This poem is from my collection ‘Wallflower’ and it’s one of the most personal ones. Yes, it’s about a one -night-stand. Yes, it’s about a woman. Yes, it’s about the complications of falling for somebody and the complete ins and outs of love.

I hope you enjoy the taster. If by any chance you’re interested in purchasing a copy of the collection, it’s available here.

Wallflower is a journey through self-discovery to the realisation of the world around you. It is a greeting to those with a fear of belonging, an invitation to outsiders looking in, warm hugs to anyone who has ever loved and lost. A collection of twenty-one poems, brought to you by a fistful of passion from a chaotic mind.


I danced with the hottest girl in the bar.
The filmstrip still runs through my mind.
There were lipstick cigarettes put to rest,
wandering hands, blonde hair falling
upon the chest she was flaunting,
Bowie was playing and we were both
pleased about it, singing, using
each other’s breath for support,
when the beer wasn’t doing its job.
We were kissing when the time was right,
waiting for the neon lights to flash
every seven seconds or so and each time
there was that daggering smile again.
Beautiful woman, in the centre of
the dancefloor of my life.
Always in the centre – through
a crowd of bodies fighting for music
we almost never hear.
Did I mention that she was beautiful?
I noticed this more when her
party dress lay lifeless on her
bedroom floor, before the shoes she wore
dug their heels into my memories.
Kicked off as soon as we entered
the front door.
And as she slept, I couldn’t.
I had seen us in the mirror,
and we didn’t look perfect.
And love never is perfect.
And I left before it could have been.
I walked with the pain in the pocket
of my black skinny jeans,
and left the torn-off buttons from
my shirt, sinking into the carpet
we partied on.
I managed to make it through
the dancefloor of my life, but
I keep turning out my pockets for love.
Just in case.

Leave a Reply