Wednesday, 12 December 2012


You should listen to your cat

when you get home tonight

as it follows you

to the kitchen

as it followed us

up the stairs.

It will watch you squeeze out

food from a pouch


Like it watched us

fuck on your bed


Your cat keeps my secret.


I used your perfume

your brush and

your shower.

I stroked your cat and he purred.

I want that cat to

tell you

what it knows.

I will make it talk.

Tuesday, 27 November 2012


Nights we spent spewing words

Trying to impress

You were my Verdana

before we even met.


Wednesday, 24 October 2012


My new life
without you
makes me wonder
what the old life was for?
why I hung around
in the face of such wrongness
when it was so easy to leave
it took a month
in the end
and I was gone.
I don’t think of you now
but if I stay up all night
sometimes it hurts
not because I miss you
but because 
yet another 
bit of my life
is done.

Sunday, 30 September 2012


I didn’t realise how many words
There were for crazy
Until you went there.

Loco, nuts, bonkers, mad
They all sound like a joke 
but what you did was

not comedy.

I thought of asking your sister
to take you the new
Bright Eyes CD
But god knows if you still like them
or who you are right now.

Is your real self; your real mind
hiding somewhere?

Can we unearth you?

It feels like you’re dead.

you’re just out to lunch.

Sunday, 16 September 2012

Excerpt/ Reflection

You were part of my history
a sticker on a timeline
forever seventeen
drenched in mythology

Ten years later
developed and dated
thawed out and dreamless
Your ageing ages me.

You reside
inside my head
in a box
with all the others.

I’ll take you out and
glorify you periodically
but only if you stay
confined and asleep.

And don’t forget:
the story is all mine
What you remember different;
didn’t happen.

You weren’t meant
to turn out like this,
and I’m ashamed
because neither was I.


Thursday, 2 August 2012


The inflatable flower
that you won for me
the night we met

still sits on the floor in the bedroom
filled with air from your lungs

How can that thin red plastic
hold you even now
eight years on

and six months since
your breath ran out

Today I cracked
and finally pried
the stopper open

I sucked you up
and breathed for the both of us

Afterwards, the flower lay
crippled on the floor
and I wished I'd waited
another day, another month
another year.


Tuesday, 5 June 2012


I was wrong
about falling in
love being about

It’s not.

And fitting together
Is one thing
But I’ve never ‘not’
with a lover.

All people fit
If you hammer hard

So love isn’t that,

Our love is about
light up deities,
pop gods
and seasides.

And how you came
from space to save
did you know that?
The story is
from the way you
tell it.


Thursday, 3 May 2012

Horror film

On my knees
at your feet
with the light
from the camera
in my face

I felt wild.

Watching it back
felt like watching
or a car crash.


Thursday, 1 March 2012


Two years
we kept
two stones
as we stitched
and laced our dream.
Two stones from
Brighton beach.

We pictured
drives along the coast,
healthy living
and a little life
waiting for us
when we got back home.

We got salt,
that much we got.
We filled up buckets
but not with our hands.

Now we ride back to London
Not defeated.

I can still see us
sitting in deckchairs
I can still see the sea from here.


Monday, 6 February 2012

Better off

After you beat her
(not straight after,
but soon after)
My mum left
me with you.

She repeated
like a prayer
how you would never
hurt me
Never lay a finger on me.
I was safe with you.

And I was.

Each month
I would call her
over some
act of non-violence.

A door torn off
A smashed TV
My brothers
but not play fighting:
one throwing the other
down the stairs
one (the same one)
hitting the other with a
baseball bat.

And my dad,
Well, he did his best
Gave me money for the chip shop
and told me mum
loved her new family
that she had new children now.


Monday, 2 January 2012

You are my nicotine patch dream

You came via electro mail

And gave
the crushing drudge

of twenty four
after twenty four
after twenty four

some punctuation.

Before you
I was
chasing a hearto
mainlining sweets
of both kinds

I’m still part
slow motion suicide          

But laughing

Let’s cuckold old age

Who wants to live in bungalows
via panic buttons