Little Hellion Writings

[littlehellionwritings]

I Don't Love You. II

I don't love you. I just love the way your hair curls, The way you lick your lips when you're holding back your words between smiles. I love the way your voice gets soft at night when others are asleep And yet you'll hold my hand out loud in the middle of Tesco.  I love the way your t-shirt hangs, And the way you shout at cars on the road And yet your fingers are in mine above the gear stick. I love when you daydream about taking me to Paris, Saying you know I'm not a possession but you want me to be yours. I love the way you'll say two serious things then one joke. The way you hold me, buried deep, rendering me fragile and vulnerable, a baby bird in your strong hands.  I'd always thought I was too big or unwieldy or strong-willed to be fragile and precious like the way you see me then. You make me a flower, budding, bloomed. You a careful bee, visiting self assured, sipping hard-won nectar in a holy moment for two. I love the way you groan grumpily in the morning, And the way you crack an egg, edge of a knife. I love the way your melting-chocolate eyes look from two inches away, And the way your stubble graces the subtle planes of a jaw I'd like to skate on. I love your deliberate choice of words, Your ability to exclaim with me equally about the state of the economy and the joy of a dog we pass in the park where we watched clouds and painted dreams the day we first met. Yeah, I love all these things. I don't love you though. Don't be ridiculous. This isn't a movie. I promise, I swear, Don't get scared, I don't love you.

[littlehellionwritings]

We Are

Pale limbs, whispered nothings, scratched skin. Play fights and pillow talk.  Holy moments and moments of a most devout, sinful unholiness.  Ylang ylang and sweat.  Cold pizza and lemongrass green tea.  Road rage and hands held above the gear stick.  Petrol stations, tube stations.  Rivers. Trees waving while dogs run, Happy.  Cloud formations: a bicycle, an emoji.  We are noses grazing cheekbones and nails dug into backs; massaged shoulders and bitten necks.  We are all the moments apart spent wishing, all those together spent spending.

[littlehellionwritings]

Anacortes Dreams

I cross Deception Pass in my sleep Drift past misty cliffs A bridge of triangles Constructed with strength in mind Failing to lend some strength to those Who stand at the railing Waiting for a sign To keep them from falling But not the ship's horn Blast through the night Nor the distant wink Of an island lighthouse  Nor the slanting shafts of moonlight Shifting through Pacific fog The Pacific itself Not so placid to the sunken ships Merwomen guard in the storms Underwater forests waving to the music Of the straits of Juan De Fuca. I stand at the railing too With those whom the equilateral struts have disappointed Left cold by the drizzly mist and geometry of cliffs Waiting for something to move them Beyond the ancient trees gripping sloping ground, Holding on against everything Beyond the light swiveling back and forth saying, "don't crash, I'm here, we're all here" Waiting, And I join the wind to whisper What more sign is there? This IS it This is it.

[littlehellionwritings]

Falling in Love

I’ve been falling in love with myself in bus window reflections Lovingly rubbing in coconut oil To my bruised limbs and tangled tresses Loving the smooth slick against night time sheets And the sight of my own hands Gripping, twisting, scraping, holding, tightening, trembling, always in my view, a grounding of sorts.

I am all I’ve got.

[littlehellionwritings]

When

When will I tire of crying? Will these jagged bones in my throat stop tearing? Will the cold stone in my chest erode against the ebbing tide of briny tears? Will my paper skin stop itching, creasing, origami'd till there's no space between folds? Will my muscles be new again, tired of creaking, cringeing, groaning at the weight of heavy air? Will my blood dry up, rust coloured dust blown away from this ground like an eyelash off a finger? Will the snakes in my gut sleep? Will my pickled eyes be dry, at the whisper of love on the breeze? Will the forest of follicles on my arms and neck cease their soldierly salute? When will the moon smile kindly and answer my darkest needs When I know that she sees you And knows what you are doing And if you're crying too?

[littlehellionwritings]

Kindness

I saw a man untuck a woman's hood for her as she put her jacket on on the train. Her smile didn't fade for two stops.

[littlehellionwritings]

Your Scent

Your scent Deep nestled in your shoulder Cooing like a baby bird Letting you enjoy  The strength in my vulnerability Arm like burnt sugar I saw your eyebrows lift In pathos as you bit Your lip At my little scream Living up to your own words on my phone screen Bravado and sweet nothings Made lasciviously visceral Touchably tangible Your scent Flashes of a sensory memory My flesh, and Your scent

[littlehellionwritings]

A Riddle

What you see is made of me Although not loud, I stop your sleep I fill the air but can't be breathed. Although your mind seems full of me, Inside your brain I'll never be.

[littlehellionwritings]

You fertilise my genesis I grow from this bullshit

[littlehellionwritings]

The Moon Speaks

You thought you were my sun I laugh, because  I am the moon And you are a cloud And it will never again Be me That you rain on.

[littlehellionwritings]

-

woke up with itchy stick and poke dots all over my skin, dehydration and a headache. little pieces of you haunt me everywhere i can’t do this for myself

[littlehellionwritings]

Infinity

late at night the thought returns to me again that no matter how much they fix my mind deep down I will always find, when I search for it an unfathomable well of despair 

[littlehellionwritings]

Skin

I'm still thinking about it that glitter on your cheek the things you whispered into my hair the places we could and couldn't have gone the shame of it is I’d do it all again and more

and you left your glitter under my skin

[littlehellionwritings]

Shadowdance

your sighs dance behind my eyes like shadows and i know it replays in my mind more than it ever has or will in yours I am disposable

[littlehellionwritings]

It's all going to go wrong, I can feel it

like the calm before the storm

like the camera panning in on an unlocked door, a shadow behind a curtain, a carefully stacked house of cards. Like the fragility of an eggshell, a newborn child, an awakening from a kiss. Where can it go but wrong?

Things get way too real in my dreams. I can’t believe I give a shit about you. Yet you’ve found your way into my house and now you’re smashing all my mirrors and I just can’t see myself anymore through the haze of How Much I Want You To Fuck Me And My Life Up.

[littlehellionwritings]

Happiness is a Warm Bed

everything’s a mess, and I don’t care.

when i close my eyes i can smell you on my skin still, like an echo the smile you made just won’t fade away

because shame has yet to come

[littlehellionwritings]

A Little Haiku

my fingers want to curl up in your hair and fall asleep there, at last