The Bone Cage

By Lydia Teasedale

This is a collection of poetry in five parts which focuses on the following: love (the nicer side of it);
mental health issues such as eating disorders, self-harm, body dysmorphia, depression, anxiety; happiness in the little things that make us smile; love (the not-so-nice side) & a sort of miscellaneous section of poems about things like writing, friendship, butterflies, crows and rain.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781326403638

Book preview

The Bone Cage

The Bone Cage

Lydia Teasedale

Copyright © 2015 by Lydia Teasedale

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2015

ISBN 978-1-326-40363-8

Published by Lulu.

www.lydiateasedale.co.uk

for Tommy

who inspired me to finally write some

positive love poetry.

I’ll write my prose on your skin,

punctuating each sentence with my lips.

TIME-LAPSE

I knew I loved you when rose quartz crystals

began to form around my now-beating heart.

the passage of time didn’t slow the formation,

instead it quickened

(a sped-up video

of a flower blooming)

the more time passes,

the stronger we get.

I can’t help but feel surprised

every time I look at you -

how is it we keep getting

so much better?

MY MAGNUM OPUS

how many syllables

would it take?

what words can I construct

to do it justice?

how many sentences

would get the point across?

try as I might

I can’t write

you

GLOWING

I knew the air was cold

but my skin felt warm,

just for having you near.

the sky was an early dark

that I told you I adore.

when the days get shorter

and the nights longer

my heart just sings.

maybe it was that

that made me feel light and alive

(or maybe it was the wine

or the cocktail

or maybe

it was you)

I laughed inside at myself,

how worried I’ve been

and how afraid.

it was all there,

clear as night

in your eyes.

JULY TWENTY-FIFTH

L etters slide from lips

O nly to fall into ears

V ery gently, so softly

E nding in a blissful kiss

LOVE ISN’T

love isn’t a veil covering old scars

or a secret whispered on cold evenings.

love is open, naked and raw;

love is vociferous, impossible to silence.

love isn’t I wish I could or maybe one day

or a safety net when real life is too tough.

love is always, passionate and perpetual;

love is here and now, it’s you.

YOUR VISION

today I caught a glimpse of my reflection

in the dirty glass of the bus window and I was beautiful.

you wink -

I blink

(to make sure you’re really there)

I have to wonder if anyone was staring,

I was laughing too much to be caring.

you walked by,

close enough that I could smell you

and my mind emptied, then filled up with smoke.

you’re close enough for me to taste you

and it’s like the saltwater sea,

only better:

it ends, you don’t.

you’re always close enough

for me to hear

(a lyric, a gasp, a moan in my ear)

you wink

I think

you caught me in a microsecond.

COMPOSITIONS

I’m finding love to be

(among other things)

this insane explosion

of creativity, colours

and sounds rushing…

words whispering.

fingertips are brushstrokes,

tongues trace patterns like pens.

we are a masterpiece

together.

INFATUATION

you still make my heart skip

and words freeze on my tongue.

you bring a blush to my cheeks

and a sigh to my throat even now.

every kiss leaves me wanting another

and my greed leads me to demand it.

after all this time

I feel like I’m at the start,

just falling in love with you more

every day.

BRONTOPHILIA

the dark sky illuminates in sudden flashes -

I’m sure my room turned blue in an instant.

thunder crashes around me

and takes me back to the night

I first got to know you.

there was lightning just like this when you first bought me a drink.

there was thunder just like this when your lips first met mine.

since then, storms fill me with joy

and I hope they always will.

NATURAL DISASTERS

why would we want perfection?

we are storms held in human skin

we are a beautiful, fucked up mess

and I wouldn’t change a thing.

perfection means no variety,

no surprises and no excitement.

I want you, with all your earthquakes

joining all my hurricanes and flooding tears.

GUARDIAN

as I lie in bed I hear the faint sound of a laugh track

reaching me through the crack beneath the bedroom door.

sometimes I hear you laugh, too,

or couch or move around.

I imagine telling you this and I just know

you’d feel guilty for keeping me awake

but I’m grinning into my pillow.

this place used to be silent, frighteningly so,

the only sound my own heartbeat

(the vermillion frenzy racing inside)

now, I sense your presence in the other room

(sometimes I hate that I’m such an early riser

and prematurely retire before you)

now

I feel safe here.

(what monsters or ghosts would dream of intruding

with you as my protector?)

I lived here for a long time before I met you

but you turned it into my home.

I stretch out over the cool empty space

(your side)

it’s usually an empty, lonely feeling

but now that space feels like a promise:

you’ll be here soon.

MISSOULA

forget oral words and written letters,

I’ll read your smile and listen to your eyes.

stories will spill out –

[ and for a moment I think I see

the sparkling outline

of your thoughts ]

the still surface of my shiraz

brought to mind