Focus.

It was all about perspective.

That was what she convinced herself at least. She wasn't sick if she didn't allow herself to be. Focus outwards, fix other people - and the good that came from that would flow back to her in a rush of self-medicating bliss.

But she slipped occasionally. Became mired down in how she felt, at first to try and fix herself. She would pick apart her brain until she had an answer to why she was that way, but she only became more tangled in the problems, until she resolved to give up on the task.

Focusing inward seemed selfish. A waste of time. Nothing was wrong if she didn't give in to it. Feelings were chemical and could easily be changed given enough determination. Actions were the things she needed to keep control over. So long as she maintained who she had painted herself up to be - she was fine.

Fine. She could be fine if she tried hard. And every so often she would bounce back up, have a really great day. Be happy over small things, be organised, go to sleep excited.

But perhaps she should have focused on herself...

Falling Apart (Part 2)

He works a needle through my skin -
and threads me back together.

Sand pours back into my bones,
grain by grain.
until I remember how to sew a smile.

But my material is stretched and cheap...
and i can't help falling apart around him.

Falling Apart (Part 1)

i am trapped in a bath that's gone cold.

Unwilling to get out,
knowing that i should.
Splashing in sadness i wallow like a creature
that must live here.

Water creeps into my ears until
my mind is treading memories.
It wants to unpick my soggy stitches,
until my material freys and tears apart
and sand leaks out of me until i fall flat.

i want to be alone and unloved and undone.

How Quiet The World Was - Pantoum

Before the dawn I stood,

tracing frost on a window pane.

Chill creeping in through coat sleeves,

how quiet the world was.

Tracing frost on a window pane,

silence unbroken by birds.

How quiet the world was,

when covered with blankets of cloud.

Silence unbroken by birds,

freezing in foreign headlights.

When covered with blankets of cloud,

I waited for life to start.

Freezing in foreign headlights,

surrounded by crisp silence.

I waited for life to start,

and I wondered if I was alone.

Surrounded by crisp silence,

chill creeping in through coat sleeves,

I wondered if I was alone,

when before the dawn I stood.

Green Light

The ring sat on the table between the two of them. Caught in a patch of sunlight that streamed through the café window, it cast tiny green patterns across the bleached wood.

The smell of strong coffee and old books, two scents that both of them had once agreed were the epitome of comfort, was now slightly spoiled by the tension that was brewing at their corner table, beside the window.

The passers-by couldn’t have known that when they curiously glanced in through the café’s street level windows, they were witnessing two lives caught in a crucial moment. They only saw a pretty girl with black locks masking her eyes and a clean shaven man staring nervously at the mug in his hands.

Hourglass - Sonnet

We are seduced by sand, promising time,

enthralled by each other, yet unsure of

how long we will have left together, I'm

uncertain. Time plays us for fools in love.

When seconds stretch too far for us, akin

to hours, gifting minutes, time to tell you

of the shatter glass that ruptures my skin,

when you pack yourself away, ready to

turn the glass back over. Start time again.

Count minutes on your journey back, for me.

Constraints broken, no obligation, when

you have been released from my cage, breathe free.

But say you’ll miss me even so, I will

return the thought, when I have time to kill.

Balloon Boy - Flash Fiction

Balloon Boy seemed to live his life on helium. His mind was light and soared to the vast expanse of a sky filled with impossibilities.

Balloon Boy was cheerful. Brightening any day that he seemed to float into, drifting across conversations until he found one that needed a little surprise happiness.

Balloon Boy was adventurous. Wandering to places he should not go, places his happy heart wasn't appreciated. Trying to illuminate the grimiest streets with his fluorescent joy.

Balloon Boy was wonderful.

Until someone burst him.