Feeding the Ghosts

Feeding the Ghosts

Dear my demons,

it’s me again

just a quick note

as since we last spoke

I’ve done some more thinking

and I’ve come to see

that the one blocking

the door to your exit

is me.

See, I’ve left it wide open

but inside my head

is a maze

that I built

in the hope

to avoid your gazes

but instead

of keeping me safe

we’re both lost in here too,

stubbornly refusing to move.

And I’ve learnt

that you won’t go

if you’re asked,

I’ve tried being polite,

I’ve tried casting spells

or blasting you with a couple of good days

till I’m screaming at you to fuck off

and it’s me that’s got the headache.

Because I’m screaming at me,

your presence is me,

you come from me,

you’re the parts of me

I’ve decided are too painful

to be part of me

because I don’t want you

in here [mind] feeding this [heart].

But whilst you’re still my enemy

we’re all starving of something

so maybe it’s time I listened

to what you’ve got to say

and do something less predictable

and ask you to stay.

I’m not saying we’ll be friends here

this just isn’t worth the fight

and I might as well

get to know you

if you’re planning on popping in

through every hard time in my life.

And you’re pretty fucking persistent at that,

and maybe that’s something important,

like how I don’t give you enough credit

for still dropping by

and coming to see me

when no matter how hard you try

to pass a message onto me

all I do is my best

to ignore you,

I mean,

that’s a pretty shit job.

Look, I don’t think

I’ll get this right first time,

I’m still trying to come to terms

with the fact that you’re mine

and it’s pretty hard to face you

when all I’ve done is wanted you gone,

but in the spirit

of trying to love

every part of myself,

whilst I grab us a slice of cake

do you mind putting the kettle on?

Reclaiming your Carte Blanche

Reclaiming your Carte Blanche

Give into

the feel of his hands

the touch of his lips

as they brush against your skin.

Give into

the love that your self

wants to give to you.

Sometimes giving in

is not about accepting defeat,

but embracing the goodness of something

that can give your power back to you.

Give into it.

War and Peace

War and Peace

No one else glimpses him in the shadows

at the end of your bed

when you are trying to sleep.

No one else hears the screeching panic

heart pounding in your ears

when someone gets too close to feel comfortable.

No one else feels your skin crawl

as he claws at your hair

clammy hands nowhere, then all at once.

No one else smells his sweat

how it rubbed against your skin,

how it lingers.

No one else tastes the dry mouth

the fear

the residue.

No one else knows the innermost battles

of the mind’s armed conflict with itself.

Then they wonder

why you’re tired

but can’t sleep

why you have no energy

but don’t eat

why you just had a bath

but run another

why you’re home alone

but don’t want company

why you fell in love

but don’t want to be touched.

Call it what you want.

To me, it’s a love story,

between a mind and body

learning how to build and rebuild their home in each other

until, in the end, they make peace.