My oldest enemy

My old best friend, always under the surface
now stands beside me with a smile on their face,
my oldest enemy,
my lifelong ally,
I feel so much for you
but you feel nothing for me.
You don’t care when you tear me apart,
on those afternoons when you’re all
I can think of,
when my dreams are filled with nothing but you
and the control you gave
the promises you made
the body you betrayed.

I hate you, I love you
I need you, it disgusts me,
my reliance on you,
always one step away
you pull my strings once more.

I never let go,
my secret friend.

(c) 2008


If you could see me now

Tonight I considered
it might all fall apart.

Something so fragile,
weaker than I’d forced myself to believe.

Blankets wet with nineteen days of tears,
mind racing with self-constructed fears,
the smell of ash
and taste of sleeping pills
… anything but the old ways to get me through.

And I wonder if you realise
how hard this was for me tonight?

How I buried myself under chemical calm
so I wouldn’t let the beast take over,
the monster I’d created.

Pushing at me,
pulling me,
willing me,
but I won’t do it.

Tonight, I saw how weak I still am
and a strength I didn’t know I had.

Skin untouched,
tears wiped away,
the empty corner.

I won’t stand vigil tonight.

And perhaps, maybe I won’t sleep,
perhaps I’ll let the tears fall,
but I won’t turn back.

Stars in the sky go unwatched as I lie here,
but refusing to give in.

And I wish you could see me,
I wish you could know how hard this was for me.

Tonight, I considered I took on too much,
I tried too hard and it’s so easy to lose,
this went further than any game
and I realise now I’m the only one playing.

I prayed tonight,
I asked for strength,
I wrote words which made no sense,
I ignored the voice,
I denied the urge,
I wish you saw,
I wish you heard.

I don’t know what you think of me,
and I’m scared to speak these words out loud.

Tonight, I saw how I’m still the enemy,
but I didn’t give in.

Tonight, I considered that if the world could see,
next time might be easier.

(c) 2008.


The Perfect Poet Award week 47

Love Story

was a myth I never quite

was a lie, a few
empty words.

was a story I wrote
for you,
and you took it away
so easily.

I turn the pages
but you changed the ending.

(c) 2008.

Promising Poets Café