall

in streams
flowing salt trails
down soft cheeks.

Eyes redden as tissues
wipe, attempting to stop
tears fall,

unstoppable tears.
Sadness weaving its own pattern
Down soft cheeks.

Deep, choking breaths
shaking from pale lips, as
tears fall
down soft cheeks.

And all for what?

Bombs fell from the sky,
Small children start to cry,
Down every London city street,
Good and evil here do meet,
No-one knows which side is right,
But none will lose without a fight,
Battle after battle will be won,
But of the winner we’ll see none,
For he stays hidden away,
In some place all night and day,
Out of the way of the bombs that fall,
Crashing down on wall after wall.


Looking into the skyline,
seeing the darkness through
the light.
The colours dance around me.
It is a magical night.
Warm arms around my waist,
their strength keeps me from flying free
but in those gaps of darkness
my mind soars.
He'll never have the whole of me.


I am a bank account with high interest
but I only contain a few pounds.
I do not achieve my full potential,
but I could,
if you would let me.

I burn

I am a chilli.
I burn
and make your tongue tingle.
I can easily make you cry.

I am the theatre

I am a play
constantly rehearsing.
I am the understudy whose leading lady always goes on.
I am left in the wings when standing centre stage
because my leading man won't give his best performance.
I'm not ready for the curtain,
but I can see it start to fall.
I am the encore that's never called for.


If the dragon is not so much slain as silenced,
If the knight doesn't sweep you off your feet,
If you've won the battle but not the war,
If your life is not a fantasy,
It really could be real.

Impairment Disorders’ Grace

Lateral thinking bubbly champagne. Mental disorder refers to table talk or behavioural conditions that discover the new elegance or decorations for a dinner party. The most taxonomic systems, dresses to charm, flatter and captivate. I now understand
the importance of cosmetic surgery only drinking red drinks. Fur or against getting what she wants. White botox retail therapy sublime textures. Light reflecting Aristotle Santa land. Have you been good enough from tropical beats to tempting bites a whole body experience?
Sparkle and smile home centre feel sure genuine warmth is airbrush legs. Create a room premature aging that takes you away repair. Experiences the caress of vanity dew-drop freshness make friends with the sun. Splash translation under the knife. Disco climbing centre proof of the power of the club. Finger tips beyond retro for students’ apple of your eye. When they go out alive and spinning
vulgarity is awoken. Millions a wrap buy the right thing winter grace. Feast the senses exclusively making mischief with a personal touch. Night falls indoors help Santa causing functional impairment and save Christmas. Academic criminologists have traditionally ignored enchanting penguins. Life inside the gates Jardin de Paris touched by effecting a change of this kind.
Sleeping rough money to burn he dives back into expensive hotels. Factual or fictional autumn behind the scenes to spice up your bedtime reading. Maximum pleasure service with a smile post-op misunderstanding and dismay. Flamboyant diamonds liposuction last minute with the bad boy of yoga. Break their spirit and strike a pose as they grow into themselves. Pampering ultimate lingerie destination smoked trout and goat’s cheese companion. Colourful life
absolutely free in Manhattan your neighbourhood dry cleaner. To match your style chocolate beauty death.

Burning Chills

Through anguished nights I hear his cry
Broken hearts half mended lie
Still the whisper of shivering spine
Sending chills through ash and pine
Pulled through forces wise and old
Our non-fairy story forever told.

On That Bench

A whirlwind of emotions
so caught up in the sounds.
Spinning round in circles
we lift up to the clouds.

Swimming through the oceans
so careful not to drown,
wading through the water
the ripples circle round.

Spells of a magician
still sparkle in the air,
wands waving illusion,
no nightmares of despair.

Lost within the fortress
of greenery and leaves
but on that bench
we sit alone
lost within our dreams.

Dispersing Tension

Fingers flying over small square buttons,
sentences growing across glass pages,
quickly clickerty clacking towards end,
fragmented ideas run through puzzled mind,
white sheets sprayed with letters spurt from the box,
kerchink snaps the binding block trapping all.

Smoke spirals circling up to ceiling,
scents of lavender soar the surroundings,
relaxation born from curling tendrils,
while the amber tipped length glows fiercely
devouring each breath of burning powder,
settling dust signifies its ending.

Tomorrow's Yesterday / Ode to Deception

Soft sheets of snow slicing through the Sahara,
like a heat wave in the North Pole.
The radiant glow of each crystal rain drop,
outshining the summer sun.
Blue Sapphires sparkling in an orangey hue,
like a puddle of sunshine eating it’s rays.
Water trickling in a frozen stream,
like a dead man’s omens wrong.
Heart beats racing when all feeling’s gone,
as a butterfly with but one wing.
Whispering trees waving their stillness,
like the ecstasy of exploding silence.
Something forgotten but never gone,
like a memory of tomorrow.

The Blue Estuaries

Golden ripples cascading over cold shoulders.
Soft dark wool soaking up sun.
Pen in hand the words come,
Ink droplets erupt on the page.

Shining ripples toss side to side.
The clock ticks out half nine.
Gleaming dew blurs each windowpane.
Salt drops sprinkle on the page.

Blonde waves ripple as shoulders shake.
Silver tap drips out the time.
Red eyed rain on pink cheeks,
Trickling estuaries of a blank mind.

Nothing Inside

Claustrophobia in an empty mansion,
Heartache in your lover’s arms,
Mystery with all the answers,
A snowstorm on a summer’s morning.

The shouting of a distant whisper,
Hopelessness in children’s smiles,
Transparent emotions hidden within,
Suitcases full with nothing inside.

Heart Ache

Red circles where rain has fallen,
Fog drifts through the brain,
Illusion shattered like broken glass,
Each breath brings forth such pain.