Seaside thoughts

At the edge of the sea

I am standing

With wind pulling on my hair

Dragging my mind away from everything

All the pain and all the ease

All the sad and all the happy

All the good and all the bad

This is the point where the tide turns

But am I in the sea swimming

Or am I on the sand basking

Or am I in a room gazing

So many options

So many visions

Twists and turns

Roads that I could take

Roads different, alike and the same

What I write

What i do

What i say

Is like the sun

Sometimes its warm

Sometimes it’s unknown

And sometimes it burns beautiful and fast

How can I understand which feeling is right?

When I am incapable of acting like a bird

And taking on flight

And taking on a life of solitude

I cannot swim

How do I keep from drowning in it all?

- nail-in-the-wall ~ © ~ [23.9.19] (I wrote this a while ago and ngl, its facking beautiful. This is about me finally feeling truly content and happy about life.)

“Theres nothing better than hearing the voice of someone you love.”

- nail-in-the-wall ~ © ~ [22.9.19] (So genuinely happy that ebbs is a musician cos he lives a 100 miles away from me so I wouldnt ever hear his voice otherwise. I’d feel like my best friend was a book character and have to make up a non-descript voice for him which would be weird. Makes me so happy that I can hear my favourite person/best friends voice on demand.)

The map that leads to you

I keep walking past the same places

Thinking of you

In shapes that are in map form

It’s like deja vu

But we’ve never been here before

Not in this view

I feel like I am going in circles

Trying not to think of you

But I am in the same place

That I was a year ago

And I can deny it all I want

But you’ll always be my favourite haunt

And none of these paths

I’ve been walking along

Are nearly as beautiful as I find you

From dusk until dawn

I wish I could find you

I wish I could read your mind too

Cos I cant live split in two

Pretending that I don’t know you

When I already do

Cos just like a map

My mind has been shaped by lines

And I have been twisting

Everything that I could find

Everything I knew to be true

Just to fit into the shape

My heart wanted my mind to

- nail-in-the-wall ~ © ~ [21.9.19] (This poem is about overthinking and how it can ruin relationships. Most of the time my judgement is right. But when i overthink every interaction or missed interaction, that is when it can go wrong. That is what I was doing today, so I wrote this as a reminder.)

“When you meet someone, time splits into two. A before and an after you.”

- nail-in-the-wall ~ © ~ [20.9.19] (I cant contemplate the life I had before I met my best friend Ebbs. I will always love and support him. Today. Tomorrow. Always. At this very moment, that is through his career. So guys, please listen to Carolina Blue by Seb! Its beautiful. Just like him!)

“I am glad you are in my life.”

- nail-in-the-wall ~ © ~ [19.9.19] (So Tumblebees and Tumblebabes, Seb - the muse of this quote - has a song called Carolina Blue out. It’s his second single! Ya should check it out! I’d appreciate it! It’s on the usual streaming places!)

“There are no words, not even in the mind of a writer, to describe you. You are that indescribable. But here I am, writing about you again.”

- nail-in-the-wall ~ © ~ [18.9.19] (This is about Seb - my best friend. He has a single out. Its called Carolina Blue and is on all the usual streaming places. Please check it out! You wont be disappointed! Hes amazing! Musically and generally!)

“I love talking to you. You make everything seem beautiful and you make me feel happy to know you.”

- nail-in-the-wall ~ © ~ [17.9.19] (This is about my best friend Seb. So, my mate Seb released his second single yesterday. Its called Carolina Blue, under the artist name Seb and is uploaded to all the usual streaming platforms. Check it out! Just some great vibes from a genuinely lovely guy!)

Lost in this moment

I felt someone

Touch my heart

But I’m not good with faces

I wouldnt know who you are

I’ve seen a hundred people a day

For the last year

So I’ll lose my mind

Trying to figure out

Where I know you from

And I’m not good with direction

Hand me a map

And I’ll lose myself

With no recollection

Of where I’ve been

I’m lost in myself

Stuck in my head

How could I love someone else

When my heart is broken

I am lost

And I dont know where you’ve gone

But I’ll miss you today

And I’ll miss you till dawn

Wherever have you gone

I’ve never felt as alone

As when I’ve found someone to love

I never buy ornaments

I’m not one for gold

And I’m not one to buy diamonds

But I added you to my collection

Of things I dont mind remembering

And I’ll never forget the end

- nail-in-the-wall ~ © ~ [14/9/19] (Just a thing I wrote whilst listening to a sad song.)

The Ghost of Past Love is haunting me…

I held something perfect

It was all I knew to be worth it

Then it fell from my hands

And I broke it

I loved someone

Till I lost them

To the bad parts of myself

How could I hurt you?

I never meant to

I only wanted to love you

Look what you made me do

I dropped you

Like I forgot you

But I was the one who fell

Truly, madly, deeply

In love with you

Why didnt I tell you

Before I ruined you

I will never understand

These things that I do

When I fall for someone

Like you

But lose myself

In spaces where I’m not with you

- nail-in-the-wall ~ © ~ [12/9/19] (Just wrote a lil something for no reason.)

“The moment I truly felt healed was when I met you. You were balm to me in my time of need.”

- nail-in-the-wall (Muse = Ebbs. Ebbs = my best friend.)

My first chapbook is now available from BatCat Press! Each chap is handmade by the incredible staff at BatCat and features unique (read: badass) dust covers and letterpress hardcovers underneath.

