there’s that slow, perfect kind of lilt to the week, i’d say. it’s going at a pace i can ignore at leisure and then tune back into when it takes my fancy, in a take it or leave it kind of way. smooth, and pretty.

you’ve got the grip but misunderstand
how anything stays in the gentle cage,
what it is, and why your hands are home.
you’re one for the answers
unaware of a beautiful uncaring for them
and simple appreciation: how
this formed and kept the content warm
asks nothing, but hopes
all you unconsciously give is always enough

x

when people say that they’ve got something they hold onto, is it positive or negative, or a mix? i hold onto a lot of things that i want to drop like i’ve been burned (and i have) but it’s easy to tell yourself and harder to get the neurones firing that unclasp your hands than you’d expect. sometimes, though…

you underestimate my investment
i held you through the dark,
when tripping up was new
because everyone has their cane
hidden slightly from your view
they watch you shake and stammer
and know they’ve got their girl
except you’re mine; no ‘if that’s fine’
steady through the streets
until, sometime before suntime, you walk the line

xo

i quickpressed this, so there’s probably some errors. the formatting is always a bit funky on this.

but the big screen kind of overwhelms me and i haven’t been able to write for a while, so here goes:

overlapping the rhythm of script
i like to improvise; sometimes
you work with me
we get a good thing going by slowing the old one down
easy pace, testing the taste
switching it up when the novelty fades
sweetness that ices our eyes shut
(we forget what we know to enjoy what we don’t)

xo

i think. i think all the time.

i came up with this because i know i do this. have done this. try not to do this.

it’s a constant process of filtration. trying to fit everything together until i find a combination that works. trial and error method, of commitment then detox. relapsing. i work in waves (hello and goodbye), of rises in amplitude (arguing, pleading hysterically) and increasing frequency (until i’ve learnt this properly, we go over it, again)

i’ve only not done this about once. i lost my chance there-so, sticking with what works.

i know just how to wind you up
watch you twist around
and then around three in the morning
pick you up from lost and found

cause lovely, i’m frustrating
and you’ll never be too far gone
from week to week you’ll settle
but your score goes back to none

i’m a needy kind of girl, understand
be close so i can push you away
to be roped back in and start over, again
stipulating when you should stay

i like to keep the script fresh
changing sheets, writing lines for you

xo

that’s right, a capitalised title. can you feel the importance?

i keep having these dreams, and i’m not a fab believer in dreams but they’re scarily clear. therefore:

mister blue eyes, you love me
and i don’t know why you’re around
but somehow when we get to talk
i know what i’m about
a frankenstein kind of boy
here to tell me what’s in front of me
how to get it and keep it
but if you were perfect, you’d know:
i’m all about complication.

xo

i have managed to update amongst all the mentalism:

you don’t waste your words;
mastering the comfortable silence
one beat at a time, half-smiling
but with the full intention-
understated being underrated,
bright and big over dim and small
and completely appreciating
with a simple lipcurve and soft grip
the truth in ease, teaching the rest of the world
who care to slam the brakes and find you

x

more things:

for tomorrow, just watch other people rushing around for five minutes. it’s simply gorgeous.

don’t overanalyse yourself. sure, we all want to get to our scummy nasty core and fix it up, but it won’t do you any actual good at a fast pace.

the best words are the shortest ones. the silliest are the longest.

i’m rather the queen of serene tonight.

ps:

listening to: the futile by say anything
from album: …is a real boy

this blog is now goin’ all over the place-if you’re reading from Facebook, hello! if you’re coming from Tumblr, hello again! and a big hello to the usual readers, course.

i plan on keeping this up, my coursework madness is almost over and things are looking good. also, i’m in love with mashup songs.

i had something a while ago & i lost it, but i’ll track it down
for now, have a silly little thing:

ampersands connect the hands
that fit the best together
don’t need boring matching bands
’cause in some way, we’re forever.

xo

ps: listening to – i like it rough by lady gaga
from album: the fame

more relationship giggles: i work in words but what happens when you run out of them? perhaps that’s why i remember our hours, your birthday, perhaps it’s why i’ll save the date, if we’re still you&me.

having a good memory does not mean being you remember good things.

i got into that place that makes you write on impulse around 1am, so this came out and i liked it. a lot of things i write recently end up like this, but i think it works.

also, i know, hardly anything i do is titled. i dont like titles much, unless its appropriate to do so, so just consider the first line the title.

i only know your eyes, how they closed
and refocused, hooded and lit up,
laughing and smoked over
how they widened under scrutiny
and relaxed when you got back to our reality
the way you waited for me to come
over, found me in the crowd
where the capacity was overfilled
the way you slung out the small talk
and clasped with even pressure
my hands and my hips, in that order
took your time building up to
the major veins, the crux of the matter

that became the issue, that became the norm

xo

ps: you don’t have to be suave to be sexy. fall over sometimes.

some fun news to report before i actually get onto writing:
the LGBT support group i’m proposing is being looked into by a dude on my student council, who is class for helping me out. it looks like we might actually be doing something with this! i’m pretty pleased.

anyway, this is something small. i couldn’t sleep on valentines.

dirty mistress with everything to hide,
nothing to lose, they meet up on the sly
discussing “stuff” in no particular detail
except the finest layer of undertone
whilst everyone seems to be watching
and His messages are typed under the desk
where He wears his suit and tie perfectly,
His pastel colours contrast with the black
of their first meeting. dirty mistress dresses down
to stay in the memory for both of them
waiting for the cut off point He has to make
the deadlines He has, the commitment He should want
but it won’t come: dirty mistress and Him
two tangents attracted by animal magnetism
sweat and small talk, enjoy their game.

xx