Better.

Take my shoulder back now,
Your head’s too heavy for me.
Please don’t come around here no more,
I asked you to stop and you wouldn’t.
I loved you ‘till it killed me,
So my logic wouldn’t hurt you.
I know you might blame me anyway.
Well I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.
I’ve tried all the things they told me to do,
Tried to close up the wounds left open by you,
And if I seem doubtful, distrusting, I am.
You said you wouldn’t do it again,
You said you wouldn't do it again...
I would give anything to make you better.
I would give anything to point you to free.
I would give anything to help you realise:
You're not helping yourself by hurting me.

Please go away.

A Fairytale.

Once upon a time, the Prince, he broke her little heart,
She leaked her pretty sorrow, watching midnight fall apart.
She crossed her little fingers as she forged a dainty smile,
Her heart became so numb so she could feign a little while.
He'd whispered her sweet nothings and they echoed in her mind,
But empty promises were the only comfort she could find.
She fled from the august castle that she never could call home,
And lost herself in memories; paralysed and so alone,

She heard a faint, sweet whisper from the stars that shone above,
'Fear not my child, my Princess, I am God and I am Love'.
Though she knew she knew this, now she really knew she knew,
Her crux did smile, did shudder, for he so sovereign and so true.
But to live happily ever after, she must loyally realise,
Heart of woman cannot be found in the sparkle of man's eyes.

I've got the 'Shakes'

'Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn;
If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking and you beat love down.'
Are we a 'pair of star cross'd lovers'?
Then 'I defy you stars' in uncertainty.

I am an asphyxiated girl now.
I surrender to you.
I hope you don't see this.
It certainly is killing me.
I'm tired of square one.

I love Shakespeare, until death do us part. And maybe a little after that, when I 'Heaven+' it. Inside joke.
Somebody understand, please?
No, shut up. All of you.

The Biggest Day of My Life

My eyes glaze over like sugar-icing on fairy cakes. I blink and take a deep breath. There it is; the dress. It seems to float above the crimson carpet, posing gracefully with such flawless perfection. The sweet-heart neckline, speckled with delicate pearls, each sewn by a single slender hand, sparkles softly as the sunshine glows through the curtained window. A sea of angelic, snowy silk flows divinely from the laced waistline, and dances, gently, in its own magnificence. It is perfect. Just as this day simply has to be. The biggest day of my life...

* * *
Ethan and I met seven years ago. I was just seventeen and he was a rather alluring nineteen years old. I’d, yet again, managed to delude the bouncers of ‘Cheers’, the local nightclub, with a flutter of my eyelids, and a giggling ‘Of course I’m eighteen!’. It would be fair to say that I was enchanted by Ethan’s dreamy brown eyes and his oh-so-sultry stance as soon as my friend, Lucy, and I tottered through the door. I exhaled a mesmerized “Wow” under my breath and only succeeding in peeling my captivated eyes away from him after Lucy dragged me, half-paralyzed, into the ladies toilets. She revived me, eventually, but I could only muster monosyllabic answers for the next few minutes. I can’t say I remember much about the rest of the night. I merely intended to ready myself with a little ‘Dutch courage’; however I do believe my plan went a little too far.
When I awoke the next day - at the foot of my bed, might I add? – Lucy explained to me all that she remembered of the night before. The details are not necessary, but the essential part was, I had spoken to Ethan and given him my number. I didn’t dare even attempt to recall the events of the previous night, I was satisfied with the knowledge that digits had been exchanged, and that was enough.
The longest three days of my life passed until, finally, my phone buzzed with excitement. It was a message from Ethan. I can still, to this day, remember exactly what that first message said:

Hey Isobel, it was nice to meet you the other night! I hope you’ve sobered up, love ;) Like to meet up some time? Ethan :)

My heart certainly skipped a beat...or twelve. I eagerly tapped a reply into my phone, then paused for a minute, in the attempt to play ‘hard to get’, as I had been advised frequently by my girlfriends! Then I clicked ‘send’ and performed a most spectacular victory dance, before realising that I was sitting in the canteen of my college - with a highly entertained audience. But I didn’t care too much - Ethan had text me.

