she's always liked high places.

it's a subconscious thing really,

she doesn't know why, 

but she's always sought them out. 

when she was three, 

she'd climb up the shelves in her closet. 

at seven, 

she discovered the art of climbing trees. 

once she turned nine, 

she figured out how to scale the side of the garden shed,

and so on. 

I guess it's because she's always been rather small.

small and looked down upon and underestimated. 

it felt nice to make people crane their necks to see her.

or maybe it's because she always struggled with the idea of a bigger picture. 

if you can see for miles, 

you can see that things are bigger than your F in history, 

you know? 

perhaps it was just an instinctive thing, 

written into her blood.

but, 

whatever it was, 

it made her happy, 

which is what really matters in the end, 

isn't it? 

A glance,

A blush,

A haphardly-shot selfie.

You never noticed.

A proposal,

A blank expression,

An awkward laugh masked by your own.

You still never noticed.

Late nights spent together,

Long sleeves and trousers meant to cover--

To protect from prying eyes.

Still, you never noticed. 

No, even when your all-encompassing eyes stare

Into my soul, fingers tracing the blend old and new scars;

How could you be so blind -- so unfeeling.

Of course, you never noticed. Why would you.

Maybe I'm just too good a liar. 

Maybe it's just me.

It's all my fault anyway.

Soon I'll drown alone into a sea of ink and tears

And everyone will be none the wiser.

Confused for the half second they pretend to care

A moment of innocent curiosity, soon dropped for more interesting topics.

My legacy will disappear with me

And I just know you'll never notice.

Goodbye. 

Still not sure if it's quite finished... I might do something else

Eggshells 

Whatever happened

To all the bouncy-house walls

Now we're building eggshell castles

In the snow

Somehow in the light and noise

Tough skin was traded for shady ploys

Delicate matrices of air and plaster

Just to hear the satisfying crack

Watch the fractures split our arms

And fault lines line our spines

Spider-web knees crackle

Intent on our clay feet

Grind them down to powder

Till there's nothing left

Nothing left

And we're swept away

Once again dust on empty streets

The slave of changing winds

Ice as thin as eggshells

And I'm a sack of bricks;

You float, a laugh --

You know how this will end. 

I like the way my hair curls after I wash it. 

the way it gets fluffy and light, 

and how my curtains bangs swoop to the side. 

I like the freckles on my cheeks, 

especially the three that trickle down from my eye, 

like the remnants of a tear. 

I like how my otherwise dark eyes, 

turn honey-colored when I face the light. 

I like the gap between my front teeth, 

and the way I laugh,

and the look of my smile, 

and I like the fact that I like these things, 

because I spent too long critizing my reflection in the mirror. 

too long covering my smile, 

too long faking my laugh, 

too long to realize that,  

old habits may die hard, 

but that is because old habits are worth killing.

I stared at my reflection for hours, 

but it was only when I looked away, 

that I really saw myself.  

Ten. 

Words all fall

Like ping pong balls

And thoughts like heavy rain

So frequent they drop

And so subtle

So apart from me

The white noise

Will never disturb your ear

Perhaps when sleep arrives

•••

The wind picks up

Shivers and rain pours 

in broken streams

Thwok

I hurl them harder at the pavement

The howling tempest snatches the sound

Ground becomes perilous with sneering spheres

Slick with desperate rain

The dark is ravenous

•••

As I lay drenched and catching cold

The outside world is swathed in light

Beneath me a sorry puddle of pity

A joke of the ocean inside