oncetherewasaprincessfromsparta

[oncetherewasaprincessfromsparta]

You bare the calluses of a writer

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“..My love? Where are you?”

“Here my darling. Always here..”

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Reality wishes to keep you from me my love

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I hate you with all of my love

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Heaven

Heaven to me,

Is not a place

But a person.

No one I’ve truly met.

But who is always there

In the corner of my vision

Helping me through my day.

I can’t touch them.

Not yet.

Soon.

And though,

I have not lived a great life,

I hope that when I die

I am good enough to meet them.

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Why do you try

To bend me

Where you know

That I’ll break?

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I’m on an island,

Slowly sinking

My arm outstretched to you.

You can save me!

Why won’t you save me?

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The sky is crying

Just as my heart

Cries for you

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Below the Leaves

Under the warm heat of the sun

Shining light

On the water’s glistening surface

A gum tree stands

Tall and maternal.

No sound

But the subtle creak

Of the old warf

And the sway of the breeze

And the quiet exhale of breathe

From tired lungs.

[oncetherewasaprincessfromsparta]

O Helen of Sparta

O Helen of Troy

You seek neither

And yet you are both

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Him

Him.

He’s the sun.

The smile that lights everything

(Though he always says that’s me)

He’s the mop of long blond hair

Tied in countless hairstyles

(Sometimes he lets me braid it)

He’s the one who holds the sky in his eyes

Possessing endless knowledge within

(And when he talks it’s the most captivating thing)

He’s the passion in every work of art, music and literature

(The mindless rants and praises are something we both delight in listening from the other)

He creates the most beautiful melodies

(He writes music for me to play)

He is my everything

(And I, his)

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It’s Not Real (But I Wish it Was)

I know it’s not real.

It’s never been real.

But when I’m alone

I can hold my sun

The light of my universe

That I met eons ago

In a land now dust.

I have a whole life there

Dearly beloved

With a sense of belonging.

I hate that feeling of reality

The tears that threaten to escape their confines

All when I realize

That the people that love me enough

to tear the world in two

Don’t even exist.

[oncetherewasaprincessfromsparta]

​Withdrawals

You’re like a drug.

How I am addicted to your faux kindness,

How I feel the desperate need to escape you,

And how I feel the agonising want

For you to take the very pain away of which you caused.

Withdrawals are hard.

And this part I think

Is the hardest.

But

I think

Maybe

I might be better off without you.

[oncetherewasaprincessfromsparta]

I’m so Tired

When I was away from you,

I felt happier than I had in a long time.

No longer tired during the day

Or even long into the night.

But now your back.

Demanding answers.

And my heart hurts all over again.

All I tried to do was move away slowly.

But you couldn’t let that happen.

It’s a testament really,

To how little you care.

That you jump to think the absolute worst in me.

My heart throbs with each new message

Not enough to alert anyone to the abuse.

But enough to stab me

Over and over

And over again.

[oncetherewasaprincessfromsparta]

My Other Family

When I think about my family,

I don’t mean my two parents,

Nor my brother and sister.

I don’t even mean my dog.

I’m talking about my other family;

The family trapped in the pages of the books I’ve read.

The family decorated in colour on the TV I watch.

Even if it’s in the form of two demons and an Angel with six wings,

The devil and a witch,

A princess of fire and a thief with a cane,

A painter and a boy too obsessed with blue food,

Or even a psychologist who lost the ‘logist’.

None are from the same world,

But in my head, they jump from land to land.

Two demons convincing the Angel to rest.

The psychologist who now wears pigtails and carries a bat teaching the princess her independence.

The thief showing the painter how to play cards, trying to heal her broken soul from the trials that taxed her life.

That little boy and I covered in batter in the kitchen trying to recreate his mum's cookies.

A family that no one knows I have.

A family I talk to every day.

I was raised by angels and demons,

Princesses and queens,

Gods and mortals,

Joys and sorrows,

Creators and destroyers.

And they all continue to shape the very being I am today.

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When I am Older

When I am older

I will get three butterflies

Tattooed on my wrist

To symbolise all

The three times I went too far

Both marks on my skin

One made for beauty

One made to help me through Hell

But both born from pain

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I want to go home

And so here I am

At yet another party

And I want to leave

I am here for her

Happy sixteenth birthday friend

But I’ll leave for me

Two hours and gone

After all they’re her friends

None of them are mine

I leave feeling numb

My crush didn’t give two shits

Not even a ‘bye’

Well goodbye as well

To any a would-be kiss

Maybe someday soon