To whom it may concern.

'No matter how crazy my life gets, I know you'll be there. And when it's your turn to lose it, you can count on me'

And now I see (no I always saw)

Now I accept where I must go,

What I must seek (other than He)

Because I've always known that 

I cannot be who [name] wants 

Until I am who I want (and He).

And you (you know exactly who you are)

If you are reading this (hypocrite)

Trying to work out what I'm thinking,

Then here it is,

I'll spell it out for you:

H.O.W. D.A.R.E. Y.O.U.

I could sabotage (I repeat) this if I so wanted to

(I don't want to. Hi, do you even remember me?)

With the secrets and the truth 

('the darkest things that we don't like to talk about')

Get off your high horse. It doesn't suit you, sir.

The late night drives,

the letters,

the emails, 

the confessions,

the 'chin up's...

But at least now I'm started to believe this.

Because you would never have done this.

Shown me this little respect...

Wait.

That's ridiculous. Where do I start? 

White wine + iPhone =

I miss you.
Please say something tomorrow.
I know I certainly will.
It's the reason I've been drinking white wine tonight.
I don't like white wine.
But I think it makes me ok.
I'm not ok.
I miss you.

Ivory Tower.

It's not her fault she's in an ivory tower,
But when I listen to her voice
I can't help but look up at the pearly dew
And the rainbows of faith
Personified in her being.
She has provoked this in me.

'There is a knock at the door, she wonders - How much more? I am more than property.'


I'll let you in to a little secret...
When I was walking away this evening,
Without your eyes following me,
I said: 
It's almost been a year and he still doesn't really look at me.
And you see, you know me,
I can't help but wonder - why?


'She is not just a stranger'


It's silly to think this is still just a season,
But the plan that I made in the dusty 
Cricks of my crux almost the 365 ago,
I am now afraid of.
I told myself to 365 this and then breathe.
But I'm choking on the fluffy stuff.


'I'm falling into your arms. I'm falling into the ocean of you. And I'm not coming up for air anytime soon'

Or. Sorry!

Hamlet:
I did love you once.

Ophelia:
Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.

Hamlet:
You should not have believ'd me, for virtue cannot so
inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it. I lov'd you not.

Ophelia:
I was the more deceiv'd.

Hamlet:
Get thee to a nunn'ry, why woulds't thou be a breeder of
sinners?

I think you might think I'm with him.
But I'm not with him because I'm still with you.
In my tiny brain.

Darling, you are the only exception.

N.b. (This is like a footnote but at te top...so a head note?) I wrote this on SWs day and if moved me to read it back again. It's raw. Sorry.

No, I take that last word back. Here you go:

It's only when I speak that I know what is going on in my head.
Isn't it strange?
I have to say it to the world, or to the or out of this world, to realise it.
That's why I've stopped talking about you.
Because if I don't say it, apparently, I don't feel it.

So I'm not gonna say the phrase 'Mr and Mrs [you know what] chilled me.
I'm not gonna say that I realised that's not me. At least, not anymore.
That I thought that was my fate. Destiny. Goal.
That I should have been there, not the empty bed.

I hope you slept well.

If you could see my playlist...

You said move on - where do I go?
I don't know how I can do without.
When I'm with him, I am thinking of you.
Wishing you'd come sweeping in
The way you did before.
How I wish that I was looking into your eyes.
You're my best, so, yes, I do regret.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?
For me it happens all the time.
I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.
Please bust through the door and
Take me away.
In your eyes I want to stay.
Keep in love with me or fall back and save me.

Welcome back to Wednesday.

Crispy little lexis falling from fingertips,
Because it's deemed dangerous if the
Tongue gets too involved.
Then it's been processed, oh yes,
Frilly and meak in a bloodless massacre
Of denial and wonderment;
Is it still love if you take away the title?
If you're truly fighting against it this time?
But still I ponder, if I'm still fonder,
If I'd still wander if your index curled at
Me. You hear little lexis even if I don't
Share it with the molecules of the earth,
You faddy young man of blue and white,
At least for tonight, with brown toes and
No looking glass to hide your face,
I fear I am in the same place,
The same place where I have resided
For many a year gone by, only now
I tell myself that you're floral aura has
No power, you flower of peachy black.
Where am I?
You're losing the reception.
The sound crackles.
The picture blurs.
I made sure of it this time.
I am frightened.