Saturday Morning

Waking up, me chirpy and annoying and you groggy pulling me in to you so close I could barely breathe,

I’d make one of my silly faces or something to make you laugh and ease you in to the day,

Pulling  my pyjamas on, I’d get up and put on a pot of coffee,

Then I’d make either pancakes or bacon eggs, it was the days before Avo on sourdough, you’d come and cheekily slap my bum and ‘help’ me finish breakfast

The best days were when there would be a 12 pm kick off and we’d stay pyjama clad to watch North London’s finest game on your 50 inch screen.

My legs over yours, skin on skin, cold bottle of lager in our hands. Still dressed in my pyjama t- shirt and shorts, placing bets over the score, the loser would buy tonight’s dinner and the winner would decide where.

We’d play fight over the remote at half time and argue over what to catch 15 minutes of, normally we’d settle on Hollyoaks repeats.

I’d pray our team would win so you’d be in a good mood, I’d check the score even when you’d gone to a game to decipher whether or not you’d need cheering up,

We’d go for dinner in the evening, you were a chef but adored Nando’s, occassionally if you were up early on Sunday, it would be a takeaway in front of the TV and now I kinda miss those days, where I could wake up with someone on weekends.



My god, you’re the one I still don’t know if I can forgive, the only one.

I still flinch when people touch my stomach and am reminded of how you punched me there.

I still remember you pressing my arm against a hot spoon or flicking a lighter over my wrist, I still don’t put burns under cold water, convinced that somehow I deserve it.

Bio oil got rid of those scarsĀ and marks on my skin but there are still many present in my mind.

Always thinking you could make up for it with a bouquet of 50 red roses, fancy dinners or taking me shopping. I thought those roses were terribly cliche even then but I wanted to love them so I did even though I will always prefer rainbow lillies. I still feel sick when I see a massive bouquet of red roses, they have never quite matched me, for they were meant for girls who believe in fairytales instead of creating their own and forgive anything because they’re too scared to stand alone.

But you’ve given me a voice as I rebel against everything you wanted me to be. I don’t take notice of negative comments of what I wear now, a lot of my friends are male, I go out and party and drink however much I want.

I speak up whenever I see injustice, when I argue with the men in my life now, I say what I have to say to them, I don’t stand there quietly and take it or sneak around them like I had to with you because you never let me do anything without your approval, I don’t even let them dictate how I get home. Although I still run, terrified that one day their hand may collide with my face just like yours used to. I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe in a room with an angry man but I’ve made peace with that and I remain thankful for the voice and feist that I have developed as a result of getting over you.

I really hope you’ve met someone who has tamed you, someone who could give you what I couldn’t: a family, a reason to buy a house and settle somewhere, to create something that isn’t as broken as where you came from. You had ambition and were always going to go a long way from that council estate your grandparents lived on yet that wasn’t enough, all you wanted was someone and something to call home. I hope you’ve learnt not to get jealous or manipulate because despite everything, I want to believe there was something good within you, that you weren’t a monster.

Shoutout to my Ex: Champagne in a plastic cup

Like champagne in a plastic cup, that was how they described us. We were full of expensive loving fizz on the inside, but outside we couldn’t quite match the inside.

But my god, we were in love weren’t we? Proper teenage sweethearts and we believed in us so much, despite what everyone else said: my parents, our peers at school, for a time we worshipped each other and wanted to expose our souls and never quite leave our little universe. We were almost famous at school, barely got a moment of peace but we found it somehow and survived the gossip.

My mother was not a fan of yours but I more than made up for it, I adored every inch of you  I could never see why she didn’t, now I can but I still disagree with her, please know that. You were too much of a downtown guy for her “uptown darling girl” but that just became another joke in our universe. I could and would never think I was any better than you, or you any worse than me just because your home life wasn’t so straight.

We couldn’t stay away from each other, we would wander through that small city we went to school in hand in hand swapping sides every now and then to make way for a milkshake or one of my handbags. Sneaking off to the woods in the hill but so we could still watch the sun going down over the lake, we were so happy, so absorbed in one another.

You really loved me and I, you for what seemed like a long time at that age, a strong 18 months until I got bored and felt suffocated, despite never letting anyone else get in to our world, eventually something did. Everyone was so shocked when we split up which is an attribute to how strong we once were, I think even me, even though I could see it coming.

I am so grateful to have experienced anything like that because hell, we would have done anything for each other and I don’t know how many people get to love that hard at that age or ever. I know it was the right choice for us to split up when we did and I hope you think it was too now, I hope you still play rugby and you are content with your life now.  My fizz was trapped in that plastic cup and the bubbles went flat, but drinks still taste good in plastic cups but we both had to mature in to a flute to find another to clink with.

Shoutout to my ex: Radar

I like the way you still keep one eye on me as we circle this room, we still never quite lose track of each other while in the same vicinity.

You would still jump to my defence if I needed it, you still hate that I talk to him, that he’s a close friend,

But we were only ever picture perfect, we are kept enclosed in that keyring at the bottom of a drawer somewhere and now you’re happy with her because she suits you better,

So now we admire each other’s beauty from a healthy distance

Thankful for the time we got together and everything we learnt from each other,

Still intrigued by your part of the world and I still want to go someday,

I still read articles you share and attempt to understand there even if you aren’t here to explain them,

Sometimes I catch a competition on television and I leave the channel on for little longer before I flick through,

I remember you getting excited over the olympics and us celebrating the victory of our teams in excited chatter.

We no longer share a bed but I still enjoy that across a room full of people, my eyes occassionally find you knowing we are still on each other’s radar.

I wish you the best and still respect everything you are.