Three's a crowd // poem

19 April 2017

Three's a crowd. They always said
But I had too much faith.
Too much care meant
I made the bonds and the braids

I was never the one picked up
Always picking up the broken
Too much care meant
My wound was always left open

I lifted their hands into the air
To watch the thrill on their face
As their answer's applauded
But too much care meant
My answers were never awarded

Always the peacemaker. Always
The puzzle piece to join hands together
But too much care meant
My connection became a tether

The spokesman and the listener
The careful and the brave
Ever notice how too much care meant
they end up a step further away

I wiped their tears and used them
To build us bridges
But too much care meant
I was left on the other side of the river

To watch the passive and the unattended
Take their bows in place of the one who
had too much care.

My track record of threes
Spans for years, 4, 7, 10, 11 now 15
A lifetime of too much care means
I’m caught in a cycle, like the tide of a wave

Three's a crowd, but so is a pair
But being alone just feels unfair
So, if caring too much leaves me short of air
At least I can say I was the one who cared.

// Jeani

This poem is supposed to be read aloud xx


Summer Storm // poem

27 March 2017

Rays of light creep along hardwood floors
They seep through the cracks of open doors
Flood through the windows that have curtains flung back
They touch my skin you can still see their track

I reach a hand out, the light covers my skin
like a coating of paint. How can it be thin
When it pours down my arms and seeps into my eyes?
The thing about sunlight is that it surely dies.

Drops of water escape onto where I lie
But the heat ignites the once mizzling sky
Flashes of bright light scream in the air
I'm frozen in wonder as I watch them tear

Through the velvet sheet dropped across fields
Children peep through their lashes at the gods revealed
Shocked to my core as the sky inhaled
It spat out its fire like a bride unveiled

Then the moon brings the clouds across starlit skies
It breaks through my slumber. I watch the sun start to rise
Reds, oranges, pinks seep into the cotton
I sigh in wonder as the storm is forgotten

// Jeani



28 things I am thankful for

23 March 2017

1) I have a good family
2) I can go to school
3) I have a healthy body
4) Colour
5) My friends
6) I have a boyfriend
7) He thinks I'm great
9) I have a best friend in the form of my mum
10) Summer
11) The opportunity to grow mentally
12) Modern technology
13) My home
14) The education my parents have given me about living
15) Winter is going!
16) I've got a chance to start afresh next year at sixth form
17) The colour pink
18) Zara
19) Google and the answers for my homework that it gives me
20) My Claudia Tripp CD which arrived yesterday
21) The sun is shining today
22) The french language
23) Fear
24) David Tennant as the Doctor
25) Ed Sheeran's new album
26) I'm going to India
27) My FRIENDS box set
28) The number 28

 It's important to remember the good in your life, especially when you're feeling down. Challenge yourself to write a list of ten things you are grateful for everyday! There is so much good in the world, don't let it go unnoted.

// Jeani


Equals // Excerpt from a story I'll never write

14 March 2017

"ELLIE!" I froze. My reflection stared back at me in confusion as we tried to process the shout of my name from the street below. I furrowed my brows and tilted my head towards the window, hovering on the edge of my seat, heart hammering in my chest with confusion and fear. "ELLIE!" I knew that voice. "Oh no." I whispered as the flood of realisation hit me. I turned my head back towards the mirror and acknowledged my naked face and unwashed hair in horror as laughter erupted from the street. "Shit."

I could just ignore it... Defying all my instincts, I slowly rose from my stool and tiptoed towards the window in a low crouch before peering through my cotton curtains, hidden behind my bedroom wall. I drew in a breath as I saw the gang of boys on the pavement opposite my house: red caps facing backward, monster cans resting on the handles of their £10 scooters, adidas jogging bottoms hanging just a little too low. You know the type: think they're invincible, don't have a single functioning brain cell, arseholes by blood, bored and irritating. My 13 year old self was terrified.

As I stood, back pressed against the wall, I longed to hear the roar of my mum's car bump up to the drive or the blare of the television in the living room below to indicate that my dad was home, but nothing. Deafening silence. Deafening silence and the continuous, manic laughter from the boys who had now chosen to perch themselves on the curb of the pavement, waiting like crows for dead meat. Try to understand: my thirteen year old self was confused, self-conscious and a little too excitable for her own good, so when this situation presented itself to me, I was conflicted; I could just ignore them, but I knew if I waited much longer they would start throwing stones or calling me up just to freak me out. Plus, there was a small spark of excitement in the pit of my stomach that was urging me to go out and see what it was they wanted.  Ten seconds must have passed, but it felt like ten years had gone by while I stood by my window observing the boys who had chosen to annoy me on what was supposed to be a relaxing sunday morning. I sighed, dropped the curtain, sat back on my stool and surrendered to the inevitable by picking up my mascara brush and starting to apply.

In hindsight, I realise that we were more alike than we had assumed. At 13, we were both confused and frightened by a world where people judged you whatever you did. My perseverance and creativity was heavily mocked and criticised, which, despite my outward appearance of nonchalance, left me feeling scared and a little lonely. Their lazy attitudes and stupid hats were mocked but their embarrassment resurfaced in the form of anger and defiance, leaving us both frightened and confused. I knew they wanted me to be frightened, I knew they were the cause of my distress, I knew that I was an easy target, but I didn't know why. Perhaps we related to each other.

