I completed the London Marathon!

I really can’t put Sunday into words. I finally did it! I completed a marathon for the first time in my life. And not just that but the London Marathon! After about a decade of watching the full coverage on TV and always saying “I could never do that!” I fucking did it! Yes, I was slow, but I didn’t stop running once. And I’m proud of that.

The crowd support was like nothing I have every experienced. Strangers shouting my name, cheering me on, telling me I’m “magnificent” or “a legend”. It almost brought me to tears at one point.

High point – overtaking a rhino
Low point – being overtaken by a submarine

The Mind cheering stations were the best, I just felt a connection to the cause and it felt amazing.

Little kids smiling and shouting your name. Strangers actually smiling at you and holding eye contact for a brief second whilst cheering you on. It made it all worth it.

And seeing my sister (the last time I will see her before she leaves to start her new life abroad – I sobbed into my girlfriend’s shoulder when I finally said goodbye), my girlfriend, my best friend and my Mum at the finish line ♥ AND I didn’t feel like I was going to collapse after I’d finished. I had my beer and chocolate and felt fucking triumphant!

The pain the next day – it was agony, but it felt like a trophy, like I’d truly earnt it. And I bloody had. I couldn’t be happier with myself ♥

I FUCKING DID IT!

sorry?

i had to ask for it
i had to spell it out to you
because you’d forgotten, like you do
all the hell you put me through

i had to spell it out
this is what you did to me
and was i supposed to accept that gratefully?
and let you off, so deservedly?

what i lost when i lost you
was so much more than just a relationship
i was a sinking battleship
already losing my grip

no, you didn’t recognise the full impact
that final straw, turned to one almighty blow
i was freefalling, but imperceptibly slow
no parachute, or safety net, into the ground below

does it really count as an apology
if i had to ask for it first?
if you were coerced?
for everything you said sounded performative and rehearsed

you say you’ve changed now
that you don’t do that anymore
don’t go back on words you swore
and isn’t she lucky, the girl you now call yours?

well, i don’t accept your apology
but i’ll pretend i do with grace
i’d rather you’d left me unanswered
but i’ll let you save your face.

i don’t relate to you

i don’t relate to you anymore.
i used to think we were always on the same page
reading from the same hymn sheet
but that was back in the day

i don’t relate to you,
and that’s not to say i think i’m better than you
the days before we started unravelling
i’m well aware of the shitty things i did too

i don’t relate to you,
because i could never promise someone a life together in one breath,
and then do a full one-eighty
and claim it was for my mental health

i don’t relate to you,
because i’d never lie to hide my feelings
the ones you were too afraid
to just deal with

i don’t relate to you,
because i’d never put someone in the position you put me in
and say it was for my own good
i’d never be that fucking mean

and it’s a shame,
because for almost four years you were the only one i could relate to,
i guess it’s true that people change
and i guess i’ve outgrown you.

no, i don’t relate to you, anymore.

not a poem, just love – day one

I’ll pick you up at the station, 12:18
We’ve been sending each other nervous selfies
I’ll have our playlist on in the car, and when we finally see each other
serendipitously,
our song comes on.
The one that’s been spinning round our heads for weeks.

You’re in my car now and I can’t quite believe it,
and I don’t know what confidence possesses me
but I say “come here” and lean over the parking brake
and kiss you for the first time.

I don’t think it’s even been 30 seconds since setting eyes on you,
but already something feels like it’s clicking into place.
A huge sigh of relief.
Or coming up for air.

I’ll drive you to the lake,
and even though I’m a nervous driver
with you in the car I feel safe.
You’ll laugh at my terrible maneuvers,
and tell me I’m doing great
(even though we both know I bumped the curb).

We’ll walk around the lake,
hand in hand, like we’ve spent the last month dreaming of,
stopping to kiss each other on the forehead or the cheek
and to finally say “I love you” out loud.

We’ll get back in the car,
and you’ll laugh and cheer me on as I rap the entirety of perfect gentleman to you on the journey back
to my place
to my bedroom.

My landlady isn’t home.
Thank god.
And we’re finally alone.
No screens and earphones,
real life and in person
and neither of us can barely contain ourselves.

We’ll punctuate our kisses with muffled “I love you”s
we’ll tentatively edge closer to each other,
we’re both giddy-drunk, swimming through a teenage-dream-like haze of
clothes and then not clothes
lips frantically covering every inch of skin possible
making up for lost time
until we’re both spent
but still wanting more.

