Inspiration from Cosmo

Someone’s telling me how to dress again

They say my boyfriend doesn’t like the way I do my hair

Or the clothes I wear

And that my skin isn’t quite right

Too oily, too dry

That I have to buy something new

To make me look like you?

They’re teaching me how to get my best angle

To make my bum look bigger

And my waist smaller

And they’re telling me I’m not good enough

And that I need to change

So that the person who I thought already loved me

Can love me again

Girls and boy

I was at the same time the best

and the worst

 

I felt myself torn apart

My bottom half was theirs

and my top was his

and he would stroke my hair

whilst they dug their nails

into the skin around my ankles

and in the moment when I’d look up

and see him staring down

I’d feel that wordless adoration

before their claws once more

plucked my toenails from my feet

and crawled up my legs

used knives to scar me

each one on each

 

So I found it hard to balance

with such a mess at my feet

Maybe I had to give up that part of me for him

 

I would give up anything for him.

Monday

Another sun

Or maybe the same

Wakes us early

And forces us to change

Again

But remain very much the same

And hustle into another car

Which gives good news

Exciting scary news.

 

Us three

Walk down past ruined castles

And beaches

And talk about each other

And laugh about each other

And queue for something

Very much worth queuing for.

 

Home again

To spend

Another never-ending night

Talking about

How amazing it has been

And I think

How strange it is

That your thoughts are mine

And I cannot wait to wake up

Tomorrow (and for many more tomorrows)

In a good mood

‘I think it might be your fault’

Sunday

Another morning is ours

And waiting

When we open our eyes

To sweat and sun

And cover ourselves in more

Or less

Cloth

And meet him

Who I haven’t seen in a while

And miss.

 

In the car we gallop

Down motorways

And get caught in a storm

Of people

And when we land on the beach

We seek shelter

To eat our sand sprayed

Sandwiches

And listen to poetry

That I haven’t written

But wish I had.

 

At home we waste hours

Eating, drinking

Listening to me talk

And listening to him listen

A soft hum and nod

And then decide

To take the night

And watch other’s laugh

Upon borrowed bikes.

 

And it feels so good

To have him

And to let him have me

Because I have never met myself

Or seen myself so closely

And he’s making me love her

And telling her

‘You’re not the only one’

But meaning something other

To what ‘he’ has said before.

 

Sleep talking

You slept on tiptoes

and between dreams

and told me

in your sleep

that I was stealing the covers

and I laughed

watching you cradled in cloud

and linen perfume.

 

You woke before the sun

and between seconds

and told me

as your eyes opened

that I’d stolen the covers

and I said I was sorry

and kissed your smiling greedy eyes

back to sleep.

He told me he loved me

He told me the other day

but I was laughing

and using my laughter to fill my ears

to block noise or notion

body and motion

and his truth

that I pretended was a joke.

 

But now,

now I am thinking clear

and my ears are empty

body clean

and I can hear him

or a memory of him

and he tells me I am cruel and unkind

to ignore him

and all I want

is to be kind