megan-lacey-slade
"Hello, reader, and welcome to another collection of scrawled gibberish, scraped from the pages of the Guardian and fashioned into the unassuming paper brick you currently hold in your hands. I hope you enjoy the majority of what you're about to absorb." - Charlie Brooker
I bet I could convince myself I want to see you again
To get my hat back at least
But if I saw you again
I bet you could convince me it was a bad idea
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
Nothing in the fridge by whiskey and beer
Nothing in the cupboards but mice, rice and pasta
One cigarette to last me a month
The TV has been shut off
My couch has holes in it like me hat and socks
I wonder what my ma would say
If she saw that my wife had left me
With nothing but whiskey and beer and mice and rise and pasta.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
One of the things faith tells me
About how Two live my life
Is to love my Three neighbours
(Next door, next door but one and next door but two)
Even though one of them carried a knife.
Four it says in the old scriptures
To love all those around us
Even the MP's with their meals of Five courses
When there are people starving on the street
Begging for Sixpence for something to eat
And some people say that's greed
But I've got to tell you that makes me kind of...angry
Because how can we be free when there are Seven rules
To live by to shape our personality. SEVEN.
Seven rules to tell us how to live,
Seven days in which God created...this
And Seven things that are considered a sin.
But can I just say,
Who wants to worship a God, who does not feel love?
Who disagrees with passion,
And ***
And lust?
Who wants a God with a heart of stone,
Who would condem a person to hell
For feeling a little... alone?
And didn't God demand our love for him?
But why should we love this *****
Who is incapable of returning it?
And we should not eat or drink
More than is needed to keep us living.
Ha! I'd like him to take a trip down here
Where our monthy wage are the only things that are thinning.
He'd take one look at the girls of Birkenhead,
And throw up McNuggets all over their head.
But aren't we forgetting that he ordered his son
To deliver millions of fish to everyone?
Sorry but is that not gluttony?
Or was he just feeling generous that particular Tuesday?
He also demands that every person on this earth
Should follow his rules.
All Seven billion of them.
Simply Greed.
And if these rules are not followed
We shall be punished for it tomorrow.
So it says in John 3:36
"Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life,
But whoever rejects the Son,
God's wrath will remain on him"
So right there: God is a wrathful God.
Well, we might as well all go home to
...Fold our socks.
Because I'm sorry but I cannot believe
These are acts of compassion,
He floods the entire earth for not doing what he was saying.
Noah knows, you need only ask him.
And if we worship another God,
We are marrooned on an Island called Hell
Filled with all the burning souls,
Well take me there then
At least I know I'll meet The Rolling Stones.
So God is envious it is clear to see
And if we use his name in vein,
He gets even more pissy.
So he's got pride.
And Laziness is an obvious one,
To do his work he employed his Son.
**So let's do what we want,
Sin if we must.
What other ways are there
To have the utmost fun?**
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Even after everything
The moon does not envy the sun
Because the sun sees the fun
But the moon sees the love.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
Lets get elegantly ****** on wine
And make the last train just in -
Oh we've missed it
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 4:36 PM UTC
Was it supposed to be this way,
Or was there a fault in our stars?
A collision of worlds
That tore us apart?
I once read that it is not our stars,
But ourselves that hold the answer.
Was it fate that brought us here
Or was it simply chance?
Someone must be punishing me,
Punishing you
For a mistake we once made.
It may have been our foolishness
Of falling in love at such a young age.
Our lives, though limited,
Had so much more to give
To the world and to each other
But neither one of us can live.
The pain that demands to be felt
Is slowly breaking my heart.
And the constellations in the sky
Are my thoughts of you, turned into stars.
And looking up at the vast infinity,
Makes me realize you are mine.
I’m swinging on my garden swing
Kissing you as I kiss the sky.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
I’m happiest when I’m with him or in a good bookshop.
Because the power of words
And the look in his eyes
Makes me wonder what I was doing before he arrived,
Makes me question what I thought before those words
Changed my mind.
I’m happiest when I’m lost
In a world far from my own
Or listening to a story
Of the world he used to know.
And I feel I knew him all of my life.
And this dog-eared book I’ve read a thousand times
For the first time seems real.
It has stains from tears – I heard that means I’m alive.
With every turn of the page,
Every chapter
Something you never thought possible
Can turn a broken heart into laughter.
With every kiss he blows to me,
Every smile
Something you never thought possible
Makes a broken heart becomes worthwhile.
I’m happiest with a book in my hand and him in the other.
Because the power of words
And the look in his eyes
Makes me wonder what I was doing before he arrived,
Makes me question what I thought before ‘I love you.’
Changed my mind.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
You promised the world, and all the beauty it holds.
You promised your heart, and all you’ve ever known
You tossed aside, you got on the ride
Unknowingly, knowingly, ready to explore a love
You’ve never been shown.
You took his hand, and lead him to a castle,
You kept him warm for a little while.
He looked with disbelief as a glance over your shoulder
Removed any recollection of grief
His dog-eared heart had ever felt.
I’ve known him now around eighteen years
And the magic he found in you removed my fear
That he had forgotten how to love,
Forgotten what it felt like to hear
The music life plays.
I fear his ticket is soon to expire,
So please keep his heart on fire.
Keep him close and safe from harm,
Keep on riding for a little while longer
And shelter him from any storm.
I know you’ve loved and lost the same as him
And a new life is scary to begin from scratch,
But his heart of stone has begun to crack
And heal with your name engraved there,
So please, for me, love him the way he deserves.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
Fingers numb, struck dumb by the wind carrying your voice away.
Woolen scarves, cinnamon and apples,
Lights and snowflakes on your eyelashes.
Accordion players on the streets
Wrapped in a blanket, freezing for a couple euro,
Playing a song we all know. Your fingers
clasped around mine
Guiding me to a place in your heart,
A place you were too afraid to show
But a place you knew you’d go with me, only me
From the very start.
A frozen lake, with a dancing fire in the centre
Reflected from a cozy room of an apartment up above.
There’s wine and romance in your eyes as you look at me
Directly in mine. La Mer swimming in your mind
And an open bottle placed on the side
Of a piano lit by the moonlight.
Jazz players beneath the iced window
Playing through the night.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC