Just One Of The Things I Regret

I did it
Two
Nights ago.

Nothing too
Serious - Just
Stupid.

I got
Information
That I hated.

Because it wasn't
Fair. Also wasn't
My fault.

And I couldn't
Do anything
About it.

So I went to bed.
I cried.
I got a blue pen.

I pulled up my
T-shirt sleeve.
I wrote.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."
I wrote it
Again and again.

On the same
Spot. It kinda
Hurt. A bit.

I was upset.
I was angry.
I was being reckless.

The next morning.
Blue on my white
T-shirt.

That night.
I go to wash it off.
Only most comes off.

Red marks
Of the words I wrote.
And slight blue ink.

The second night later -
Tonight -
Still a little ink left.

And red marks.
Look,
And the words are readable.

I kinda wish
I hadn't done it.
Mum might see.

Oh well.
Probably - hopfully -
It'll be gone before she does.

I wonder
When it will go?
I'll have to wait. And see.

Love from, Me.
xx

I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry... :'-(

I haven't spoken to him
In over
A week.

I'm starting to
Quietly
Fret.

What did I do?
Something wrong?
Is it my fault?

Have I been
Pestering you too much?
I try not to. Really.

But was it me?
If so,
I'm sorry. Really sorry.

He was on tonight.
When I
Got home.

Signed in.
There he was.
Online.

He didn't talk to me.
He didn't talk to me.
He didn't fucking talk to me!

And now
He's offline.
Not. A. Word.

I try.
So hard.
My head hurts.

Cause that's where I keep it all.
My thoughts.
Everything.

I do my utmost.
Usually I think
I'm pretty successful.

At not being possessive.
Obsessive.
Smothering.

Outside
My head,
Anyway.

Inside
It's a whole
Different story.

I am possessive.
Obsessive.
Smothering.

But I keep it
To the confines
Of my head.

But was it me?
Please, talk.
Talk to me.

I need to know
We're ok.
Please, talk to me.

Love from, Me.
xx

It Just Keeps Getting Better, Don't It.

Day was alright.
At first.
It started after lunch.

"Dad, Dad. Dad, Dad, Dad!"
Take some time
From your 'busy' schedule for me.

"What's wrong with my foot?"
Bubbles. Blisters. A couple of them.
"Probably from second degree burns."

Sunburnt feet. Agony for the past
Two days.
Well now I know what's wrong.

So I sit
With a water bottle in a towel
On my feet.

I text mum.
"What can I do?"
No sympathy: "You should have been more careful."

I text my friend.
Ignored that fact.
Resumed normal conversation.

Then, argument with dad.
About my hair.
Again.

For fuck's sake.
When will he realise?
He does not know more about my hair than me.

Doesn't stop him from
Arguing.
That's so him.

In the end
I get my way.
Along with a guilt trip.

Bloody hell.
There's nothing
Particularly sharp.

I drop my clothes on the floor.
I turn on the shower.
I want to cry.

No knife though.
It's about killing me.
Yet I can'y cry.

Eventually in bed.
I hear dad and partner laugh.
Buuuuurn.

They have forgotten all about me.
Probably complained for a while
Then got over it.

And I thought today
Was a turnaround.
Finally getting on together.

Foolish, I know.
As if
That's gonna happen.

Love from, Me.
xx

*Originally written 14th January 2010*

My 40 Minutes at the Beach

It's afternoon; it's overcast.
Sitting up among the sand dunes.
Trying to be out of the wind.

Watching the waves.
Jade green turns into
Steel grey to the horizon.

Continuous.
Crashing.
Slightly hypnotic.

Calming.
Sort of.
A bold, headstrong, calmness.

Watching the boats.
Two of them.
One eventually disappears.

Watching the salt spray
Get carried by the wind
As the wave rolls.

Watching a jogger
Every so often
Run by to the beat of an iPod.

I huddle to my knees.
The wind spits sand at me.
My fringe flies crazily.

Thinking
About the mesmerising effect
Of the tide.

Intrigued
By its movement.
I have all the time in the world right now.

Goosebumps on my legs.
My shorts have sand in their creases.
My jacket hood blows off.

Almost magical.
The fact I'm kinda cold
Ruins it.

I almost like it better like this.
No sun, just clouds.
No blue, just grey.

No people.
Just the tourists:
Parents with overexcited kids.

Not quite happy.
Yet also not unhappy.
Satisfied. For now.

Look over to the neighbouring beach.
Just the same as mine.
Only higher buildings behind it.

Looking at the grass.
Being hammered by the wind.
The unrelenting wind.

Time goes strange.
Fast, slow, fast, then slow.
I'll go now.

Be gone an hour.
And my toes are getting cold.
Pale underneath the sunburn.

I'll visit again.
Tomorrow.
Love an overcast, windy beach.

Love from, Me.
xx

*Originally written 13th January 2010*

My Kind of Good Time

Squished
In the back of the car
On the way home.

Me,
My sister,
And her friend.

Singing
At the top of our lungs
Laughing in between words.

"Bye, bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove my Chevy to the levy,
But the levy was dry..."

I'm the oldest.
But sometimes the 3-year age gap
Can just disappear.

Strange.
It's not like me and my sister
Are exactly friends.

But I guess,
Sometimes there are
Exceptions.

So much fun.
Best time I've had
In ages.

Probably since
My formal.
Last year.

I was dancing,
And singing,
And laughing.

I don't have that good a time
Very often.
Usually it's just bad.

But it was good.
I want
To do it again.

Maybe another time.
But I don't know when us 3
Will be like that again.

But I had a good time.
On the way back
From the movies.

Also
Eating M'n'M's.
Playing Corners.

Strangely good times.
I was laughing.
How odd.

Yet true.
I was laughing.
And I wasn't faking.

Wasn't just laughing
For the sake of it.
So I blended in.

Laughing cause I meant it.
Cause it was funny.
Cause I was happy.

Well,
As close as I can be,
To happy.

Love from, Me.
xx

What Was It? Pleeease?

There's something
He's not telling me,
I reckon.

So I brought it up
With him,
He might maybe say?

I reminded him
Of the occasion on which
It happened,

He started to say something,
But never finished.
Rolling my eyes.

I was left with a,
"nvm":
Never Mind.

Irritating.
Highly.
I will mind.

But tonight -
Oh, it could be magic!
He forgets.

He forgets, my ass.
Said very quickly.
Along with, "goodnight."

So I wish him goodnight.
And race to Facebook.
I have to check.

Is he just appearing offline?
Apparently not.
He's not online on Facebook, either.

He must have really had to leave.
Despite the fact -
He usually leaves an hour later.

Gotta wonder.
Don't ya?
Even if you shouldn't.

Maybe I'm going
A little overboard.
Maybe.

But what can I say?
I'm really dyyying,
To know what he was going to tell me.

Well.
Not about to find out now,
Am I?

Nope.
Looks like I'm gonna have to
Just keep on wondering.

Unlikely that I'll
Ever find out
What he was going to say.

No.
I don't like that fact.
At all.

Love from, Me.
xx

To Work It Out

I spend ages
Trying to decipher
What he means

Stalking Facebook
Reading through comments,
Wall messages, anything

Trying to work it out.
He doesn't sound alright-
What's going on?

'View All Comments'
Click.
Looooong discussion...

But he doesn't say.
Only dw:
Don't Worry.

So over to the archives-
My journal:
Nothing special happened on that day.

Text messages:
Still no result.
Think, think...

MSN history:
We didn't talk that day.
Think again....

So it must not have anything
To do with me.
I guess that's a good thing.

But wait!
Two days later
I talked to him

On MSN, so the history shows it
I realise what it was
My detective work pays off.

So now I know.
I remember.
I sink.

I realise that must have been the day
He found out he was moving
Away.

But that is only one case.
There have been others.
Searching, looking

To find out lots.
Is what he says to me true?
Should I know anything he's not told me?

But the thing is:
I know it all already.
He's told me before.

But I can't help it
Still looking, checking,
Even for a different perspective.

But at the end of the day,
You have to remember,
There's only so much you're able to find out.

Love from, Me.
xx