Who am I?

I look into my mirror,

but it's you who stares back at me.

Snare

I cannot be caught.

You provoke me

Why must I?

Tolerate your whims,

when they run so contrary to mine.

You annoy me,

which I find vexes me.

Either way I can find no peace of mind.

I dreamt

your dead weight,

your naked body,

crushing mine, suffocating me.

My strength nothing to your brute.

My screams unheeded, worse provocative.

I woke on the run, unable to stand the shadows.

I won't find you

if I continue to sit here

and mull over my future.

I kept myself up last night

for no good reason...

There was a time...

when the sound of a motorbike,

negotiating a hill in the distance

meant nothing to me.

You were trying

to do something nice,

whilst I was moaning and complaining.

Ignoring your kindness.

I am going

to fall in love,

sometime soon.

'Of this I shall dream'

'to hold you in my arms,

to feel your breath,

smell your hair,

feel your body warm, soft and strong against mine.'

Perhaps

I am paper thin,

barely there,

unable to hold myself upright against the chill wind.

I mourn

the loss of my own time,

long before I lose it.

A Night Out

has such potential,

for unexpected disappointment.

I tease myself

with dreams and possibilities.

Who am I?

When I look in the mirror

You stare back me.

Give me my thoughts

I tease myself with

dreams and possibilities ....

Damp Thoughts

It's no good pretending

I can control my frustration

Momentary Anger

Blotting out sense

Reeking of disapproval

Who is looking back at me?

I no longer recognise myself

I'll be right back..

A euphemism for -

I find you boring,

You're not what I was expecting,

I've lost interest.

It matters not,

I wasn't engaged.

Is it my fault?

I may have acted rashly

unthinkingly,

childishly,

without hesitation.

Should I understand your complexities ?

Why should I be asked to fill your emptiness,

listen patiently to your hostility,

Ignore your rejection.

Unanswered

I don't care for begging letters

Gentle Oblivion

What you say doesn't matter anymore.

I've consigned it to gentle oblivion.

Unhurried ranks of enevelopes

with promises of love

but nowhere to go.

If I had

the wherewithal I'd sack you and become my own judge

You remain elusive

and I,

preoccupied malcontent.

Elusive Love

I bought amnesia and ocean's song.

Where are you?

I've been waiting

My hope never wavering

Come, one glimpse will suffice.

'A thousand and one kisses for my true love'

I have been using text as a visual medium for some time now and somehow have managed to make this piece of paper look like slate.

Please Reply

I'm working on a series of mini envelopes and pondering on our ability to communicate. Inside is an apparently endless stream of "pleases" asking to be taken notice of and demanding a reply.