#bronte writes stuff

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i’m coming soon

i shan’t be long

i’m just no good

i’m just really wrong

for everyone else so it’s hard to find you

but it will happen

i’m certain

it’s true

it’s true

it’s true

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needy needy

I wish I wasn’t needy needy I wish I didn’t need you you I wish I don’t stare like a lunatic holding my breath for you you. I wish I wasn’t panicked to talk to you you and I wish it all worked out but we all know I’m a coward who is incapable of love now. I never learnt to do it and I never will so I will remain an emotionless shell begging for love love love. If you read this you would run away just as you ran away from me today. And all of this may be nothing and all of this may be everything but I don’t know what to do. I want you you. I wish I wasn’t needy needy. I wish you could see me see me.

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A little word to wise,

Don’t hide so deeply behind that disguise

Don’t pretend to be someone you not

Because 20% of you feels like you should.

 A little hint for next time,

Before you lay your soul on the line

Too much of you is hard to swallow

But it is better than not enough.

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If you tell me a secret,

For god’s sake – make it true,

Make it pure and honest and spritely

Make it something that is so inherently you.

Make it a lie you fashioned for me

So that it appears the truth

So, I never know the real you

You never know the real me

And we remain completely uncouth.

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I’m So Human.

I’m so human

I reek of bad breath, bad days, bad taste

My fingernails have too much dirt beneath them

My freckles are smudges from the sun

My ears have holes in them like some deformity

My eyes can’t see so far

My spine is crooked as it slithers up and down

My back which, by the way, has spots

My stomach is a kangaroo pouch, I keep the most valuable things there

My heart is a cage, I keep the most valuable things there, too.

My lungs do a good job, I guess, I’m really not aware

My legs are two tram tracks

My ankles crack

My toes are too long, they freak me out a bit.

I’m so human

I’m here. I exist.

Flaws and all.

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something i shouldn’t  say...

I’m wide awake sleeping on your floor  

Whilst you’re fucking her at a quarter to four  

What? Those texts didn’t mean shit?

What? You just wanted to play a bit?

Baby, you shout my name as you come

Whilst I lie there and just feel numb

Don’t pretend I’m not the girl you dream about

Don’t lie when I just heard you shout

My name as your girlfriend gets it

You’re obsessed with me, I’ve pulled you

Hook, line and sinker and I don’t apologise

You were mine the moment we first got high

And you couldn’t stop looking at my lips

And I knew that completely, I was his. 

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Almost.

There is no word quite as heart-breaking as almost.

And you, my love were my almost

We almost were something

We almost were polar opposite, fire-and-ice once in a lifetime loves

We maybe were too fiery, too icy for each other

We maybe were too similar

We, maybe, let it get in the way.

We almost were.

We were so close if it weren’t for you and me

Me, with my mouth and ambition and folly

You, with your lips and drive and foolishness

We were synonyms of the same word,

Perfect on paper

Clashing in ink

We were almost an almost and now

You’re with

Her and

My poor heart is still thinking about the

We, we almost were.

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I Miss Home - An Honest Confession from a Student

I miss home. I miss just about everything about being home. I miss turning my key with its plush elephant key ring into a door that never really opens properly. I miss getting in the front doors as slowly as possible so the noise wouldn’t blabber that I was home so I couldn’t surprise anyone. I miss the perpetually lit fireplace in the Living Room. I miss my Dad with his glasses forever perched on his nose. Alternatively, his glasses would be lost forever. I miss my family’s little idiosyncrasies. I miss the march from the kitchen to the living room. I miss the eternally dusty staircases. I miss roast potatoes. I miss gravy. I miss warm food that doesn’t take two hours to make because of a broken hob, full stop. I miss cuddles. I miss the noise. Actually, sometimes I really don’t miss the noise. But sometimes I do.

I think about all the things I miss about home and my stomach ties in little knots. What’s stopping me?  What’s preventing me from getting the next train home to all of the little things that I miss about home? And then the answer comes into my head. I’m forgetting one tiny detail.

When I was at home, I was dying to be here. I worked so hard to get here. I can’t just quit when the going gets tough. Because I know that if I quit I’ll miss home. I’ll miss shopping for myself. I’ll miss having blinds. I’ll miss my friends. I’ll miss having a small room. I’ll miss the nicer trains. I’ll miss the library. I’ll miss the creative freedom. I’ll miss not waking up and knowing that I’m doing something I love. I’ll miss not scraping by even though it’s scary. I’ll miss not having Pizza Hut downstairs. I’ll miss not being judged for having pizza at 3am. There are things that really suck about being away, really. There are and it hangs on my soul like a ginormous weight. But this is the time to try and alleviate the weight. Not run away from it, forever being shackled to home.

Rooted to home. Yes. Always. But being shackled to home? That’s a curse.

Where’s the freedom?

No. I will stay. I will continue. I will persevere. I will continue missing home.

Because it means I’m rooted to it.