* * *
This place is rather chaotic right now. The flurry of magenta bridesmaids seem to be dancing around me, buzzing like bees at work. This room is vibrant and alive; I can even feel a humming from the maroon walls. I have truly never experienced this sensation before. My stomach seems to be bubbling like hot honey and the fizzing inside feels as though I’ve been shaken, ready to burst. I still cannot believe this day is actually here. The biggest day of my life...

* * *
The first date was fabulous. I spent a grand total of five hours preparing myself with the fundamentals; make-up, hair and outfit. And at make-up version four, hair style nine and outfit twenty three, I was ready to go. So, after one final glance in the mirror, I left the house.
I’d love to tell you that the first date entailed a three course meal at a five star restaurant, followed by a moonlit stroll along a countryside path. However, we were both students, with minimal sterling to our names, so it was actually one large pizza between two at Pizza Hut. But it surely did not matter, because Ethan truly was terrific. For the entirety of the evening his gentle gaze transfixed me. I gushed with glee at his every word and fluttered my lashes like butterflies. I had never been so smitten.

* * *
The antique clock, hanging nobly above the fireplace says '11.03’ which means there’s only one hour and fifty seven minutes left. That seems ludicrous. I have waited for this day for, what seems like, a lifetime. I can hear my forlorn heart pulsing expectantly in my chest. My hands are moist with anticipation. I dare not stand, in fear of my timorous legs losing loyalty to my body. I need to breathe. But I feel as though I have forgotten how to. My heart is still holding on. This day is here. The biggest day of my life...

* * *
I have never had a birthday quite like my eighteenth birthday. Aside from the discernible splendour of becoming a ‘real’ adult in the eyes of society, eighteen was, for me, the first birthday I felt like a woman. I had really matured in the ten months I had spent with Ethan, and he had made me into a light-hearted woman with great self-belief, the likes of which I never believed possible. I knew who I was and, more importantly, who I wanted to be; all thanks to Ethan. He gave me a twinkling glow and as we lay, tender-eyed in an open field on that day, where Ethan had prepared a picnic for two, we made our love complete. I will never forget that day for as long as I live.

* * *
My golden hair is barrelled in loose curls that fall lightly onto my shoulders. As I look at it in the mirror, tweaking the odd hair just a little into place, I see my face. It looks weak with an exhaustion far exceeding the lack of sleep that was stolen from me last night. The indigo of my eyes has lost a sparkle of excitement that once made them silently glisten. My faded skin is tender with a subtle wonder, a soft fear. I smooth my fingertip over the cluster of freckles, scattered like the mosaic of a starry sky. Angel’s kisses. That’s what he used to say to me. My freckles were angel’s kisses, spilled from heaven to only those worthy. Am I worthy of this day? The biggest day of my life...

* * *
I can still recall the enchanting ebony of the midnight sky on that July evening. Ethan and I lay silently beneath the stars, painting treasured art with our fingertips stretched to the sky. I was twenty years old then and I can still hear those four words echoing in my mind. As my eyes bled water, my heart bled a deep love. His words shattered my soul .I knew, from that day on I would never be the same.

* * *
It’s twelve fifty nine. I am sitting faintly outside St Catherine’s Cathedral. There’s only one minute to go. I step out of the immaculate cream car, supported by the young chauffeur. I thank him softly and inhale the clean, summer air that surrounds me. We, the bridal party, begin to walk slowly, gently towards the entrance. Somebody gives a nod of the head. The organ pipes chime with elation. The assembly rise. The day truly begins. The biggest day of my life...

* * *
Those moments in time are so short. The moments that secretly define us, though we do not know it at the time. Those moments that are indelible, with no way of modifying, though we may wish on every star of every sky of every galaxy above. Those moments that replay in our hearts and minds with a deafening silence, yearning for cessation. His eyes are etched into the canvas of my spirit. His cold, shallow gaze. His smile, eloquent, with a pernicious beauty. His hand, cupping my frozen face. His smooth, serene breath, tickling my skin. His rueful apology. His four words:
‘It’s always been Lucy’.

