and so the sky split above her. 

the sky that held her world and all that she knew. 

it fell, 

it fell for days and months at a time. 

she built forests with trees as high as she could imagine,

she asked them to sow the sky back up. 

and she played her music and she walked on,

she traverses the planes of her life.

but the sky is still split, and all she knows or knew is sti...

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good for one,

fine for two, 

never in the group.

fine for one,

okay for two,

don't let her in. or let her know. 

i'm still a child.

weeping at home, because my friends wont play.

screaming at night because my mind allows no respite.

no sleep for the wicked.

i feel like i have done so many awful things, 

but i cant remember what.

or why i did them.

but i know ...

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girls are beautiful like trees. 

heads pointed at the sky, stretched wide into the clouds. 

eternal and shadowed, 

i like to sit beneath beautiful girls.

i like to bask in their shade, no sunlight illuminates my shape. 

some beautiful girls forget that they will live on through me. 

and i want to grasp these girls, 

fold into them, 

climb their trunks and sit atop their bow...

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leaving my shape in the grass where i lay.

the riverbed runs again, 

theres plenty for everyone i love.

as the ship of my life crosses paths with the girl from my other,

the cannons fire.

the ships cat awakens, light on her tawn. 

she stretches, long and furious.

she hears music from the other side of the world, 

and under the music, a call of FIRE. 

the ship rocks, sway...

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all my friends feel useless.

all my friends feel like they want to be anyone other than themselves. i dont wish they were anyone else.

i wish i was someone else. 

me and my friends feel sick at the sight of our parents and our bedroom floors.

our eyes dont work like the people's before us and we stare too hard at the grey skies of glasgow.

my friends sit in bar bathrooms bearing the...

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life was never difficult for me, not in theory, not really.

i made it difficult, 

no one will help me find any sort of source for this pain.

my life was always sweet and kind.

so i dont really understand where the thorns grew,

or how they managed to find me.

my mum told me that sometimes babies born from C-sections turn out different, 

because they dont get the nutrients they ...

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it's my birthday on OCTOBER 3RD. 

i will be 21. 

i've lived a little more than i ever did before.

i saw the inside of my head from a first persons perspective. 

i know who i am, but i am extremely scared to lose her. 

my sister is my soulmate and my friends are my angels.

my throat hurts more than last year from the cigarettes and the screaming. 

my heart hurts alot more than ...

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everyones leaving for the summer. 

outside car doors slam and girls with long blonde hair, 

grin at their sisters and hug their brothers.

books bundled high in stricken arms. 

no tears, they're just leaving for the summer. 

open windows to air out the spring, the old. 

rucksacks bursting with new tshirts. 

i watch from an opened window on the third floor, 

i need the air to...

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right now. 

in this moment. 

right now, i love. 

i love. god i love,

everyone i have ever met. 

lying, sweating, pulsing. 

in love with myself and the world. 

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here she is! 

O great ones,

the first of our ancestors to weep!

the strikingly plain girl with blunt hair and wavering convictions.

her fathers daughter, 

firstborn, born quietly into the night,

born at midnight.

what a disappointment, our hardened labourers hands and courage,

wasted on a girl, a girl who weeps.

who's heart has been weakened by love.

a spoiling of our...

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i am wrapped in an orange towel crying in the bathroom. 

because i am scared and because i am sad. 

to lament the unlovable nature of oneself, 

yet freeze at any moment of affection is a hard life to lead. 

but i am leading it and it is hard. 

why cant i open myself to people. 

why?

who made me this way. 

who placed feelings so deep and profound in my heart,

but locked t...

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i had my first panic attack last night.

i thought it was a heart attack. 

i thought maybe i was going to die.

i didnt, 

but i was shaking, and i was cold, 

i couldnt breathe and i was sick.

and when i thought about it, 

i was scared to go

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please come over. 

we can read, or talk.

please come over and tell me your secrets. 

i can listen, you can talk.

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when i was 11, 

i wanted to be 20. 

i was too old for my own good.

sat with adults, talked like adults, ate like adults

i turn 21 in 4 months and i think there might be nothing i want more than to be 11 again.

when me and my cousins were equals. 

life has always been difficult for me, 

but it was okay at 11,

because i was 11.

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there is something in my stomach. 

there's something in my stomach. 

i scream. 

someone help get it out. 

i scream. 

they cant, obviously. 

of course they cant, i can. i can. 

it hurts. 

its hurting me. 

i scream, 

someone do something. 

a hug, a mother, a family. 

it wont stop hurting me. 

not since last week. 

or maybe a year ago is more accurate. 

or...

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theres periods 

of mourning, 

every morning. 

when the seasons change, 

when they days get longer, or shorter. 

i feel a deep dread, a doomed life ahead of me.

no matter how much i begged the maker for the days to change length, 

when they do I can see so far ahead, 

that the ends in sight.

and that end is kind, but cruel. 

so far ahead that the seasons no longer, 

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i want to give myself up, be caught red handed.

i say outloud the things that are supposed to be unspoken, 

because i need to hurry, i need to hurry up. 

when she knocks over the last paper cup and i have to clean it from the carpet.

down on my hands and knees, unashamed and angry. 

staring through my legs at the boys whilst they go on not caring about my legs, 

or the carpet. 

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i leave things in other peoples houses on purpose. 

so they remember me.

so i have reasons to return. 

i left a poster in one, 

my sunglasses in another, 

so i stay in mind.

so when they wear the glasses, or the pass the poster,

they think of Nadia. 

me. 

i leave bits of me in every place i go, 

i make sure to share too much, or shout too loud. 

so they remember me...

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there is a wanting so dreadful within me. 

and god put it there he sent me here to be hungry and alone,

with blood dripping from my mouth the mouth of babes. 

if i meet him and he smiles i swear i'll make him cry the way i do.  

i have love. I HAVE LOVE.

i have it to give, in buckets, in pails,

theyre so full of love i could hardly fill them with sand.

but where do i put them ...

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the best times come from the sun shining at a certain angle onto the sheets of my bed.

when the yoghurt tastes good and the granola doesnt need honey.

when my cousin grazed his forehead, when my sister broke her arm.

when i would stare up into tree's 

when they would stare back.

lying face down on the ground smiling,

because there was always the next day, and another.

the stra...

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i have no idea how to reconcile the fact that,

i knew people once, like i know the lines on my face.

people who now fade so far into my memories that nothing reminds me of them.

my mum says, thats the way it is.

that life is about the fading and the renewal.

the old memories being old and never present. 

but i cant stomach it!

it makes me completely sick. 

i wish i knew eve...

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there's been a tightening in my chest as of late. 

my dad says its the cigarettes ive started smoking. 

that the clouds that form around the people i talk to, 

well theyre no good for me. 

there's been a longing in my bones as of late. 

my brain tells me its the position i curl myself into, 

spine splitting in two as i gape.

there's a funny sadness in my heart as of ...

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the new year rolls in and ive learned so much and so little all at once. 

so much about myself, and so little of how to deal with it.

i know now that i can be kissed, and liked, and loved.

but now it hurts all the more that im not.

knowing i have the capacity for it, and not recieving it, 

having it hang out of reach. kills me, it kills.

i know when to stop, and how long to stop ...

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