There wasn’t going to be a five. Honestly. When we spoke around Christmas we said what we said. I don’t think I meant it. I just like to tell you what I think you want to hear. You deleted your messages. I kept screenshots. No reason why. No need to worry. Anyway. There wasn’t going… Continue reading Five.
The date clicks early on but it isn’t something she marks on her calendar. Sometimes she imagines it in invisible ink, surrounded by birthdays and reminders and SMEAR TEST in red pen. It’s a day she remembers so easily. She closes her eyes and if she wants to, she can relive it. She can relive… Continue reading Four.
Every ticking second I wonder if I’m a moment closer or further away.
She’s in the spaces between your thoughts An open pair of legs to quiet the voices in your head A cup of coffee brewing as your shower for work She’s a candlelit room in the middle of the night She’s a piece of fruit slipped into your satchel She’s waiting She’s waiting waiting for the… Continue reading But Never A Banana
It was right around this time, in our third or fourth pub, that you leaned in and said that maybe we should go home and listen to music. Of course we stopped at other pubs along the way. You held my hand through the tunnel and when we got home we went to bed for… Continue reading Three
She woke with the first chirps of the alarm and hit snooze. He did not stir. The pattern repeated for half an hour until it was absolutely time for him to get up. She placed her hand on his back and contracted her fingers gently. He moved when she murmured his name, but rather than… Continue reading The Mornings After
It was after one o’clock in the afternoon. He passed my desk and my attention was snared by something not quite right. “Phil?” I called after him. “What’s up?” He turned back. “Do you know that you’re wearing odd shoes?” He looked down at his feet. One grey boot and one brown. He laughed.… Continue reading P.A.O
It started, as always, in the driveway of my mum and dad’s house. We kissed and hugged each other, I nudged my brother awkwardly on the arm, and we waved at the across-the-road-neighbours. “Happy New Year,” we shouted, our interaction with them over for another twelve months. Everyone drifted up to bed and I was… Continue reading January.
I first see you in September, leaning against the bus stop. You have long, black hair. You’re wearing a leather trench coat. I instantly like you, but you look at me as though I’m the same as every other girl who walks out of those gates. I wish I hadn’t worn my faded lemon shirt;… Continue reading Letters to My Loves – #1