the letter I didn’t send.

I feel quite a lot of resentment towards you right now.

Because I feel used.

Because of the fact that, as I understood from your messages, this thought had been at the back of your mind for a long time, so you could have brought it up any of the times that you came over. And knowing that you were thinking this the whole time, makes me feel even more like an idiot.

Finally, because of how you handled it. It was just really upsetting and inconsiderate. I understand that it feels liberating to finally say what has been on your mind for so long, but I feel like you just didn’t think about me at all in that moment. To suddenly receive these texts out of nowhere while I was in the middle of hosting a party for people, just meant that I couldn’t even process it and that I didn’t know what to do with myself. And the fact that you couldn’t wait and then come over, and talk about this in person, but rather just wrote these throw-away facebook messages is painful.

When you’ve become attached to someone and you care a lot about them, to realise that they don’t really give a damn about you just fucking hurts.

So I’m sorry, if I’m not feeling particularly friendly at the moment.


I’m tired of feeling like shit.

Time to give up on love for a while.


Looking in the mirror,
Recognising the familiar expression,
Love gets in my eyes,
It’s making me cry.

Passing my hand over my cheek,
I still remember your touch,
Passing my fingers along my collarbone,
I still feel your kisses there.

I missed you tonight,
No comfort from cigarettes,
Can’t help looking back,
I want you to stay.

Wanting to relive every moment,
We spent together,
Now dreams of distant smiles,
Looking for what seemed out of place.

A room of changing colours,
Has turned dark,
No more time,
There’s only an echoing goodbye.


Our candlelit shadows on the wall,
You held me close and poured out your heart,
Dancing in my arms until the morning light,
Eyes closed,
Just the two of us.

My whole heart wasn’t enough,
The nights spent waiting for you were worthless,
You wanted me to change,
And I did,
Yet here we are.

I don’t mean anything to you anymore.

You thought that one message,
Was enough to end this,
That it was decent,
That it wouldn’t tear me apart,
That it was the right thing to do.

While I stood there amongst people,
Reading the words,
Forced to push through the day,
With a fake smile,
Trying to understand how you could be so cruel.

I resent you and your mind,
For hurting me again,
For making me feel used again,
For feeding my delusions,
For giving up on this.

Love in Motion.

It was unexpected.

The way in which you came into my life,
Unlocking a door within me,
Which had been closed for a long time.

You ripped apart the sombre melody,
A tune to which I had been
Living day by day.

Pulling me out of my closed-in living,
You’ve made me want to give up my vices,
And venture out into the terrifying and exciting.

Every moment with you is a dream,
I want to cherish and remember,
On nights when you’re not here.

You told me to turn off the light,
Only our breathing in the darkness,
Your hands feeling the curves of my body.

Whispers of encouragement and affection,
As you showed me your world,
To help me see why mine was flawed.

Feeling my insecurites slip away,
Drops of venom,
Which had been eating away at my mind.

It still seems surreal.

Give Me Tonight.

This is a compilation of sentences from my diary. Somehow it turned into a quasi-poem.


Spending summer nights dancing alone,
Wishing you were there with me,
Looking out the dusty window,
On the passersby,
Imagining you by my side.

In the harsh morning light,
Your bloodshot eyes,
The slightly greying hair,
Being incredibly shy again,
Wanting to hold you in my arms.

As you were about to leave,
You said,
‘Thanks for putting up with me’,
Oh not that difficult,
When you really want to, dear.

All I want is to drink and talk with you,
The smoke from our cigarettes intertwining,
Have you sleep next to me again,
And if that’s not beautiful,
I don’t know what is.

Just can’t be anything other than who I am, I suppose.