i can't give you answers.

all my verbs have been taken,
but to aurify, to turn into gold.
because i am tired of being second best.




greek. it means protector of mankind.
i ruined that family line,
all first born are called arthur.
by chance, they were all boys.

i think my parents were wrong.
i can't protect anyone, least of all myself.

arthur would have suited me.
nobody knows what it means
or where it came from.







one is alive. one is dead. 


being insufficient,
being scared velvet, copper coins, foam, cutlery
and that they prevent me from living a 'normal' life.



i sleep far too much. i'm permanently tired.




everyday is a yet another reason why i should have changed.




everything is circumstantial.



i don't have anything that can convince me anymore.
i have heard it all,
and it's all wrong. 



i love.

i love more than one thing.
i love cut grass and purple and vanilla essence,
scrumped apples, spinning on roundabouts, spirographs.

but i'm not in love with anybody.
i'm too tired to be in love.




i don't want to be someone else,
i just want to be different to me.



only with my left.
my right eye looks like i'm in pain.



not consciously.

not consciously.





i lie to strangers.
yesterday i was asked where i was going,
so i said i was going to catch a plane to germany.

i don't want to.
i just want to stop.




i believe in being good.
because inflicting pain and suffering purposely is bad.


i don't know.
it'd be nice to think we do.





define platonic love.








i'm jealous of who i'm not.







i check my reflection permanently.
i tell myself it's because i can't look a mess
but sometimes i think i might be because i'm not sure if i'm there.




adam, ligeia, icarus, faith.





i read textbooks,
when i am so consumed with facts,
i don't think about people.












i have never known who i am.
i am a girl with brown hair and brown eyes and awkward limbs. i am a girl who's damaged and not fully broken, who receives therapy once a week and tries to talk but sits, holding herself together and then says things she didn't want to admit to and who ends up covering her mouth and screaming and sobbing. sometimes shaking. i am a girl who just wants it to stop. i just want everything to stop.
i am a girl who doesn't have any control any more. i am a girl who just yesterday saw a safety pin in her bedroom and then picked it up and suddenly it was pressed against her chest, her hands turned red and her chest started glittering and she was crying and she couldn't stop it. i am a girl who doesn't know if she believes in god, or in angels or shakespeare or chaos theory.
i am a girl who throws up after every meal and who drinks boiled water and who is desperately trying to be thin enough and i am a girl who can't recite the alphabet or count backwards from a hundred and who holds on to everything and who can tell you worthless things, but can't remember the colour of his eyes.
and above all this, i am a girl who is made of criticisms and other people's beliefs, a girl with a victimisation complex, a girl who doesn't know where she's going and doesn't know if she wants to go there.
and i am a girl who genuinely doesn't know who she is.