Just look at yourself,

It can’t be that bad.

There must be worse out there,

What you’re doing is mad.

But I’m not mad am I,

You can see it too.

You lie to my face,

Act like you do have a clue.

Because, apparently, you can’t see,

the shit that I can,

the glaringly obvious

flaws in God’s plan.

The nose, the teeth, the hair, the brows,

the fat, the folds, the lines, the scar,

the chest...

“The knife belongs to me.” Kyron gripped the door handle tighter, ready to yank the door when he had a chance. He saw red; he could still see the prat’s smirking face across the street; he sought revenge. He was ready to cut, slice and dice his way into them until they begged him for forgiveness!

“You’re not going… put the knife down.” Chris had edged himself between the door and his brother. He ...

Since the beginning, I’ve put on a mask,

it’s not smiles, laughs, but calm. Collected.

A face that lies and says that I’m okay,

But what happens if I remove the mask.

Without it I’m cold. Distant. Uncaring.

I either love too deeply, or can’t love.

A brick wall goes up. High. Strong. Unyielding.

Deep down, I hide. I don’t deserve their love.

I almost want my life to be painful.

I want to hur...

Remember that day I danced and twirled,

You promised me I could be anything in the world.

You called me your daddies little princess,

And I was, for a time, shielded from the darkness.

I couldn’t ask for more growing up,

My hardest days you’d be there, pancakes with syrup.

You walked me down the aisle, hand in hand,

We danced, Sinatra, to our favourite band.

We did it our way, me and you,

...

Georgie could see the last few rays of light fading from the sky and all he could do was watch. He watched the sky like it was something he’d never seen before; a beauty hidden above his world of darkness. He knew it was highly likely this would be the last day he’d see to the end and he wanted to hold onto a least one pleasant memory, a pleasant memory that he couldn’t lose or have to invent.

S...

My Dear Love,

I hope this finds you well, my love. It’s been a hard few weeks for you with your family being unwell and the ongoing secret depression you are harbouring so bravely. I wish, with all my heart, that I could be there to wipe your nightly tears, but I want our first proper meeting to be magical for the both of us.

The shopping trip on Saturday was spontaneous, definitely not on your...

Dancing leaves on a pebbled path,

The cooling breeze on a dry day,

Morning drew on the fresh cut grass,

The sun enticing the darling buds of May.

Leaves finally leave their nest,

The wind is becoming impatient and pushy,

Day backs away, inviting the night in quicker,

The heaven begins to release it’s fury.

Bitter hands clasp the world,

The sun in-prisoned beyond our reach,

Death vultures...

I looked down at my phone; 10 past 12… she’s running late. I can’t see anyone else in the room but I know they’re here somewhere, just as unenthusiastic and impatient as I am, watching the sun outside the window thinking of all the other things they could be doing.

I fiddle with my phone some more, stand up to stretch my legs and reluctant plonk myself back down again.

They should have had this s...

Here is a wardrobe that symbolises inspiration and depression in not so equal measures.

On the outlook you’d see black -fifty shades of black- ranging from baggy to baggier. Whilst many assume it’s a fashion statement, my wardrobe and I know it’s not. The fleeting look I try and avoid in the mirror each morning sends a clear message to all that live in my wardrobe: you are used to hide me in publ...

My last chance to hold your hand;

to hear your voice;

to feel your breath.

My last chance to squeeze you tight;

to see your smile;

to wipe your tears.

My last chance to kiss your cheek;

to share a laugh;

to memorise your face.

My last chance to say goodbye

and it’s not enough.

Not enough time.

Not enough words

but my time is up,

my chance is slipping.

My heart is breaking,

“Goodbye mum”

and your ...