* * *
My smile whispers lies as she glances at me jubilantly, in that stunning, ivory gown. The dress.

'Happiness feels a lot like sorrow;
Let it be, you can't make it come or go.'

She can't believe she's angry,
She can't quite understand,
How all her muffled beauty,
Lay stagnant in his hand.
She knows she doesn't hate him,
And surely never will,
So ceaselessly she'll dance on,
In this blessing of free will.
You do not earn your freedom,
It always has been there,
But the day you do discover,
Please run without a care.

'Let it go, live your life and leave it,
Then one day you'll wake up and she'll be home'

'We'll make sure to build your house brick by boring brick,

Or the wolf's gonna blow it down'

The hardest thing to conquer, when you know you've got to start again: Pride.

Get over yourself.

This is a personal address.

"All this gravity it causes my tears to fall,
You said the wrong thing, when you said nothing at all.
You cannot see tommorow when you're lost in today,
But your eyes are never blind to the bliss of yesterday,
You remember that.

We were dancing with shoe laces untied,
But the morning brings mercy, you softly sigh.

Don't worry about me, dear; not that you were,
Sometimes your eyes whisper that, your heart, it does care.
Are they flaunting their love right in front of my eyes?
Or is that just how it seems since those long goodbyes?
Do you remember that?

We were dancing with shoe laces untied,
But tommorow brings mercy, you softly sigh.

I simply cannot comprehend the way that I feel,
So I just sit so still and wait for all this time to heal.
I don't want to want you, but I want you anyway,
And even if you did ask, I'd say I was Ok.
Please, remember that.

We were dancing with shoe laces untied,
But tommorow brings mercy, you softly sigh.

Yes, we were dancing, just dancing, with shoe laces untied,
So we were bound to fall, however hard we tried,
From the depths of love, you simply cannot hide,
And you must have forgoten to tell me that you secretly lied,
Now I've emptied the ocean with the tears that I've cried,
No there's nothing more painful than a reluctant goodbye.
But the morning brings mercy, you softly sigh."


Tune.x

ps. ARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Night.x

So, I want to say something. But I haven't the physical (or emotional) energy to articulate it myself. At least not as eloquently as I would wish to. So, as I have done before, I'll steal somebody else's words. This song just makes me feel peaceful in my emotions. It's so true that we, as humans, love to dwell. It's frustrating and quite moronic, but we do, and I certainly do. So, I guess this is me dwelling, virtually, because I just want to. So there. Yes.

'Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation,
Darkness wakes and stirs imagination,
Silently the senses abandon their defences,
Helpless to resist the notes I write,
For I compose the music of the night.

Slowly, gently night unfurls it's splendour,
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender,
Turn your face away from the garish light of day,
Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light,
And listen to the music of the night.

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams,
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before,
Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar,
And you live as you've never lived before.

Softly, deftly music shall caress you,
Hear it, feel it secretly possess you,
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight,
The darkness of the music of the night.

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication,
Touch me, trust, savour each sensation,
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in,
To the power of the music that I write,
The power of the music of the night,

You alone can make my song take flight,
Help me make the music of the night.'

Wow.Wow.Wow.
I'll just get lost in this, because someone seems to have forgotten something...

They say Love is friendship set on fire, so, of course, you could quite easily get burned.
But the magic, the deep orange glow of this fire is so beautiful you cannot help but reach out and touch it.
The enchantment of that moment in the fire will always be worth the scar.

For the tiniest moment...

