Old Year’s End

I can feel the past slipping away.

My heartstrings are silent. They no longer play.

I was his loving fool, but when he was gone

I found myself broken. I couldn’t be strong.

I cried every day every way everywhere

I couldn’t move on if he wasn’t there

I know that I’m flawed, that I’m selfish and cold

But my heart has been scarred. It’s a hundred years old.

And now it is broken. I drove him away.

At least, that’s what he told me. That’s what they say.

It was my fault he left me. It’s my fault he’s gone.

He was too precious, too perfect to ever belong

With someone like me. Yes, that’s what he said

Before he T-boned his car. And now he is dead.

I hung up the phone on that cold, fateful night

After the blood spilled, after our fight

I begged him to come back, but he ran away

And he haunted my memory every day

I begged forgiveness from God every night

But my dreams were filled with darkness and frights

Even the birds seemed to hide from my eyes

All of the earth found one girl to despise

Because I’d killed another by begging for love

And now he floats with angels in heaven above

And I linger here in this bright ball of flames

Smothered with guilt and consumed with self-blame

But one day I woke up and opened my eyes

To find something strange: I’d woken up blind!

I could see no light, no colours or shapes

Was this some prank, or a horrid mistake?

I called for help soon so I could try to stand

Feeling my way through the dark with my hand

But no one was there to answer my plea

No one responded. There was no one but me.

I lived for ten months in this crippling state

Begging for forgiveness before it was too late

Until one day I woke up, and found I could see

That was when I realised that I’d forgiven me

I had to live in darkness until I could live with myself

To push the guilt aside for something that wasn’t my fault

And thus was how I realised, on a brand new year’s eve

That I could earn forgiveness by first forgiving me

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War Machine

A.N. The words are slow these days, sorry.

You turned my heart into a war machine

Oiled the engines and watched it bleed

Cut it down in the prime of the fight

But it’s resurrected. I’ve come back to life.

You never thought that I could be this strong

But I’ve moulded armour to prove that you’re wrong

And now that’s I’ve started my engines again

I’m coming for you. This is your end.

Twenty Different Ways

The Devil tried to kill me

In twenty different ways

He watched me overnight

He stalked me every day

He came at me with knives

With guns, with hearts, with lies

He came at me with love

And with everything I despise

But I could see right through him

No matter what he tried

And though he tried his hardest

I managed to survive

And now I walk in daylight

And bask beneath the sun

I do not feel his presence

I have learnt to fear no one

My heart is barricaded

And now he can’t get in

And though he tried to kill me

I know he’ll never win

Front Door

The Devil arrives and knocks on my door

Wondering why I will see him no more

I tell him he’s rotten, he’s only bad news

I tell him I’ve had it with his endless abuse

But he doesn’t listen. He waltzes inside,

And starts to spew off a long list of lies

But I’ve had it with him, so I kick him back out

And ignore as he pleads, he screams, and he shouts

I’m sick of his lies. I will see him no more

The closest he’ll come is outside the front door

And I won’t give in. I will stand by my pride

And I’ll watch him struggle, now that he’s on the outside

New Year’s Resolutions

Two parts

to get over myself, to realise

that the world does not revolve

around me, and to put others first

at all times

and two

to realise that i will never be

as smart as my mother

as beautiful as my mother

as kind as my mother

as brave as my mother

and as rich and famous as Taylor Swift

Damn you, Taylor Swift.

The Cream Bottle

A.N. …sorry. 

The Devil had spent all day with the flowers

So when he had finished, he needed a shower

I offered him the chance to quickly use mine

He was only a guest, so I thought it was fine

But I was insane to let him upstairs

And when he had finished, I fell into despair

Because he had performed a despicable deed

He’d entered my cupboard, and stolen my creams!

And now I had nothing to moisten my face

No lotions or powders could ever replace

The sweet-smelling creams that I used to own

But the Devil has taken them, and now calls them his own

I have no idea what he wants them for

Why he took all my creams before he walked out the door

But now I am cream-less, and my skin with be hard

The cracks on my face mirror the ones on my heart

While the Devil has skin like a red carpet model

Thanks to the contents of my beautiful cream bottle

Spoken Holiday Word

A.N. This piece works best as spoken word.

 

So, at holiday gatherings and Christmas parties, everyone always asks that same annoying question, “so how is a beautiful girl like you still single?”

Everyone, that is, except my Auntie Lula. Auntie Lula is cooooonvinced that I have some secret boyfriend — or five — stashed away from the rest of the family. And she thinks of clever ways to trick me. Like counting all the rings in my jewellry drawer and asking me what self-respecting girl buys so many for herself. Or counting the number of times I check my phone and dividing that by three, since three is the maximum number of times one boyfriend should contact you during a family dinner.

So, finally I’d had it with Auntie Lula, and decided to give her a run for her money. The next time Auntie Lula began harping on about boyfriends, I raised my hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, okay, Auntie Lula,” I said. “You caught me.”

“Ah ha!” screeched Auntie Lula, in that ridiculously high-pitched voice. “I knew it! I knew it, knew it, knew it! What’s his name?”

“…Liam,” I said.

“Liam what?”

“Liam…Payne.”

“Payne?” Auntie Lula scrunched her nose, and, for a moment, I feared she actually knew the members of One Direction “What’s that? French? British?”

