A Letter to My Soon-To-Be Ex

22/01/2021 – Poem a Day Compilation



Dear John,



By the time you read this

I will have packed all my things

Into some boxes and suitcases,

And will be far, far away.



Normally, I think people should break up

Face to face – in person –

And not take the cowardly way out

Like I appear to have done.



In the instance, I’m all for it

And this is not hypocritical

Because you’ve made it impossible

For me to get out any other way.



When we met, I felt like a princess

Because you showered me with love

And while some people felt it was rushed

It just made me feel special.



You seemed a little insecure

Like a puppy that needs some love

And I wanted to build you up

So you saw the good in you.



But I couldn’t seem to do anything right,

Just small things that got under your skin,

The way I stacked the dishwasher

Or how I folded the laundry.



You were jealous of my ex’s

Even though I don’t see them any more

And if I was still interested in them

I’d have still been with them.



You wanted me to spend all my time with you

While also keeping the house running

To such a tight schedule

That I was exhausted by your demands.



I began to feel edgy and uncomfortable

Every time you came home from work

Wondering whether you’d want my time

Or let me get done with what I had to do.



If I said anything to you about it

You’d take it as a personal attack

Every small problem we had

Was blown out of proportion.



You said my friends were against you

And poisoning my mind

So you’d come up with any excuse

For me to not spend time with them



You couldn’t tell me exactly

What any of the problems actually were,

Just vague accusations,

Your feelings so unclear.



I wondered if it was all in my head,

Maybe I was the crazy one,

Surely you couldn’t be so incredibly sweet

And so completely controlling.



You started drinking when you got home,

You said it was your way to relax,

But it just made me more nervous

Because it disinhibited you.



Your friends couldn’t see it

They just saw a charming guy

Who appeared to love his girlfriend

And was generous to a fault.



But I would walk on eggshells

Absolutely aware of my every action

Making sure that things were perfect

So you’d be in the best possible mood.



You had all the bills put in your name

Giving me a measly allowance

So I couldn’t do anything or go anywhere

Without asking for your approval.



You demanded not only my time

But access to my body

Giving me no ownership of the experience

Of when or where or what.



I was afraid of what you would say

And the things you would do

While feeling like I had nowhere to go

And no one I could trust to help me.



You’d raise your voice at me

If I dared to disagree

Thinking that being louder made you right

Even when you were in the wrong.



You’d call me sweetheart when we were out

And a bitch when we were home,

The other names you called me –

I can’t even bring myself to write.



Sometimes I felt like I deserved it,

Like I must be a pretty bad girlfriend,

And that I needed to learn these lessons

But I wasn’t sure about your methods.



But it dawned on me that your threats

Said more about you than they did me,

And your intimidation was unhealthy

And I had to get out of your grasp.



I’ve tried to leave before

But you couldn’t see how you were,

Blaming me for your actions

And denying any fault on your side.



So now I am emotionally broken –

Numb, helpless and depressed –

But I am away from you

And you can’t drag me back in.



What little money I squirrelled away

I used to pay for a motel room

So I could clear my head of your toxic thoughts

And replace them with something better.



But it was also a place to hide

Where you couldn’t find me

To berate me or humiliate me,

And I could finally breathe.

A Letter to Myself

30/11/2020 – Poem a Day Compilation



If I wrote a letter to myself

From me as I am now

With all the knowledge that 40 years brings

To my teenage self

Who thought they knew it all

And probably wouldn’t listen

It would go something like this:



Say yes more often when you’re young

But not so much when you’re older

Opportunities should be grabbed by the horns

But as we get older, time becomes precious

And knowing what will bring you joy

And what will bore you to death

Is a wonderful skill to have.



Don’t worry about what people think of you

Because most of those people won’t matter

Not in five years’ time, nor in fifty years’ time

So, choose wisely whose put downs you hear

Take the insults with a smile

And be gracious in victory

Because everyone battles their demons differently.



Follow your dreams wherever they may go

And don’t let anyone try to pigeonhole you

Into being someone or something you’re not

Because you’re a long time an adult

And doing something you don’t want to do

Just to pay the bills

Is hard slog until retirement.



Find your people

The ones who make you shine

From the inside out

And who share your excitement

Even if they don’t understand it

Because having someone there

Who offers that is magic.



Don’t let the excuses you make for yourself

Tie you down or hold you back

When you know what you’re capable of

When the world is your oyster

And when it’s your own voice betraying you

Because you could be great

If only you let yourself try.

Dear Reader

06/09/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



Dear Reader,



If I might have your attention

For a mere moment in time,

I have something important

That I must impart to you.



A writer’s job is not an easy one,

It is filled with dread and uncertainty

But is also the most fulfilling,

Bringing joy and a sense of success.



For myself, I do not write for money,

I do not write for fame and fortune.

I write because feeds my soul

And sets my spirit free.