I am miles away from you;
I can see you right there,
When I close my eyes it isn't true,
But open wide it isn't fair.
They told me that the sunshine
May glow upon my path,
But living on that lifeline
Leaves a burning aftermath.
Tommorow seems too far away
To be the answered prayer,
And when you're lost in yesterday,
Today just does not care.
I fill my lungs reluctantly,
Tell myself to simply smile,
I think I want their sympathy,
But it only lasts a while.
I dance in a fresh energy
And wonder how I could,
I think I'm losing memory,
Maybe I never understood.
I wonder if I dreamt this,
Maybe it all isn't true;
Could you still be the sweet bliss?
Could the answer still be you?
Or are the people right?
Should I believe what they say?
Or hold on to that last night,
And know that we will be Ok?
You're words are on a loop,
Lulling me to sleep,
They're begging me to stoop
To a slow and silent creep
Towards you, to forgive you,
To say it's all just fine,
To hold you and ask: Who
Said that you could not be mine?
And all this is just a moment
Of thought flowing through my heart,
From the look that you just sent,
That tore my peace apart.
But how can I be peaceful
When I must close my eyes to see?
I begin to become hopeful,
Then it all comes back to me.
You could be just happy,
Amongst this whisper, this star,
And though it sweetly hurts me,
I really hope you are.


Ch-chin up.

It's not fair to write a song to a woman, no. Because a woman takes a song into her heart...

"And for the youth, quick, let us strip for him
The thyrus, that his watching eyes may swim
Into forgetfulness; and, for the sage,
Let spear-grass and the spiteful thistle wage
War on his temples. Do not all charms fly
At the mere touch of cold philosophy?
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
We know her woof, her texture; she is given
In the dull catalogue of commen things.
Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings,
Conquer all mysteries by rule and line,
Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine -
Unweave the rainbow, as it erewhile made
The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade."
Keats: Lamia, L225-238

I wanted to make a point of which I have been pondering, passionately, of late and this extract was simply perfect. In it's simplicity: Love deciphered is Love destroyed.

How enchanting?

Emotion;

any strong agitationof the feelings actuated by experiencing love, hate, fear etc, and usually accompanied by certain physiological changes such as increased heartbeat or respiration, and often overt manifestation, such as crying or shaking.

I'm glistening in your bitter sweet,
Are these tears of gentle joy or those of stifling sorrow?
I'm sparkling this sweat of fear,
Frantically smearing these beads of woe - away!
Excuse me, are you listening?

I'm tangled in your lullaby,
As you hum in heartless harmony, his memory,
I'm hypnotised in your honey,
You're illusory comfort mourns with me,
Excuse me, I feel strangled!

I'm raging from your innuendo,
Concious of the pumping blood, bursting at the seams,
I'm wasting in your enchantment,
Your apex and nadir, how are they parallel?
Excuse me, now I'm ageing!

I'm calm in your vanilla,
This game of hide and seek, curiously pacifying me,
I'm soothed by this aloof,
Belittling my knowledge of your hard, capricious heart,
Excuse me, please do no harm.

I'm aware of your return,
As you bubble, fizz and simmer inside,
I'm using all my strength,
To fight you, stop you, the brutally invincible,
Excuse me, is this fair?

I frisk in your love,
I frolic in your hate,
I tremble in your fear,
And then I breathe.
Excuse me, it's begun again.

Isn't it funny...

...when you think the something is something else. I'll expand...
Sometimes, I hear a word, or more often a phrase and subconsciously assume that it's spelt a certain way when really it's actually just a homophone of the word.
For example yesterday I realised that the TV channel 'pay-per-view' was just that. However, in my head, for some absurd reason, I'd considered it to be 'paper-view' I thought it was really funny. And just then I realised that the phrase 'make ends meet' was 'meet' and not 'meat' - I geuinely thought the phrase was 'make ends meat'. That's hilarious. How positively silly of me.
I just wanted to tell you, hopefully you found it as amusing as I did.X

'This is the distance and this is my game face'

