Dressing Room Scribbles (A Poem)

Crushes of sulphur,
You pull me back in.
Set fire to my fingers,
Spread ink on my skin.

Crushes of sulphur,
Compare me to her.
Note all of my niggles,
Where hers don’t occur,

Crushes of sulphur,
I am pulled back in.
I let you spread fire and ink to my skin.

As always, than you for reading. If you enjoyed this leave a like or tell me what you thought in the comments. I post a lot of writing on my Instagram, which can be found here. Love, Ross Lynn.

Ode to a Fuckboy

I’ll think when it gets light outside,

But know that I’ll feel just the same.

The way you made them feel inside;

Those smiles,

Those curls,

Those girls,

Those names.


And who am I to change the scene?

To get you stuck? To make you stay?

When every bright eyed minx before,

You’ve simply kissed and ran away.


I know that I can take some pain, 

A broken heart, am ache or two.

But when it’s a repeated scene,

It means it’s not just me or you.


I’m well aware that that’s the game.

The sun won’t shine for one, it’s true.

But what I can’t take is the shame,

Of knowing I’m just one to you.

Ross Lynn

Thank you so much for reading, more of my writing can be found on my Instagram here.

Breathing – Diary Extract 5

I don’t think people take into account, not how hard it is to study or to work with depression, or even to function with it. But the effort and energy required to merely exist. To wake up in the morning and say “All I have to do today is breathe and make no attempt to try and stop and if the sun goes down today and I’m still breathing, then I have succeeded”.

Ross Lynn

Thank you for reading. Find more of my writings on my instagram.