I can communicate with my inner self

And discuss the world around me;

I pour out emotions onto the page

And am filled to the brim again.



There is no right way to write,

No perfect set of instructions.

There’s no time of day that one must use

Nor a style to which you must stick.



Be a novelist or write comic books;

Be a screenwriter or be a poet;

Be whatever writer you want to be

Or be all of them if you so choose.



Whatever you do, dear reader,

Just enjoy what is before you,

For it is a work of art, and heart,

Of which there will never be another like it.

A Letter to Dee

24/07/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



I might, if I may, dabble

In the dainty art of poetry –

Though you may prefer a dance for two

With a dandy, or someone more dapper,

Someone more daring that would call you darling:

A dashing lad, dauntless from dusk to dawn

Who will dazzle you, my dear,

And be far more debonair and decent

And decisively declare his love for you,

But I would decorate my world

And dedicate it to you,

My deep affection for you defiant

Though deftly shown in delectable ways -

A deliberate move, so delicate and delicious,

To show my delight and deliver to you

A deluxe experience

Demonstrable of my dependability

That depicts and describes

The care you deserve.

If I could design a way to show my desire

You might be destined to detect

And determined to develop

A way to devise the depth of my love.

It would show how devoted I am to you,

That you are my diamond,

The difference between my happiness

And my dignified sadness,

Your dimple shining in the night.

I could be so diplomatic,

Direct and disarming,

A discerning disciple of your radiance,

But I fear to disclose the entirety of my affection

Lest you discover the hold you have over me.

I can discretely discuss how you make me feel

In a formal dispatch

And dispense good advice any time.

I would only display my fondness

In a distinguished manner

Without distracting anyone in the least.

You are, to me, a divinely created doll

Donated to mankind to dote on,

Doubtlessly enchanted

By your down-to-earth nature

A visage that any artist would wish to draw

And any mere mortal would care to dream

Of you in a flowing dress, drink in hand,

Driving every one with a pulse wild

With your dulcet tones,

Leaving many a great mind dumbfounded

As they listen dutifully,

To you talk of dynamic ecosystems.

And all the while I duly bide my time

For five minutes alone with you, my dear.

A Letter to a Lover Never Known

If I could but send this letter
So much happier I might be
Knowing that you sought to receive it
And thought warmly of me.

My hand trembles at the notion
Of you laying eyes upon these words
I that I have crafted so carefully
As a sculptor carving feathers on wooden birds.

I drift through my imagination,
Stopping but here and there;
A tourist in my own mind sometimes,
Going beyond that which I thought I would dare.

But as I write these scant lines to you
My heart skips more than an occasional beat.
It races, it jumps, it stops in my throat
And plummets as if through my feet.

As I pen these words I long to say
My stomach turns itself in knots.
I grow giddy with anticipation
And before my eyes I see spots.

The ink seeps lovingly into the page,
A little rushed but none too soon.
Too long I have waited to tell you
And, the thought, how it makes me swoon.

So won't you forgive me this letter I write
For it comes completely from the heart.
I mean to cause no tension
Nor to prise any relationship apart.

I do not wish to be selfish or greedy
Or demand what isn't rightfully mine.
My intention is not to make you feel guilty
And I apologise if I have crossed a line.

But I cannot bear the thought
Of living always chasing a dream,
For no man can live up to the thought of you -
Your qualities are a recurring theme.

I must find a man who is funny,
Who's wit is beyond compare -
He must have me rolling in the aisles
And smiling in the depths of despair.

He needs to be handsome, but naturally so,
With a twinkle in the corner of his eye,
but without a notion of the superficial
And doesn't ogle every woman who goes by.

There must be some intelligence to him,
I couldn't bear an oaf, a lout or a clod.
A love of literature, music and fine arts
But not a snob or beastly sod.

A touch of romance wouldn't go astray
As long as it is genuinely bestowed -
A gift from the heart that is true
And not given in order to be owed.

If he could whip up a dish in the kitchen
Of a morning or later at night
I would lose my heart in an instant -
Faster than love at first sight.

He should be in control of his emotions
But not keep them bottled inside -
A man who stands for what he believes in
But won't be swallowed by his pride.

Lastly, he should be available,
Not already somehow attached,
Because I cannot suffer the struggle
To fight for a perfect match.

To these years, more than a decade,
I have given of myself every day
Without thought of reciprocation
Except in daydreams along the way.

I have never expected, asked or demanded
A return on my investment in you;
Even now I cannot fathom that you would
And it does not make me feel blue.

I have known all along, my sweet,
That what we have is all in my mind.
I oft thought that it would dissipate
And be all but left behind.

It never has been, though.
It stays and lurks and grows.
I hide from it and deny it
And fear the whole world knows.

So please release me from this torture
That I enjoy so much.
I am spoiled for all future loves
Without ever having felt your touch.