Friend Of Mine

It’s funny how we change
Funny, and rather strange
Although staring right at you
I don’t recall your face

You speak like you know me
And fool others with your lies
Remember all those years back when
I called you ‘friend of mine’ ?

Awkward fills the gap now
Where laughter once roamed free
But I can’t stand the sight of you
And you no longer me.

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Fine China

You helped me up from the ground where I thought I would lay forever, made me realise that not all was lost. I saw how much you wanted me, but appreciated that you didn’t need me. I was broken when you found me, like a china doll in a charity shop – but you saw past my mangled hair and cracked eyes, you didn’t mind that I was tired and had nothing exciting left to offer the world. You made it your mission to show me how I deserved to be treated, you took me out and taught me all the things about the world I had forgotten; love, fun, laughter and inner peace.

You have to remember that even the strongest of super glue sometimes does not fix deepest of cracks in fine china. When something delicate has been broken it takes more than someone’s love to mend, and the glue doesn’t always hold.

You gave everything and more to me when I was down, but you can’t fix me. I need to fix myself, now I remember what life can be I need to remember who I can be. For that I need nobody else, and sometimes the pressure we put ourselves under in the name of loving another is too heavy for such fine material, and it begins to crack again.

I’m beyond grateful for you, I will forever be in debt to you for taking the time to try and mend me. You never asked for anything in return, I just wish I had something to give you other than my broken pieces, for broken pieces can cause more harm in the long run. No matter how pretty they seem.

Now I’ve been shown the path I have to walk it, but in order to mend I have to walk it with my own feet and can’t have you carry me. I hope that you understand, and I’m sorry if my jagged edges ever cut you whilst you tried your best to piece them back together again. If you look hard enough one day you will bump into me but this time walking along my road, a real girl – made of flesh and blood. Not the fragile doll you found that day.

Force

I used to think it strange how I couldn’t be forced to feel,
Until I realised;
You don’t force a flower to bloom quicker,
A bird to fly higher,
The same way you cannot force a wound to heal.

Let it be,
All good things come to those who wait.

How Valuable Is The Alphabet?

Words can be very powerful things, they can spark a riot and settle a soul all in the time it takes to have a conversation. What we fail to realise is the value of words depends solely on the person who speaks them – the words themselves mean very little. Promises are cheap, especially if they are given to you and then snatched back from under your nose at a later date, ‘I Love You’ is probably one of my least favourite combination of words. It can make you feel on top of the world one day, yet haunt you the next.

I’m a sceptical person at the best of times and I’ve come to realise that I don’t take comfort in words of reassurance anymore. More often than not I’ve been let down by the jumble of sounds that echo from a persons mouth, they say that there is only so many times you can kick a puppy before it bites back. In my mind actions really do speak louder than words; don’t bother wasting your breath on reassuring me that you will never hurt me – just don’t do it. Do not promise me that we will be friends forever when you don’t know what forever may hold. In my experience time does heal, but time can also rip apart the strongest of relationships right from the very seams.

Never tell me you love me, show me. I don’t want you to look upon me gooey eyed over a candle lit meal when I’ve spent hours doing my hair, and confess what you believe to be your true feelings for me at that time. I can guarantee that every time the first time somebody has said ‘I love you’ to their recent squeeze has been in moments of joy, looking at the relationship through rose tinted glasses, yet to experience any times of trouble or tests of patience… What happens when the fog of infatuation clears and what’s left standing in front of you doesn’t seem so pretty anymore? Do those words still mean what they meant the first time?

Marilyn Monroe is famously quoted ‘… If you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best’, and this I have to agree with. Too many times we are promised the world and stars, reassured that we are loved and cared for, but in reality when the dust settles these words come to mean very little. If you love me then be there when I need you, care for me when I am down and help me up when I fall. Don’t waste your words on me, no matter how precious you consider them they are of no value to my ears or mind.

Words are cheap, the biggest thing you can say is ”elephant!’‘ – Charlie Chaplin

Listen

There comes a time when we have to stop talking with our hearts,
That time is when we realise the person listens with nothing but their ears,
But how do we stop our hearts from speaking?
And learn to let only our mouths make the noise?
For nothing is louder than a heart spilling words, when they’re falling upon deaf ears.

Don’t Look Back In Anger

That moment when it clicks.
I heard that it feels like a lightbulb moment, and it does!

