my body is an antique.
once it was loved and treasured and used.
it felt hands, and fingertips, lips even.
its curves were delicately stroked.
its openings softly prodded.

it was a thing of pride,
to be shown off to others.
it was not perfect.
but deep love made it so.

now, my body is cold and broken.
a cracked vase in a dirty window.
they stare at me. they leer and stare and leer and stare.
and I dance for them.
I dance and I twirl and I smile for them.

they want to buy me.
they know that I am broken.
they know I will be easily fixed.
with love.
with hands.
putting me back together,
correct, this time.

but I don't want it.
I am myself,
this broken, alone thing.
I want to remain cold.
I don't want a new flower in my vase.
just the memory of the last,
flitting over me like a butterfly,
eyelashes, lips, fingertips.
gone to another.

my body is an antique.
that is how it will remain.

ps.

eyelashes are not magic.
love is a myth.

time

I cried really hard twice today.

It's one less than I cried yesterday.

And hopefully one more than I will cry tomorrow.

Wrote this in my head on the way home from his house.

Arms that warmed me, will not warm me.
Hands that held mine, will not hold me.
Words that thrilled me, will cease to thrill me.
and the eyes that told me, have done finally.

Oh and the kisses.
The kisses.
on foreheads,
on lips, hips, tips
of you
on inner arm and inner thigh
on fingers and on minds
on you and on mine
between cheeks
between sheets
on buses
in rain
under bandstands
on trains
in "Paris"
and on the walk home
by the river
and everywhere in between.
when we wanted.

Kisses that fell on you. and on me. will no longer fall.

new blog.

hey guys. sorry i don't post on here, like ever, anymore. heres my new blog. its actually for my boyfriend. but whatever, you might like reading it.


http://blogforjohnathan.blogspot.com/

I'm planning on uploading a fashion section, where i'll be working on my portfolio and uploading it as i go, so hopefully you'll like that, if you don't like the mushy lovey crap.

toodles.

Can't you see that you're fading.

wow, it's been a really long time since I've written in this.
I've been in Australia the past 3 weeks, and still am. So I've been writing another blog for my boyfriend, and I've been posting on that, even though it's ridiculously romantic and sentimental and stuff, and before I left I was doing my a-levels, and attempting to concentrate on them and things.

I just felt a need to write in this, about change.

Change is a big thing to me. I don't like when things change.
When my mom threw out our old sofa it had to be put outside until someone could collect it. I sat on it all day in a big big coat reading A series of unfortunate events (I was probably 12-ish at the time, maybe a little older), and drinking cups of tea my family would bring out to me.

But sometimes things are sadder when they don't change.

Sometimes you realise that people can say things, dress things up to be different than they actually are, but they are the same person.

Anyway. I'm coming home later next week, and I can't wait to see everybody. I miss my sweet boyfriend and lovely mummy.

later all.

Dream Irish house to rent, along with acceptance into dream university? PLEASE.

i've spent this whole week in bed sick. really i should have blogged right? but i had like no energy :( i did do one productive thing though! i brought my portfolio (along with my boyfriends) down to the south to this art college we want to go to. i checked out the place and all, and there's this town down the road from the uni called Dawkey? or something? it's so beautiful. so we were searching for houses online today while he was over.

i feel like a grown-up. it's wierd, but exciting!

You.Are.Loved.