Break Up. (Poem)

Breaking, upwards of the truth-

broken

down

to the grit,

the pieces beneath.

The essence of sadness, combined with

shock and spittle through angst and hatred.

Break, in the utmost foundation;

the line in the undusted,

the crack in the gateway.

Broken

by the bind,

seeping, the cold truth

soaks in

and you wake up,

wet and alone

unknown and blissful,

gone from the grip.

Restart.

Replaced,

Ruined by words.

‘I

think

we

should’,

Break   –   up.

The last time I walked on a night like this… (poem)

The last time I walked on a night like this

you were in your bed, and I journeyed to mine.

One moonlight uniting us,

distance keeping us apart.

The last time I walked on a night like this

I traveled in the dark

whilst you were safe in your bed

unknowing to how my mind raced.

The last time I walked on a night like this

the moon had to guide my path

to stop the darkest thoughts entering.

It protected me when you refused.

The last time I walked on a night like this

you still loved me.

Illusion of a Dance (poem)

He’ll take my hand
and stroll me outside.
We’ll smile at the others
everyone knows what’s to happen.
I shyly glance for strangers,
and check my complexion in the glass.
He’ll straighten his bow tie
and ask me to dance.

But then I’ll wake up from my daze
and smell the vodka on his breath.
The vintage haze will run
and I’ll be left in the cold
with a man I barely know.
People will think me a whore
out with a man, in stupid hope.
 –
He’ll put his hands on my hips
and force me to sway.
I’ll struggle and cry whilst
the observers giggle and tease.
I’ll be stuck with a man I hate
all because he asked me to waltz.
 –
There’s no romance left in the world
only vodka, dollars and the illusion of a dance.