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Rachel Watson Apr 2020
Every love song reminds me of him
I imagine us dancing to them.
A montage of us laughing and him
Twirling me in “I love you’s”plays
Keeping to the rhythm.

I want to be his, but we only exist in
My dreams.
I see him when my eyes shut or when I’m staring
Into space while thinking of him
And what could have (be)en.

When I awake or the music stops playing
I try to be happy
But the words are stuck in my head
Following me through the day.

Will I ever get over him or will he always drive me crazy?

He is my guilty pleasure,
The song I hate to love.
Can I bring myself to stop listening?
Or will I always be stuck?
Rachel Watson Jul 2018
Going to bed at 2am is asking for trouble.
I lie awake,
my thoughts all jumbled.

I think about something that happened ten years ago,
things that could happen in the future,
and I cry.
I begin to question my path in life.
It doesn't seem like anything will get better with time.

I glance across the room,
my sister is awake too.
We chat in the half lit room about the thoughts preventing us from sleep.
She closes the window,
and through the blinds I notice the sky is already
a light shade of blue.

She settles back down in her bed,
rubbing her leg which is an angry red, (wear sun cream kids)
complains about the pain,
and how it is keeping her awake.

She tries again to sleep.

I think about doing the same,
the seagulls outside exclaim that it is morning,
but first and foremost
I must finish writing this poem.
Rachel Watson Jul 2018
My identity is found in Christ,
the son of God who rose to life
overcoming death.

The one who sacrificed himself for you and me,
so that we could be free from sin and guilt.

He is not a distant figure,
he does not tempt or lead me astray.
He gives me a reason to smile,
cheering me up on my saddest days.

I love celebrating every moment with him,
like when my Mum became a Christian.

Sometimes I doubt, and I feel stupid when I do,
because God always comes through.

I am not perfect and I constantly make mistakes,
but he is still there
loving and holding me.

He is the peace after a storm and a strong wind
all at once.

I try to follow Jesus' example every day,
through my actions and what I say.
I want to accept and love others,
despite what they do to me.
Just as Jesus loved those who sent him to die.
He suffered so much so that we could have eternal life.


My identity is found in Christ, the son of God,
and a friend for all of time.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Rachel Watson Jun 2018
I feel like there’s something wrong;
You’ve been distant lately.
I admit I’ve been distant too,
but it’s because I don’t want to
bother you.

You always want to know if I’m: upset, angry or sad.
But you’d never tell me if you were feeling like that.
If you ever need to talk,
I’ll be here.
You know that.

I don’t want this to be a one way road,
but one going back and forth.
I need you but do you need me to?
Do you realise how much I care about you?
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Rachel Watson Jun 2018
I bask in moments of still:
The simmer before the boil,
The deafening silence that comes before great applause
after a performance.

I experience several moments like these with you.
The tips of our noses touching before our lips do.
Staring in to each other’s eyes,
while lying side by side.
Waiting for your train to arrive, and when it does, watching and wondering which door will reveal you to me.
And when I finally see you, walking up to you calmly
but quickly.
While, in my mind, imagining running up and immersing you in a hug,
Like in a scene from a film.

I cherish these moments of still,
As much as I do the ones that come after them.
They are not just there to build up anticipation to the best moments,
But are great in themselves.

The stillness highlights the love we have for each other,
And I pray that, together, we will have a lifetime more of them.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Rachel Watson Jun 2018
If I don't get an 'A' will you view me the same; an intelligent girl who will accomplish great things?

Will you be let down?
Expectations crumbling to the ground,
like a majestic castle
once standing tall,
now barely seen at all?

Will you envy the gold in my peers' hand, while I hold the bronze?
As they get the roses and I the thorns?

If I don't get an 'A' will you view me the same?
Or will you be ashamed?
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

— The End —