I feel a soft warm
sickly feeling in my belly and
it’s not what I wanted at all
but I did it anyway
like always but then 
never at all

Almost.

I feel like it's almost the end. I feel the last threads of myself hanging onto my soul but soon they will blow away with the wind, never to be seen again. I feel a presence, like a black shadow, hanging over my shoulder, watching, waiting. I think it is death.

When I shut the door to you this morning, it felt almost like goodbye: I feel as if I am going somewhere that you cannot follow. My soul is stripped of everything that it used to be. It is nearly raw and blank and untouched; my presence barely lingers on in it any more. I am not here, I am somewhere else. My insides are frozen, my eyes made of glass, and my tears are nothing more than a brief memory passing through me, and on, and out. I do not feel enough to keep you hoping, wishing, dreaming of a past that is hardly even a whisper. I cannot be enough to let you stay. When the last remnants of myself are gone, I will let you go. I myself will then fade into nothingness, and soon after, that presence that I feel; that darkness gathering behind me, will step forward and take me away from this ghostly, grey existence.

I don't know how soon it is coming, but I can scarcely feel myself here. My mind is misty and I don't really see things, they just pass me by, mostly unnoticed. I don't want company. I am alone, and even myself has left me. I have no interests, except a faint enjoyment of photography – some stronger part of my personality clinging on – and every day is made up of time: of counting down hours, of minutes going past, every second of my inconsequential existence wasted.

I should not be here.

Ugly.

I am ugly on the outside and
ugly on the inside
I am ugly to me and
I am ugly to you 


I am a ghost or a shadow
lost inside myself
caught in a web that I have become  
horribly comfortable sitting in and
I’m almost smiling as I’m being eaten alive
I feel empty you see, but so full of that emptiness 

I love you when you’re gone
but I can’t cough it up when you’re around
and it’s not fair because I know it’s there
but I can’t push it from my core outwards
it’s burning in me but my lips are like ice and my body is cold 

and when I’m alone I want you
but when you’re beside me I crave solitude and silence
and I hate myself for every time I flinch and push away
and I despise myself for having no suggestions
for feeling everything and nothing
for not having anything to say
for the hardness in me where I was once gentle
and for the way that I am no longer much of myself
and instead I am endless numbers and fears and anger


I am ugly on the outside and
ugly on the inside
I am ugly to me and
I am ugly to you 
and I am so numb to it all but
I know my heart is breaking
you are everything that I need
but I don’t know what to do

30/03/12

Sometimes
I wonder
what it would have been like
how things would have gone
but the pieces never fit and
I didn’t feel exactly
how I felt it should feel
I never have

but observations
sewn together
in small, kind words 
got me thinking 
about movies
and cigarettes
and phonecalls
and most importantly, texts sent too late

if I had felt how I felt it should feel
then
it seems likely that
it would all be different now
and
that’s not what I want:
I found my most precious moments
and a bright shining star
and I would never give that up

but
all I’m saying is
that I’m grateful that there is still something
and I’m grateful that there are still words. 

Spring Walk.

With cameras we strolled
up to the woods and back again
with me pausing 
every now and again
to capture spring at its finest;
the blossom and the berries 
the trees and the bumblebees 
and the blue, blue sky

The sunshine makes me feel carefree
as we amble down the lanes
exchanging stories and gossip
and you pine over the girl that you bake cakes with
the girl you go shopping with
and write song lyrics with
the girl that you have fallen for
but don't know how to tell
or even if you should say anything at all

We come to the bench and
we sit and I smoke and
we talk more about girls and boys
and how young it all starts now
and I realise how much older you have become all of a sudden
as if it happened overnight and I missed the bit in between 
and you are even taller than me now when I always expect you to be shorter

It's nice, you know, to walk with you
and to talk with you
and to be able to say things that I have wanted to say for a long time
but couldn't because you were young
but now we can talk about things, real things, and you are old enough to hear them
and old enough to answer to them too
and it's wonderful 
really wonderful
that we finally have so much to say 

We walk in silence and
the daffodils have started to come out

the birds are singing
and today the sun has decided to make an appearance

you ask me what I am thinking
and it is hard to ever answer now because
I am always thinking the same thing
and my mind is not itself any more

you think of things that I do not care for
and I think with a brain of shadows and darkness
yet we both push past the murky clouds between us and
you hold my hand
you hold my hand with yours 

Light
empty
weightless
pain

I feel my
synapses starting to stutter
my 
brain disconnecting
my mind is all
air
and 
space

My eyelids are heavy 
and so is my 
skull
but
my thoughts are so
light
that they float around without being held by
anything
at all.