You can order it here

& add it to your Goodreads here

& peruse BatCat’s other almost-too-beautiful books here.

there’s a part of me that believes everyone else feels this too. that everyone feels this splintering, and i am just the one who can’t handle it. 

doesn’t everyone feel this candle-sputtering, wood-rotting decay? doesn’t everyone feel like there is a hurricane rattling in their bones, threatening to shake them apart? how do people live without this ache?

               how do i live with it?

he gift-wraps self-sacrifice and calls it love; he has never known how to love any other way. he has never given his heart in scraps - it has always been laid bare, whole and beating, on the altar.

and how does one love without an altar? how does one love without bleeding?

call him a martyr or call him a hero, but this kind of love always ends the same. he plants a kiss on the cheek of his love, and then plants his blood in the ground at their feet.

— martyr or hero, he has always been a tragedy // p.s.

rant because I irritate myself every dang time I try to write. my goal is not perfection, merely self-expression/creativity. I always forget that.

poem transcript under the cut.

[transcript: “Not everything has to be a new revelation. Sometimes I want to speak in overused metaphors rather than unsolvable riddles.

Sometimes the sun kisses my skin just right and I know people have dedicated a thousand elegies to Her but I want to make it a thousand and one.

Or maybe the sun is my lover, bright and warm just for me, and the comparison has been made too many times but I’m too lovesick to care.

Why should I limit my language just because it has been said a million times before? Why must everything be so new and profound? Is it not enough to love the simplicity of clichés?” [/end transcript]

Love the Sinner, Hate the Sin

poem transcript under the cut

[transcript: “In the evenings, I wash him, cleanse the sins off his skin until he’s mine again. Watch the blood soak the soil and feed the hungry Earth. He is the poor criminal and I the forgiving judge. He is reborn, purified, made a man again.

At night, I take him to Heaven. I have the key to the gates and I let us both in. We are alone there, with no witnesses to judge the sinner’s presence in an angel’s arms.

In the morning, we reach earth again. His skin is no longer bright from yesterday’s cleansing. It is dark and dull again, preparing itself for what it knows will come next. There is no use in cleaning him. Still, I know I will do it again and again.

In the afternoon, I lose him again. The blood dirties his skin once more. He has forgotten yesterday’s ritual. I watch him break my heart once more and still I know I will forgive him for it.

In the evening, I wash him again, make him a man and claim him as my own. I will take him to Heaven once more. I will make him the angel I know him to be. He is not the blood that stains the water or the agonized screams of dying men. He is my angel. Tonight, I will open the gates and I will let him in again. [/end transcript]

poem transcript under the cut

[transcript: “Did he save you when you promised to walk to Jerusalem for him? Did he clean the blood from your wounds and kiss it better?

Weak hands maintain a strong grip on the steering wheel. You mumble a prayer under your breath. You’re not quite sure what you’re even praying for.

Words are muffled by the loud wind whipping in through the open window. It roars through your ears and everything feels wrong, everything’s too much now.

A little squirrel lies dead in the middle of the road, streaking the pavement with an ugly red color. You try to ignore the feeling of dread curling up in your stomach. Who are you if not his?

You begin to wonder how sturdy a steering wheel is. Could he break it with his bare hands

Just like this? Fingers curled around the wheel, jaw clenched, shoulders tense.

He slams on the brakes and the seat belt digs into your shoulder. Are you the passenger or the little squirrel, a lifeless inconvenience?

 Close your eyes and feel the wind whipping at your face. Ignore his outburst and listen to the wind. 

 Let the wind carry you to Jerusalem,

Let your Mother Nature kiss it better.” [/end transcript]

THE KITCHEN STORES AN INFINITE LOVE 

poem transcript under the cut 

[poem transcript: “in the dark of the room / i whisper to you / “you should get some rest, honey / you look tired / like the weight of your father’s expectations / is heavy on your soul.”

i found a love hidden / in a drawer in my kitchen / tucked away like a scared child / that cowers from / its imaginary beasts.

so bring her in, honey / let her join us. 

in the kitchen / past midnight / my arms around your neck / your lips on my cheek / the fridge light bleeding out behind you. 

in this room / god and all that is holy / are on our side / and this love will last / forever. 

in the kitchen / past midnight / the two of us / alone together / always and forever.” [/end transcript]

ON LOVE/HATE AND PAIN/COMFORT 

poem transcript under the cut

[poem transcript] “i. He doesn’t know what it means to be gentle. It’s not his fault, he grew up watching his father’s hands tightening around his mother’s neck, every touch bruised and hurt. But the flowers look so pretty in their vase on the dining room table, don’t you think so, son?

ii. So the blood trickles from your nose but his touch on your cheek is soft and warm and safe. The blood will dry and the bruises will heal, so there’s really no use in crying over spilled milk, is there, darling?

iii. He’ll mumble an apology in your ear soon enough, low and ashamed, voice cracking from the tears threatening to flood the room. He’ll touch you again, slow and soft and kind.There’s an extra apology in that touch, one that says “I’m sorry I’m not this kind to you always. Please don’t leave me.” You’ll forgive him, won’t you, honey?

iv. One of these days, you’ll find the answer is no, no I don’t forgive you. And you’ll ice your own bruises and clean up your own blood and you’ll walk away while you still can, before your tattered body is thrown in a ditch in the middle of nowhere. You’ll find your strength tucked in the back of your closet and put it in your suitcase, you’ll find the value you hold and keep it in your bones as you walk out the door. Because you know you deserve better than that, don’t you, angel?” [/end transcript]

you lie awake at midnight hoping for an answer that’ll never come. the silence claws at your ears, a permanent reminder of its deafening presence. so what if he doesn’t come back, smiling as if he’d never even left your side? they can’t see your bruised ego in the dark.