Looking back upon the sweetness,
Though I know it was sour.
I throbbed beneath my clothes,
But my smile could whisper lies.
Now she is gone.
I cannot see in front of me,
My only view is rear.
So I close my eyes, tighter now,
Till the blood boils and bursts.
I'll trap my tears.
Stop kissing my heart, please,
It just feels too good.
You prick and burn and steal it all,
You are the thief to whom I'm paralysed.
I cannot fight.
Your pernicious beauty permeates,
Swallows my vision, numbs my taste.
I reach into the darkness,
And grasp the fluttering fear.
I'm bleeding water.
Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.
I beg of you, endeavor!
My voice ruptures with desperation.
Save me. Save me. Save me.
By doing nothing at all?
I am numb and losing faith,
Of every second, every day.
Is she worthy? Is she sweet?
Is she worth more to you than me?
Who is she?

I miss you, so.
Chin up.

What is wrong, when nothing is wrong?

My mind is an open book.
So open, that it closed.
Come forward, take a look.

Read the thoughts via eyes.
They'll tell you all I know.
All the truth, all the lies.

But what is the mystery?
The naked orb cannot reveal.
Padlocked by the history.

That's where we'll lay blame.
Because it's been and gone.
But I feel just the bitter-same.

O'where is joy, I pray?
The joy that is outside.
Should it not be the other way?

I'm shaking. I'm weeping.
I'm losing my head.
Where lives the peace of sleeping?

Go wake her, please.
Tell her of me.
Harvest her calm, share her ease.

The power of three.

Sometimes there are no words.
Sometime there are only three.
Sometimes you hold on to those three.
Because they are the only, of which you are certain.
I am certain.

x

Amen?

You love me.
But sometimes you don't show it. You fight.
They love me.
But I don't like how they show it. They fight.
He loves me.
Everyday, he shows it. Look, he's showing it.
With love, not war. So, I see it. Feel it. Try it?
But I am smaller. Younger. Weaker?
I can't tell you, though maybe I should.
Maybe I am the one to say.
But then, it's too late.
You see it yourself, you think I don't know.
I should have told you.
Now I'm in the darkness of my own light.
I leak. Frustration. Contravention.
And I cannot articulate, for I don't understand.
But I do. Yet, I don't.
And then I feel pain.
And then I feel guilt.
And then I feel pity.
And then I feel numb.
So I dance on the rainbow of reality.
For once, she is my peace.
Inside is the storm, outside is the calm.

He is both. Amen?

Ta-da.

'..A very important test is how you act when you can't feel God's presence in your life. Sometimes God intentionally draws back, and we don't sense his closeness.'

Wow.

The naivety of humans never ceases to amaze me. How on earth could I subconciously doubt even slightly, like this?

Well, there is my kick up the bum; it's not about me.
Be led by the holy spirit, not your emotions, right?

Flippin' do that.
Bye.x

Dangerous safety.

Encapsulated in your embrace is my niche.
I am the snail, you are my shell.
I am the baby, you are my blanket.
I am the heart, you are the cage. The rib.
The protection.
And I beat. I pulse. I breathe.
With every breath I inhale a little sparkle.
The twinkle of your zest. Your spirit.
Of which you are not certain.
Though I see deeper than the naked orb.
The peripheral that they see.
And so I know.
That all you are, holds all of me.
So we take care of taking care, whilst longing.
In attempt to express, one moment is satisfied.
Step backwards from the line.
I need your safety. But your safety is dangerous.

Ok.

So, I just read my post from last week back to myself. I think it was a prayer. Yes, it was a prayer. And, hey, it got answered. S'good that, isn't it?
Right now, I feel like I've finally got some clarity. But it's strange, so it feels unnatural as I haven't felt like this in ages! It's good. But strange. That's the only way I can describe it. It's like, how you expect something is going to feel isn't necessarily how it will feel at the time. It doesn't feel like I expected. I over-expected. But in a good way. Because now my faith is glowing. And that's a great thing. And I am happy. I'm content. Wow.
It's a lot, but it's not everything. And I'm glad. Though, I wouldn't have thought I would be. But I am. It's a funny thing.
And it's slightly ironic that the theme of my post is clarity and yet this is probably the most abstract yet, to an outside perspective.
It's quite amusing.x

Blah.

