Category Archives: spy tales

magnitude of rejection.

it was a stark realisation –
no magnitude of rejection
could outweigh –
not her body,
not her face,
not her laughter,
or intellect,
or humour,
or interests,
or skills;
in fact,
it was her love
they didn’t want.

it was too much,
it wasn’t enough,
it was too late,
it wasn’t the right time.

in fact, they didn’t want
to be loved by her.

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i n k.

i am giddy
with the thought:
pierce my skin,
release the ink –
again, again, again.

this addictive pain:
let them see it
saturate my bloody
and scar my skin –
again, again, again.

i am giddy
with the thought:
a secret life,
of torture and release and secrets –
again, again, again.

the spy lives on.


[o n e d a y] (ii).

in those days
you made me feel
so safe
and i let you
keep me warm.

these days
i beg the universe
to [one day]
allow me
to repay the favour.

[one day]
i’ll get the chance
to show you
i love you –
so much
my heart bleeds.


request.

there is the realisation,
that this is your life:
and you’ve spent more than half of it
wishing it was over.

take me now,
the tearful plea each night;

take me now,
the gutless desperation;

take me now,
so i can forget;

take me now,
before the game unravels;

take me now,
let this be the last time.


implode.

because
it feels like,
my heart
is still breaking
multiple times
in the day.

because
the pain
and grief
continue
to obliterate
my lungs.

because
every step
outside the shell
is opportunity
for panicked
collapse.

because
i have only
two gears:
self-destruction
or
cowering solitude.

because
why sleep
when the hours
are an anxious monotony
of every terrorising fear
and every disappointing flaw.

because
everything hurts
but “so it goes”:
still my heart beats
still my lungs inflate
still my brain implodes.


[divide].

there’s a monster growing in our heads
raised up on the wicked things we’ve said
a great divide between us now
something we should know 

there’s something to remember
and something to forget
as long as we remember
there’s something to regret 

something we should know
there’s a mountain higher than we knew
it’s high but such a bitter view
a great divide between us now 

something we should know
a great divide between us now
on different sides of a great divide

– “the great divide,” the cardigans.


sleepology.

eight hours
of blood
and salt,
pain and
humiliation.

eight hours
searching for
respite and comfort,
love and
approval.

eight hours
of desperation
and terror,
restless drama and
tiresome torture.


[okay]?

what happened?
it’s okay.

where did you go?
it’s okay.

how’s your heart?
it’s okay.

is it dark?
it’s okay.

are you alone?
it’s okay.

when will it stop?
it’s okay.

why not?
it’s okay.

it’s okay.
it’s okay.
it’s okay.
it’s okay.
it’s okay.


organ donor.

slice me open,
take my lungs:
they have overcome asthma;
broken the limits of anxiety; and
suffered the deepest grief and pain.
still i breathe.
take my lungs.

slice me open,
take my liver:
it was once clean and pure,
until annihilated in a moment;
but time and time over, proof of natural restoration.
still i heal.
take my liver.

slice me open,
take my heart:
it is cool to touch;
ice-like and made of broken stone;
simultaneously rough and fragile.
still i live.
take my heart.

slice me open,
take my [life].


t h i n k.

clichés are so
for a reason.

better to be lonely alone,
than lonely despite company?

“i think so,” she said.