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& it's not as though I didn't know most of what I heard. It's just that I needed to hear it.
Being prayed over by one of the preachers, started the healing.
Realisation- My heavenly father steps in where my earthy father walks out.
Nights with christian friends and amazing days at the conference.
Realisation- I'm part of this.
Finding a calling to ministry, visions, healing.
Realisation- I'm CALLED to this.
T.D. Jakes. freed of depression. on my knees weeping, shaking.
Realisation- The doctor doesn't know me, JESUS knows me. I am NOT in trouble.

Marvel youth group, a new term a new day with new leaders.
Get ready world.

she's loosing it she's crumbling

Please, im just so tired.
& the world wont let me go
i'm singing in an empty room
do I still make a sound?

I press my lips to drains
pull me in
please wash my fractured bones
down and away from me
I dont want them anymore..

violence smells of acitane.
Of broken bottles and stale breath
violence smells of a home
thats only a house
it smells like you in the morning.

Im sitting on ashfault
scraping my knees,
on your voice.
And humming to the thrumbing terror
in the kiss of palms in prayer.

Your violating and breaking
my empty heart
and closing doors
you have no right to
whilst I the ever-scared lion
shiver in my sheets.




she's breaking shes falling shes lost it shes lost.
theres a girl screaming at you
and you dont want to hear her.

can't you hear my world breaking?

it's too cold to speak into payphones without trembling. it's one of those nights when the whole world seems to be the colour of smoke. i am screaming even though i know nobody will hear me. i press my face against the window glass and it's cold enough to feel exposed, but not cold enough to want to stop.

it's like the r-rated movie i watched when i was ten years old. i wanted to scream but my own swollen fingers were covering my mouth. now i am pushing two fingers into my mouth like the one time i pressed my palm into the shower drain. i wanted to be sucked in. i wanted to fall out. i wanted to be in a place where it was raining all the time.

time may have made me bonier, but i'm still sitting here with my fingers against the window of the telephone booth and there's a boy standing out in the rain, but he looks happy but i bet he's not. it's been so cold for so long that i now almost enjoy it, because i like knowing that i could leave, but that i never actually do.


i can't stop shaking because i'm so cold and it's impossible to forget the memories of us writing down our pasts on the leaves because we were too afraid to speak. that was the same year i started bruising more easily and autumn seemed twice as long. that was the same year music couldn’t fix anything and i got my first kiss and my only friend first dropped his little sister off at a birthday party and he said he was going to take me out to see the trees but instead he stopped at a hospital because he could no longer handle watching me live my life the way i did. the nurses grabbed me as i kicked and screamed, and even though it was from a distance, i could still see him crying.

i still can't stop shaking and now it's even worse. i put my head on my knees and i close my eyes and i pray to God that i'll black out again and wake up on this cold floor in this cold house and that no one will offer me blankets but that they'll pour their cold skin onto mine because at least that will mean contact. i'm shaking and i'm staring at the end of the road and i'm crying because what if there's nothing on the other side and i'll vanish if i try to cross it? i'm shaking and i'm crying and i'm crying and i'm crying because the world's crying and i don't know how to make it stop.




i need help. cant they hear me?
i tell them i cant do this anymore.
am i the only one at church today, feeling so small?

And she thinks that I'm the one that makes it rain.

There's distance in the air, static between me and the world & that bird? Well I'm sorry but it's dead.

Dawn still brings frost like your eyes, the air's still bitter and cold with bite as strong as any of your words.. and summer seems so very reluctant to break this rudely lingering winter..
There was strong winds last night. Slanted rain wrought with tumbling leaves. And when I woke the dandelions had lost their heads.. one again I was one of them,, just a thin stem with all my hopes and dreams fuzzed around me, ready to blow away at someone's careless mercy.

My minds playing tricks on me, no that wasn't a sliding door, there's no car in my driveway and the lullaby in the back of my thoughts, is most definitely not your voice in my kitchen. Why am I on edge?
i am breaking in the instinct to tell you something beautiful

sunday. Oh god I what I would do for a neverending week of sundays.
Of hope and passion and heartfelt worship. Of renewal. Revival and revolutions.
Of breif reprise before sailing back into six days for them.
I shouldn't complain, my life is not so bad as some, I wake up with dreams of flying.
I soar into my days with beautiful people and moments. With small hours in the evening to be silent with you.
But these days I'm biting my cheeks to keep from talking, my teeth are on edge and my hands are shaking.
I feel the need to escape more and more often and find myself resenting when she tears me back to the here and now, searching for reasurance. No nothings wrong. Nothing I could speak or express.
Nothing I could put a name to.
But deep dark and secret.. something is very very wrong.
I'll dream to angry voices and quiet tears. I'll break to well placed words of rejection.
And I go to sleep everynight knowing full well I am yet to sprout a set of wings..

I'm dehydrated with water in my lungs.
The moon is waxing and waning, with no sign of an end..
to these bitter cold and empty nights..






“i dont want you anymore”

how can one person.
Look at tears, begging, pleading, agony.
And be indifferent.
How can a mother. See her daughter on her knees
and kick her while shes down?

How?
someone please get me out of here..

we're biting the hand..

Sometimes I wonder just what did happen to us..
because honestly it seems impossible that a boy could cause so much damage.
It's like there was a disease in our bone marrow,. Waiting out the day when something would prick it with a needle and we'd all just turn to dust..
but that's a little melodramatic.
And the truth is the way you've changed and the way i've changed are beginning to clash.
So was it just the turning point? Where we both had a fork in our roads and somehow.. for the first time in a long time.. went opposite ways?

Is it wrong for me to bite my tongue when your happy? Because I despise the means?
Is it wrong of you to become hypocritical? On the pretense of assumed judgement?
It is wrong that I'm curling my nerves into knots that rub you up the wrong way? That my heart is beating at a tempo that's two octaves higher and three notes off pleasing you? That my breathing turns the mist, turns to condensation, that you wipe away.. like each breath I take never existed..
not worth a second glance or maybe a small finger to draw a smile in.. remember how we used to?
maybe...

all I know is that it hurts.

When our songs play and it's just my lonely voice in the night.. I never had harmony without yours to guide me. When I hover on "send" with your contemptment leaking from my heart.. when I pray and all I can ever ask for is my best friend, "lord I know she's right here but i've lost her lord I just need her back. Please." When i'm on my knees and dialling your number, just to hang up and moan.. burry my head tell myself I'm fine.
Because you're never there to tell me yourself these days.
and I don't know where you've gone...

these feelings wont go away

She's three hundred shades of cigarette ash, lonely and please-dont-go.

Maybe she'd count the seconds so as not to forget a moment. Standing half-naked and heart deep in your arms she burns like the ocean. Maybe if you wait a little you can make something beautiful out of the rubble in her eyes. Pull it to pieces, build her back up. Is she too much for you?

Maybe she'd take your heart in her hands from thousands of miles away. She wants to know she can do that, maybe she wants to mean something, something invaluable, something that can shake you from half a country away. She's throwing away parts of her heart, sealed in bottles and tossed in the ocean, tittled "things I should have told you."

14th january 2010

I dont want to write,
of the failures anymore.

No one knew her in life,
so no one knew her in death.
A sparrow, a fleeting prayer, a shared grave.
Sweet angel you're gone,
and your scent of life,
has flown from me.

White collar man, speaks words of god,
but I know you can't hear them.
Unformed ears,
broken beating heart.
Not-there lungs take one, empty breath.
Dear sparrow fly back to me.

You were unrhyming poetry,
hope in a dark place.
Built of young sweet love,
barely a chance in this world.
You were, made of coral
breathed in by another,

baby you were hope.