I do not know what to write. However, I do know I want to write. Isn't that annoying?
I have had a lovely week,theoretically. It has been far from what I expected. In a good way. I think.
Shortcuts don't work. Trying to cheat the system leads you back to the start. But I'm not going to dwell in this. This is me being decisive. That's a first. I feel like I say this a lot, but I realllly wish I could articulate the 'blah' in my head, right now.
Time is a healer, but if you sit and do nothing, it will too. You've got to utilise time. Sometimes it's hard for you to do that when you think you'd like to live in tommorow. But tommorow has it's own problems. Not to sound pessimistic, it has loveliness too, but what I think I mean is, you can't leave todays issues to be dealt with tommorow. It may seem like it'll be easier then, but it's like a workload, if you're given a piece of work to do and you leave it till tommorow when you think you'll have more time, you may by then have another piece of work and so in the end you work out having less time for both, pretty much due to procrastination. Which, as I have previously established, is something I am extremely guilty of. You sometimes have to learn the hard way, sometimes it's the only way. It sucks, but at the same time it doesn't.
Please, don't be fooled by my use of second person pronouns, this is, in fact, quite a personal address. It just works better when I read it back, if you understand that?
I think I'm ok now. For why shouldn't I be? Of course, rhetorical. You don't know. I sort of do. God sure does. Simple..kind of.x

This week..

..has been really lovely! And now I'm sat, admiring the sunshine.
This day is a very central day, I feel, so before I was wondering if I would prefer for it to be a week later or a week earlier than it actually is. Either way I wouldn't be so close to next week, if that makes any sense. But I mean, do I want to skip this week or for it to be just further away? Then I just happened to read this poem from a new book that my Mum has just bought, and it answered my question, but it was more like a 'fresh revelation' as oppose to a 'new idea'. I already knew, sometimes you just need to be reminded. I'll just share with you stanza 6 that pretty much sums up the moral:

'Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act - act in the living present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!'

S'good that, isn't it? I know it's only a little Saturday in May, but I'm gonna make today fun, in some way or another. Hey, looks like I may have just talked myself into even more procrastination. It just happens. I can't help it anymore.

I may aswell add one more paragraph now, so as not to seem hyprocritical, haha! I'll expand on my week being 'lovely'. This is what I have done:
On Monday I went to Frederick's Ice cream parlour and then watched 'The Holiday' with my best friend.
On Tuesday I had my pancake making connect group and then went camping - which was so good! Obviously this continued into..
Wednesday, then after we eventually took down the tent, I went to watch another film with my two 'sisters' - 'The Devil Wears Prada'.
Then I spent Thursday at the centre, being slightly musical - always fun, always good company!
And Friday I shopped, only a little, pennies restricted me, of course. And the weather was splendid. And now here I am, and the weather remains.
This pathetic fallacy lark is in tact. Splendid.

One more. Last one, I promise:
I'm appreciating Brooke Fraser more than ever recently, her lyrics are so beautiful. This week the one floating around my head has been:
'You're ruining me with secrets, and gestures, and looks'
How lovely is that? Very lovely. Mmm, lovely ;) X

Chewy, foamy mushrooms..

..are so good, that I believe they deserve to be the main topic of my first 'proper' blog. I suggest you purchase some, from Asda. You've gotta love Asda. Well, I do.
I'm stalling right now, because I should be working. But, oh well. It'll all be over soon. I love that. I'm giddy excited for what is to come, just in general. I hope summer is splendid. I feel like it will be. Let's pray for literal pathetic fallacy then. I'm using literary techniques in juxtaposition with an attitude of aloof for effect. I feel like it's working quite well. Or maybe I just look silly. There's a fine line isn't there?
'Something unusual, something strange, comes from nothing at all'. I like this song, I like that shuffle has selected it for me. Fits my mood. Wow, look at the time. My procrastinating nature has got the better of me, yet again. X