It’s 1:42 am, and I’m in my room half asleep.

It’s 1:42 am as I listen to Billie Eilish and Khalid

in my room that is half lit by the rising sun past midnight,

in my room that is half lit by memories of every goodbye.


I cannot describe the peace and calm I feel,

hidden beneath the soul that screams.


In this midsummer night

the fresh cut grass pierces through my clothes,

as I lie entangled in the clear night and web of crystal thoughts.

But I have learnt to touch and caress,

I know how to put them on hold.

I have learnt to silence the void I embrace as my own


Is this a dream?

Because the stars don’t blink like liars now.

Did I fall asleep?

Because the night tastes too intense to be real somehow.

Is this the parallel universe?

What once hurt feels like rhythmic poetry and verse.


I think I’ll wait for the fireflies to rise,

knowing they too will leave me

and dissolve under this sky.


© That Girl in the Fray, 2018.  All rights reserved.


All the fractures I’ve displayed

I hate it when the sky is that vulgar angry red at night. It chokes me. It’s nights like these that touch my soul, when the night sky is deep black, deeper than the depths of the ocean below me when I once scuba dived. I can breathe and feel the stars burn patches on my erratic skin. I can swallow the moon whole. The grip of those hands doesn’t feel too close to my throat anymore. But this feeling is fleeting, like the fireworks that start with a horrific bang, startling me to the core. And they end in silence. Their moment has passed. The sky is dark again. The hands are back around my neck. Slowly and slowly, the grip tightens. Inch by inch. I gasp. Breathless.

I’ve always wanted what everyone on this planet has: to be wanted. To be needed. To be loved, passionately, without any bounds, without any cemeteries. I’ve wanted to be wanted, to be missed, to be desired, to be cherished. I’ve wanted to be noticed when I’m missing. I’ve wanted my silence to be noticed. I’ve wanted to be the colour red. But it’s red that I see now, although the sky is pitch black. It’s red that I see as the last of the air in my lungs leaves my body. Breathless. I gasp harder.

Why can’t I be wanted the way I want you? Why can’t I burn into your skin like the cold does with every wisp of air that hisses among the trees. Why can’t you see just how broken my skin is now, with next to nothing left to clothe my soul. Did I give away too much. Did I give in too soon? Breathless. I choke.

The moon is full. The sky is black. The stars burn lies a million lights away. I see red. Breathless.

© That Girl in the Fray, 2017. All rights reserved.


I fly

I wish words came to me as easily as you paint the world

the flick of your brush puts me to shame

I am humbled at the beauty you capture

I frazzle at the details of your strokes

I wonder how you have the power to make a blank canvas raise my hair


In the distance a robin is singing and I can feel your kiss upon my bare flesh

In the distance I am flailing and falling

because you are not here with me

I might just fall into the sea


But here you are!

you are in this canvas I hold

your slender fingers moved over it like once they moved over my body

you captured what that picture of us together couldn’t


I tried to write it all down but I couldn’t

I quilled down how raw I felt when I was with you

The moon waxed but I couldn’t find the words for how I felt when we danced

and you pulled me close

I tried to imbibe the smell of your skin from when I hugged you goodbye

I failed

I fall and the sea seems sweet beneath my wings


But you with the flick of your wrist and the magic of your soul

Do things that I never can


In the distance I can hear Icarus being told

to neither fly too high not too low

But the sun is glorious and I love the air

The sun is glorious and you make me soar


Will the myth repeat itself?

Shall I too fly above the gods?


© That Girl in the Fray, 2017. All rights reserved.