And still wanting more is how we have to leave it,
as I drive you to the station at 6pm,
as we reluctantly kiss goodbye one more time, just one more time…

and that, that was the first date ♥

the things you got away with

CTRL + H
reveals an awful lot.
oh, how i wish i’d known.
what to do.
but at 18,
who does?

i’ve done my research now.
five years on a register, minimum.
but you took more than just my innocence that night,
held it captive to a loaded gun
locked and ready, with screams of
“you are not good enough”
“you are the one who’s not right”

got away with your dignity and reputation too.
and where was mine?
left in tattered pieces, torn polaroids
of what used to be
me and you.

you left with no idea of what damage you’d inflicted
and i’m still 18
and sat on your bed in the dark,
still staring at the screen.
10 years on.
but it’s not too late to have you convicted.
not yet.

you think you’ve got away with what you’ve done,
what you did,
what you excused away.
but i still remember that night
and the next day.

returning home to uni halls
broken, grey, defeated.
not telling a soul
well, not until recently,
anyway.

so how much did you really get away with?

the things that haunt me still

a phone blinking in gloomy bedroom lights
a google search history, and a site
for sore eyes

that morning where the coffee i made him went cold
when i told him to go
and another morning
where he said he didn’t want coffee at all
and i broke down crying; this isn’t a discussion anymore

holding his hair back whilst he was sick
after taking too many drugs, again
the smell of cigarettes on his mouth
and his lips
dripping
with lies

guitar melodies that used to be just for my ears
well i guess she hears
them now too

and a gut feeling,
that i knew it was all wrong
for a long time
but i still clung on

until

fingertips leaving reluctant fingertips
in the departure gate
turning back one final time to watch him go
and with each step,
sealed our fates

his to move on.
like him before.
and for me to remain.
within the lonely tales of folklore.

closure

Today I found an old letter from you.
A letter from you.
Wishing me well.
“I hope this finds you well”
Sending me my stuff from Thailand that I’d left.
That it’d only taken you more than 6 months to get around to doing.
But you’ve “been busy”.

God.
It was almost like one of those round robin Christmas cards.
“I’m doing so well”
“I’ve been so busy socialising”
“I’m truly living my best life”

You even had the audacity to sign off
“love from”.

Well, fuck you.

this is us

Your hand in mine
Our fingers intertwined
We’re both in too deep
And we hold on tight
So we don’t drift apart
As we drift off to sleep

Lips parting soft lips
Delicate, sweetness
You taste like fresh morning
Like nothing could come between this

Noses touching
Eyes out of focus
And I dont care anymore
Soft whispers between the sheets
I’ll count the ways I love you
But we’re not keeping score

Accidentally saying i do
Has become a bit of an in-joke
But we’re not joking anymore
I think we both already know

An ember
Turned to a spark
Then a wildfire
Through the forest of my haunted heart

Palm to palm
And cheek to cheek
Tangled in bedsheets
This is us now
You and me ♥️

a warning

oh, he’ll be there
for the good times
for the falling in love
over a bottle of red wine times

for the holding hands in the woods
and for the wishing on should
we, be
an eternity, a whole,
two bodies, but one soul

oh, he’ll be there

but not for when things turn sour
when minutes feel like hours
across the dining table
the candle light a token gesture
and not a word has been spoken yet

empty promises of, i’ll never leave you
but he won’t be there when it’s needed
punching, kicking, scratching, screaming
he won’t be there when the tears come streaming

he was there for the good version of you
on your best behaviour, you
for the confident, happy, exciting you
but when reality came, like an awesome wave
he couldn’t see it through

after all, i’ve come to learn, i was nothing more than a getaway car
that drove too fast
and eventually took us both tumbling
off the path

yes, i am talking to you.

you unbuckled your seatbelt and leapt
from the impending wreckage
and you ran
without a second glance over your shoulder
to see the flames
that you’d left.

(he won’t be there)

soft / bruises

love bites.
the bruises are lingering
on my chest, my hips, my back
a reminder, of candlelight dwindling
and silk ties
and too much pink wine.

but there are bruises still
on my self-esteem
on my heart
deep in my soul
and love’s keen sting
has left its indefinite mark.

does this mean i’ve remained soft, like i wanted,
through this tempest?
not hardened
still easy to bruise and still tender?

we both sidestep 3 consecutive manhole covers
wish on eyelashes
wish on 11:11
cross our fingers and pinky swear, we’re lovers
and love bites, but
is this it?
and am i finally doing it right?