Uni

chef ambitions
at 8 years old
crushing custard creams
in my gran's kitchen
and naming it
my 'masterpiece.'

11 years later
and i still can't fucking cook.
juggling microwave meals
and pasta's on the menu
more than 3 times a week

Cardboard Boxes

blue tac stains
on bare walls
and faint red wine
on the carpet

it's that time of year again
when you peel off the posters
and fold your life
into cardboard boxes

clambering across
mountains of clothing
and discovering
old treasures
and memories

feeling more wise
as the years fly by
and realising
how much things have changed

cardboard boxes
have taken over my life.

Salt

i found your letters yesterday
in that little wooden box
we bought by the seaside
remember?

the letters you sent
when we were madly in love

selfish

and carefree

the back of my wardrobe
is a place i rarely visit
and as i rummaged
my carpet became an ocean
of old treasures

i swam through the ocean for a while
soaking up the memories
on my bedroom floor

but sharp teeth bite at my flesh
in these shark infested waters

old photos and keepsakes
bringing back nostalgic blues
and salty tears

i soak up the ocean into bin bags
so they're probably in a derelict wasteland now
where they belong.

Eyelash Wishes

you laugh
you blink
and an eyelash
falls
and dances across your cheek

i brush it with my hand
and it clings to my fingertip.
i hold it against your soft lips
and whisper
'make a wish'

so you blow upon the eyelash
and it flutters away
across the bedroom


i always wondered what you wished for.

Love Notes

love notes left on carpets,
the ink and memories
trodden from paper to floor.

as each footstep taken
erases each word and emotion
as if nothing ever existed.

From the City to the Sea

i visited my old house today.
the old orange bricked house
with the old willow tree in the front garden
amongst the overgrown jungle.
with flowers bursting out of the soil
underneath the window panes.
it was sad to see it there abandoned, unloved.
but it was loved once.
when we were running through the hallways
smiling, laughing, screaming.
cycling up and down the driveway,
falling over,
grazing our kneecaps and crying for mum.

8 years later
and i'm sipping tea from disney cups,
pouring ink across lined paper,
travelling hundreds of miles up and down the country
from the city to the sea.

Saturday

raindrops dance on window panes
and leaves crawl across pavements,
synchronizing with the wind.

a dark cloud looms over the navy sky
covering the tiny diamonds
which have blossomed through the night.

morning's almost here as the night fades
and pinks and oranges spread over the horizon
as sunrise makes an appearance

and the birds sing
telling the world to open their eyelids
and wake from their dreams.