As I sat on my stool, I played over their teasing and mocking and humiliating in my mind and felt myself getting angry. They had no right to be here! I put down the mascara brush and looked myself in the eye. What the hell was I doing? I didn't need to be frightened of them! I pictured the scene: I would run downstairs and fling the door open, my face would be composed as I walk across the street, pause in-front of him then punch him in the jaw. There would be uproar. I would hear their shouts fade behind me as I walk away feeling powerful and satisfied, an equal. I smile.

I jumped off the stool and ran down my stairs, tripping over my own feet. I flung the door open. The shouts and sarcastic claps began to erupt as I took a few steps forward. My face was composed as I walked across the street and looked him in the eye. I stopped in front of him. For a moment, there was silence. I felt everyone draw in a breath as I stood there, frozen. I was so tempted, I could almost see the bruise and the tears welling up in his eyes. My hand itched; it would be so easy to do it, I could have the final say after all this time. Maybe I just wanted an end to this, because before I knew it, I was holding out my hand. A flicker of confusion passed across his features and he hesitated. Suddenly, he smiled and he held out his own hand. As I feel my hand hold his as we shake, the torment we put each other through is shared between us and acknowledged for the first time. Equals.

// Jeani

I hope you enjoyed this piece of creative writing based on an event from my life. Writing this put the whole situation at rest for me and helped me understand myself a little better. Thank you for reading!



River of Life // Verbal Spill

25 February 2017

So, it's nearly March. In a normal year I would probably say "blimey look how time flies, I can't believe it!" and then carry on with my day. This is not something I can do in 2017.

Every day is one day closer to my upcoming exams and that makes it very easy to feel like I'm being swept away in an ocean of paper and ink towards the inevitable. It's terrifying. It feels like I have no control, as if time is whizzing right past me and dragging me along with it.

My life is moving so quickly. I'm teetering on the edge of my future; my sixth form plans are in full motion which is leaving me excited but dizzy because the last thing I remember is walking into primary school for the first time. I'm still waiting for the day that looking in the mirror and seeing a fifteen year old ceases to shock me.

I know this is something everyone goes through, and I unfortunately know that this feeling is going to be mirrored in five years when I'm leaving university and teetering on the edge of a career. Nevertheless, it feels like I'm being pulled through rapids on a river and it doesn't matter what I try to hold onto I'm being pulled forward. I suppose that's just the passage of time.

Today I visited a wood where I used to go as a child. I reminded myself that the first time I came here was around eight years ago, which was a totally bizarre concept. The reason for that is, after all this time, everything is the same. The trees are the same shade of green, the pathways created by dog walkers remain, the length of the grass is still the same and the sky is the same shade of grey. It reminded me that although my life is charging full speed ahead, some things just don't change. This was my one thing to hold onto on my river and for one moment, a beautiful moment, this kept me stationary.

My entire life is changing and constantly morphing into something new, something different, and that's okay! My hair is darker, I'm taller, my face is thinner, my heart is full of more love than it ever has been, my life is more complicated than ever and yet it's as simple as it ever will be. But the roads I walk down, the shop I buy my sweets from, the building on the corner that was once a hairdressers but now isn't - these things will always be there. I can always rely on the world around me to stay, it might change, but it's always going to be here.

I think my message for today is this: you've got to go with the flow of your own  river of life, I know it might sometimes seem like it controls you or pulling you forward, but it's the one thing that's keeping you moving!

Maybe this post has been a ramble, but it helped me think at least

// Jeani








Lost chances // poem // Verbal Spill

6 February 2017

A never-changing photograph
Tinted so lightly with colour
But mostly monotonous gray scale
Like the crease of an old crumpled dollar

Change brought excitement and hope
My life was moving so quickly
I refused to be one who chose to mope
Then plans were painted over so thickly

Bubbling joy and suppressed excitement
Just going for the ride and the chance
But a single second of experience
Made my heart want to grapple for more than one glance

Daydreaming and thinking
Suddenly I want nothing more
How can only a week have gone by?
When it seems like years have passed over my door

I told myself I would not take the blow too hard
I guess truth be told I always knew it was coming
Yet disappointment sits lodged in my heart
The image is gone of what life was becoming

I try to convince myself of the positives
I always knew the situation seemed strange
All I can do now is accept the obvious
Life will go on as if nothing has changed.

// Jeani


High // poem

5 February 2017

Wild eyes and thrumming heart
Sounds like romance or alluring art
I smell smoke on their blatant lies
How can I help but roll my eyes?

Not my place. I cannot judge
I'm leaving soon but I can't budge
It nags the corners of mind
Like moulding matter I cannot find

I put my faith in them 
Four years together like a sewn skirt hem
But they pick each sewing thread apart
As if it does not hurt my heart

I feel disgusted; their indifference!
Justification - it's just plain ignorance
Searching for the next kind of high
Not bothered by those left behind

I hold the hands of those kicked out
At risk of their incriminating doubt
But I will stand for what I believe in
Regardless of what life has been

They bring their bottles to their lips
Its all I can do to not be sick
To watch them waste our years away
As if they cannot hear the things I say

Remember blackened lungs cannot cry out
It does not matter how loud you shout
The actions of your past catch up to you
Consequences always do

I know that I must rise above it
It's difficult I must admit
Watching those I've strived to protect
So simply and easily forget

Tap. tap. tap. Each footstep further away
Sounds grow distant I know I can't stay
A new path laid out right before me
I say goodbye to those who couldn't see

I will never turn back. Not now. Not ever
Because no matter what, I will remember
The way I reached up for the sky
While they found ways of getting high.

// Jeani