The Rope You’ll Use To Hang Me

[As with another of my songs, this deals with the topic of abuse and domestic violence. If this is a topic that is triggering for you, I’d recommend against reading.

Also, just a heads up for anyone who knows me in real life and may be concerned about the content I write sometimes: my work is not all inspired by close personal experience. I have tried writing mental health poetry about my genuine experiences and it always feels too strange and personal for me to publish online. There are little pieces of truth in a few lines, and the overall feeling it the poem is often experienced by me at some point. But between grief and domestic violence, I am lucky enough to say I have never experienced either.]

 

You’re razors to my forearms
And a rope around my neck
You’re the wounds I keep inflicting
You’re always a step ahead

I post on twitter about my feelings
About the storm tearing me up
And next thing you’re in DMs asking if I’m up

And I hate myself for getting a taxi there.
I hate myself for knowing how I’ll feel the day after
And I hate myself for doing it anyway
And I hate myself in general today

He asks me where I’m going
I feel sick at your address
Your postcode on my lips
And tattooed across my neck

Like the rope you’ll use to hang me
Make it clean just do your best
If you ask if I’m alright with this
Give you a thumbs up and say yes

There’s a word for guys like you
And a word for girls like me
It’s written on the bathroom walls
Of our college and secondary

I wish you didn’t haunt me
And I wish I didn’t like ghosts
But you’re water in my lungs
And God, do I like to choke

But when I turn up
In your favourite black dress

My heart sinks to my stomach
And I fall in love again.

Your words are just so light and kind
Your scent like lemon soap
It’s hard to think you’ve been hitting me
Since we were thirteen years old.

It’s hard to think about the words you called me
A whore, a slut, a cunt
That my dad was right to beat me
That you’re not nasty you’re just blunt

And maybe I deserve it
This broken state of things
Cos I poison boys like berries
With all the pain I bring

And you’re only still here
Cos you built up a tolerance
I’d kill anyone else who knew me
I’m a cancer, a cholera

My tongue is flecked with toxins
And behind my eyes lay sin
You drag me back inside
When I turn and start running

A change of heart just isn’t right
When you got me up at ten
You tidied your apartment
Not that I deserved it then

But I’m gonna get what I came for
In heavy breaths or heavy fists
And so I choose the former
Always have, this always is.

The Prettiest Plot in the Graveyard

[I wrote this as a song, but you can read it as a poem too if you’d like]

 

Maybe a daffodil will grow from the cracks of my skin
Blooming just adjacent to my lips
I hope the buds stay open longer than my eyes
I hope that moss will cover my closed lids.

Bury me between two sturdy tree trunks
A willow or an oak with bluebells there
Crawling up the bark to reach the heavens
In an intimate, a longing kind of prayer

Gardeners will guard my grave like angels
I’ll take dirt stained jackets over wings any day
The clean, bright world above has always scared me
But I know I have to go I cannot stay.

There are things I cannot tell you so let the questions die with me
Don’t wonder why I’m going all too much
I’ve told the answers only to the September wind
Don’t listen to its whistles, feel its touch

Plant roses round my gravestone til you can’t see it anymore
I want to commemorate the living more than me
No one’s ever happy thinking about dead girls
So please hide it – I don’t want the world to see

I want their eyes on nature and on beauty
On the curve of crimson petals and daisy-grass
I may be gone but keep my inch of the world pretty
And through seasons and through years I will last.

The Mess I’m In Now

[I decided to deviate from my usual poetry and write a song instead (well, the lyrics at least.) As I can’t write actual notes or play an instrument you’ll just have to imagine some degree of instrumental in between each verse to account for the rhythm changes]

 

If I could take back time
I’d take all the curse words right out of my mouth
I’d send them down a river
Let the fish eat them like flies
Maybe you’d be sat next to me
And we’d talk like old times

I see your name in gold
And oh it’s rising to the sky
Makes its way through clouds of rain
Up to the gates on high
Do you hear the bells that play up there?
Are they as pretty as you hoped?
Down here the world’s less pretty
Now that I am on my own.

I see regrets before me just in front of my eyes
Oh and I cried at your funeral and the day I learned you died
I want to read that letter but your mum said no
So she’s burning it on Friday and all the words you wrote

There’s so many things that I would do
To see your face again
It’s your smile specifically I miss
I wish you’d dip into my dreams
A pleasant one this time
I don’t much like the bad ones
Oh they stick with me a while