You realise that it wasn’t time wasted, it was time spent learning a lesson. I think I’ve learnt more about lessons in love from the bottoms of wine bottles and through words of tragic love songs (written by even more tragic singers) than I have the real thing. Why do we do it to ourselves? Night after night; the crying, the longing, the replaying every scenario in your head’ing? What if’ing? Writing poems that we feel are bleeding from our hearts, when in reality are just making ourselves sound as tragic as the various songs that, curtesy of the late Whitney, dribble from our lonely stereos.

Speaking from recent exposure to this ludicrous behaviour, I felt the need to explain the secret of escaping from this cycle of cyber stalking, bunny boiling, snot covered trap. You won’t find the secret on the Amy Winehouse CD you’ve got playing in the background, and you certainly won’t find it in the two bottles of merlot you’re about to sink. The secret?… Be happy.

It’s hard see the positives if you can barely see over the rim of your ikea wine glass. They are there though. Fill your vision with the people that make you happy (if only the person that’s missing has the ability to make you happy I would seriously suggest you get out more). Replace the Wino CD with the sound of laughter, surround yourself with your friends – and I’m not talking people that just want to latch on to your heartbreak and push you towards sleeping with all the frogs in the hope that you will eventually bed your prince, but the ones who are STILL listening to you drone on about how much you loved him. The ones who listen to your sober stalking stories and don’t think you’re crazy. The ones who’ve taken your intoxicated phone calls at 3am and listened to you sob. You need those guys.

After the initial stages of heartbreak you reach the point where you actually feel relieved. Once the longing and the anger have left your system you’re left with a feeling that I can only compare to sympathy – for the one you wanted to marry, then kill all in the space of a month. You still care, but you have no time left to spend hoping that they care about you, there’s no longing left as how could you want someone that could walk away from you so easily? You smile at them and you will talk to them again, but now you don’t need to. You realise you are stronger because you believed in them, you believed in working for something that you loved – it’s admirable how much you wanted something. Seeing it as a weakness is not an option anymore, quite frankly ‘they ain’t shit’. And they will have to spend the rest of their lives knowing that they gave up on someone that never would have given up on them.

We accept the love we think we deserve” – (Steven Chbosky)

What we accept in life is what we feel we deserve, not only in love but in everything. The real lightbulb moment in any situation is the realisation that we deserve far more than we had previously led ourselves to believe -therefore surround yourself with those who want the best for you. The ones who want to drag you from your tragic little hole and have the ability to make you feel good about yourself, they are there. And if you can’t see them, you’re just not looking. Nothing is a waste of time unless you do not learn from it, it is important to remember not to let others wear the mistakes of those who hurt you.

It’s time to be happy and fall inlove with what you deserve.

Lamps

I drive past your house sometimes,
In the hope I’ll see your light on,
How can I feel so close to you looking up?

I’ll never knock, or call your phone,
I don’t want to be a bother,
I just wish you could feel how it felt to be left out here alone.

Click

That moment when it clicks. They say that it’s like a lightbulb, when you realise that they were no good from the start. But what happens when it doesn’t click? It’s like being sat in a dark room waiting for somebody to flick that switch, to shine the light on all the reasons why you’re better off without them. They say that when it clicks you feel a new lease of life, a ‘screw you’ attitude, determined to show the world you were always better off without them.

The truth is no matter how much someone else shines their light on the imperfections, you don’t listen. They don’t know them like you do, they weren’t there when you saw them cry. They don’t understand because they didn’t know the half. You want to shine your own light on the imperfections but it’s overshadowed by your love for that one person, so you sit alone blind and in the dark. Just wishing you could flick that switch.

That moment when you hear them laugh, see them smile and realise that they are happy now without you. That laugh isn’t the same anymore, it means nothing now. It used to mean so much, like their smile and their eyes. But now it’s like you’re staring at a stranger, and all you think is ‘what have you done with the person that I once knew’. I don’t know you anymore.

You want to hate them for leaving you when you needed them the most, you want to hurt them like they hurt you. To make them understand how it feels to be thrown away. But you can’t, because you don’t wish what you feel upon anybody. If you could only hate them it wouldn’t hurt so much. You could be angry and move on. If only you could explain to them that you still care. But they don’t want to listen, they don’t want you. He doesn’t want you.

So I sit. Waiting for that click. I hope it clicks soon. I’m tired, so tired.