leave me alone

i can smile all i want
bare bone disingenuously
go fuck yourself
you are horrible
leave me alone
its more than i can bare
leave me out of this
save your bullshit
i have to smile
im trapped here
you dont have to be a cunt
why should i care
leave me alone
civility is not challenging
just fuck off

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Worth It?

If you cared for your life you wouldn’t be here,
my eyes are not worth your time.
It’s a crazy notion to think I’ve made it this far,
where am I to be when I am discovered?
When those around me realise I’m not worth it.
Picking at the dry skin around my fingernails,
alone and doubting my rhyme and reasons,
what would it be like to believe in yourself?
I can’t even begin to imagine how it feels,
a town centre is a world of dread to me,
naked and observed ad-hoc by everyone,
judged in the same horrid way I judge people.
Hypocrisy to a blessing and a curse,
the strongest shield and the weakest link,
always pretending
but I wish I didn’t give a fuck.

14/12/2015

endless ebbs a snaking a drowning
drained waiting undead
hopeful cords break my fall sometimes
a cold empty space in every room
the other they fear to converse with
some other variety of gloom
haunted by a homeless question mark
punctuation and grammar misplaced
a mismatch of tone and narrative
it aches all the time
soft cold air drifting down hard heavy
aimless pressure at winter dusk
the stationary feels heavy in my hand
rotting leaves rotting petals
branches out to catch and molest
bearing thorns waiting in dark
whispering on my neck we hate you
a poisoned kiss placed on nape
cliches in the dark as i walk home

Desperate Needs

My personality is shambolic,
I could cry at nothing right now.
A desperate need for something
to capture my imagination,
I’m hopelessly doubting everything
and I’m stuck in an otherworldly sense
of constant distraction.
Make everything dreamy I say to myself.
Please tell me a story.

Hollow & Eczema

Take it away from me,
rip it out of my hollow.
Death congeals at my feet,
the sky bears down,
wolves ripping at this corpse.
Rip it away from me
for i cannot deal
with this falseness,
not right now.
Tricks are being played,
longing for treats,
I used to love this time of year.
Skin blisters,
cracks and splits,
losing my fingerprints again.
Body reacting to everything
I can’t put into words
or won’t,
the cold doesn’t help.
I used to love this time of year.

Your Newton’s Cradle

Every experience you will ever have
will add to your own Newton’s Cradle.
Every pendulum added will swing into you
as you grow ever older,.
The slap of the clearest memory,
fading into the distance again.
Only to swing back and slap you again
when you least expect it.

An Unfinished Poetic Autobiography (Part 1)

Where to begin with such an endeavor,
a project to work on in fits and starts,
snapshots of my life to prove I was here,
a decent enough self-portrait or poetic autobiography,
Let’s start with nightmares.

My earliest memory is a nightmare.
giants, a storm and a strange woman i haven’t met yet.
My most recent nightmare was this morning,
cars and people swept away in a flash flood,
5am I awoke my heart beating so hard
to a ravaging thunderstorm outside our window,
the worst storm I have ever known.

The first lust I truly felt, 12, a friend of mine,
camping on the edge of a forest not far from home,
tall yellowing grass, adders and camp fires.
He was wearing shorts and nothing else,
hands idly down the front playing with himself,
sweating rolling down his chest and stomach,
brief glimpses inside his shorts as his hands moved.

My first cigarette, 16, drunk and in drag.
we were all dressed up for The Rocky Horror Show.
Covered in glitter and heckling people driving by,
lipstick smeared reckless abandon and a great show.
Purple walls, cheap wine and wrong kisses later,
the afterparty was truly a mess for those involved,
we still reminisce about that night to this day.

A weekend to cherish forever, 22, he met me.
He was 28 and so beautiful, we danced all night.
Making love and listening to records we loved,
mix CDs we had made for each other and our stories.
We made long distance work, we moved in together,
6 years later now and we’re engaged to be married…

To Be Continued…