Wednesday 26th March 2014, 9:25am (looking out the window in English)

“I wish for a small time, that I was that duck. Alone, wandering through the damp grass, eating little bits that I find as I go. It looks like such a happy little life living behind those beady eyes and inside that low-hung belly. I wish that I would never know, like that duck, what my backside looks like. The duck doesn’t need to have talent or intelligence or personality, just the simple, animal instinct to sustain its life. It has wings, but chooses not to used them because unlike us humans, it is happy where it is. It would be rather catastrophic if humans were given wings because even the short time I have here to observe this duck is limited, before the everlasting desire to rush away to somewhere else, sweeps us up and away with the ring of a bell.”


dangerous games

Teardrops are so pretty

They bring out my eyes

Sadness is a mystery

And mystery is nice

Who am I without it

Never going back

The game is fun, you kiss the dice

And I like it like that

lily jane

i was only nice to your face

but who finished first in the race?

it wasn’t me in bitterness

it was you, so pretty in your dress

i think back on days in the park

you picked up my peices

as i tore myself apart

chubby legs by the sea

and dinners with our families

a call away, a thrown stone

and letters when i stayed at home

mineral powder and hand-me-downs

california gurls from the crowd

before i painted my life in anon-grey

and pushed my real friends away

hateful words in jealously

when anger got the best of me

sideways glares for no good reason

didn’t know why i was leaving

i never threw another stone

never waved on the drive home

i was to blame for that sour end

(you became my ex-best friend)


your skin was like an open wound

when i knew you last

met you at 8 years old

but all we had was past

we bonded over bitchiness

and black mascara stains

through kisses on lips with older boys

and endless growing pains

i remember slapping you in the face

and you forgiving me

and when i say ‘slapping you in the face’

i mean, like, literally

you thought i was dumb and spoke too much

i thought you were a slut

our bitchiness made us friends

and made our deepest cuts

i didn’t say that i was leaving

i didn’t think you’d care

and then we never spoke again

left 8 years right there

i never saw your braces off

i never saw you cut your hair

i never saw find yourself

and i never thought I’d care



lily rose

you invited him into your room

ordinary afternoon

you fell into it and swimming’s nice

until the water turns to rice

and we never even saw you there

in your sexy underwear

so held together, advised us all

but just like us, you took the fall

under buttons, bit by strange teeth

your skin was warm and rare as meat

four summers on, you’re not in love

and i only see it now

love potion

reach out to me

i know how you think

you took the love potion

and tipped it down the sink


now i wait on you…

why am i waiting on you?

i’d love to speak your words

so you’d feel them like i do


i could say so much

but i refrain

so words worm their way

through the apple of my brain


i keep saying ‘it wont’

because secretly it might

i can’t tell if im broken

or if its just tonight


something so erotic

about red lips, bare shoulder

never imagined you like this

never imagined you getting older

20 beautiful things (add more in the comments)

  1. randomly placed park benches
  2. old signs that have been left to age
  3. views from train windows
  4. plaques
  5. unexpected parks and open green spaces
  6. eating until you are full
  7. saying hello to people while out walking
  8. children singing
  9. seagulls waiting patiently for chips
  10. pets’ happiness when seeing you again
  11. pets waiting patiently for their dinner
  12. cool breezes
  13. easy conversations
  14. a cold drink when you really need one
  15. afternoon sun
  16. waving from the train
  17. patience
  18. cities at night
  19. driving through farmland
  20. comfortable pants