“Bit of both,” I said.

“How often do you see him?” she asked.

“Not often,” I said. “But I hear from him a lot.”

“What does he sound like?”

“…musical.”

“Is that so? Is he a singer?”

“Ye-e-e-es, but he also does a lot of other things, like playing the guitar and song-writing.”

Auntie Lula clicked her tongue against her teeth. “That’s not honest work. Especially in a man.”

“He does make good money,” I said, in spite of myself.

“Does he, now?” Auntie Lula said, regaining interest. “How much?”

Right then, my phone beeped, relieving me of the need to determine how much Liam Payne was making. “Oh, it’s just my friend.”

“Another one!” Auntie Lula said, properly scandalised. “Another young gentleman friend, perhaps?”

I was already this far in. “Yes. It’s Joe.”

“Joe…?”

“Joe Jonas.”

Auntie Lula squealed. “Oh, you shady girl! Dorothy,” she called to her daughter. “Dorothy, come and hear all about Tessie’s boyfriends. Liam Payne and Joey Jonas!”

From the look on Dorothy’s face, she knew exactly who Liam Payne and ‘Joey Jonas’ were. And she wasn’t the type to keep a secret.

“Hmm, do you smell burning?” I said. “Oh, no! Must be the fruitcake! See ya later, Auntie Lula!” 

Family Schmamily  

It’s Christmas time, and they’re all here

What a way to end the year

All the howling and whining and screaming

Biting and fighting and incessant weeping

All the name-calling and all of the grief

When will this end? I need some relief!

Stupid Aunt Yaz is at it again

Feeding the squirrels cold Cornish Hen

And Aunt Viv is yelling at Pat on the phone

Wondering when he will “get the hell home!”

And all of the cousins are gathered around

Spewing off gossip to make themselves proud

“Oh, I’m CEO.” “Well, I’m MVP.”

“Well, I have a baby. She’s number three!”

I try to escape to my room for some peace

But it’s all in vain. They’re all stalking me!

“Hey, how’s it going?” said mean Mary-Sue

“You’re room really stinks; oh, wait, that’s just you!”

Then terrible Tara jumps on my bed

And says, “It would be better if this were your head!”

So I run back downstairs and find it a mess

The whole place is crazy thanks to our ‘guests’

And I hate them all because they are so mean

But Mum says, “Bear with them. They’re your family.”

Family Schmamily is what I say

Whenever they’re near, it spoils my whole day!

Crazy Aunt Cher is talking to air

The language she uses makes Granny despair

But worst of all’s Maya, who I thought had died

But turns out she hates me, and that’s why she lied

And Mum says “Be nice”, but I say “Who cares?”

I’d much prefer if there was no one else here!

They might be family, but they’re not my friends

They won’t be with me when I’m at my wit’s end

They won’t support me. They’d love to see me fall!

So, now that I know that, why put up with them at all?

I could drive in my car and go far away

And stay there for a while, until the family goes away

But then my mother would be disappointed

Because problems like these cannot be avoided

But I’d really love to –just once! — watch them squirm

Mix up their guts like a can full of worms

I wouldn’t be nice — no, I’d be plain mean!

And give them a taste of the things that I’ve seen

Maybe that’s when they’ll learn to be kind

Kind like my mother, and open their minds

But until that day, I’ll hide under the table

Keep really quiet until I think I’m able

To handle this madness a few minutes more

Or until all of this ‘family’ walks out the front door

A Thousand Candles

She is a thousand candles burning bright

She is the lantern leading me out of the night

She is a well of water in the midst of a drought

In a maze of life’s madness, she shows the way out

She is a fresh shower of rain upon desert sand

She is the first solid ground on which ship-wrecked men stand

She is the angel of God who watches the Earth

She teaches us everything that life can be worth

She is the freshly-bloomed rose on a midsummer’s day

She is the full moon which rises to light up the way

She soars like the birds in the heavens above

She pities the Devil, and tries to teach him to love

I know that she loves me, even if we don’t always agree

I know that, regardless, she’ll be right beside me

She is the queen of perfection, humanity’s biggest lover

She is the light in the darkness, for she is my mother

Pure Gold

At nights I dream that I’m as kind as my mother

She’s a burning star brighter than all the others

She loves the whole world, and her heart is pure gold

She doesn’t care if you’re sick, or you’re poor, or you’re old

She teaches me kindness, but it’s a hard thing to learn

I could be a star, too, but I’d forget when to burn!

I wish I could love the whole world with her kindness and grace

I wish I could capture the compassion etched on her face

Things would be much easier if I’d only look away

Why, if I could do that, I’d be perfect in every way!

I’d be strong and loving. I’d pay no heed or mind

To those who hurt me, slander me, or harshly bruise my pride

But I’m not perfect, I’m not she who loves the world twice over

I’m a pebble blown away, while she stands like a tall boulder

And people love her and love me because I am her daughter

But I’m just the daughter of a star. My flames are quenched with water.

And I can’t turn the other cheek. I’m too much of a coward

My love is something weak and fleeting that my rage overpowers

So I look up at my mother, and revel in her light

The way she lights up the whole sky, with flames which burn so bright

They way she loves me through the night, even when I despair

The way that I know that she’s with me, always will be there