I truly underestimated the power of a good ******

It's taken me a while to realise
but simple doesn't always mean happy
Back then was simple,
We were simple.
Two in love, the
other two in lust
It was nothing to make a fuss about
But We were simple
The rest of my life lay complex
So, your hands became my
escape route, your lips
a hiding place
And together we made a distraction
Just big enough to stop a ****, and
your hands became explorers
and together we mapped out
My naked body
Which, before you, I didn't think anybody
could want.
You made a tangled mind feel
Simple.
You made a scared child feel
Beautiful.

But I never let you really in,
never let you see, because
what I wanted to find in
you was me
dressed in simplicity.

And now that part of me is complex  
I've lost that group
That laughter
That lightness
But, what I have now,
Who I have now,
What it's made me
I wouldn't switch it for the world.
And
that choice, for mayhem,
That choice is simple.

I look around my home and
know I've made a place my own
Let me explain,
I've lived alone since aged 16, it's probably
better this way,
and I haven't felt regret, not now, not
Yet, hopefully never. Yes, pieces of pain and
bits and bobs of bitterness litter my hall,
I can't hoover it all, but
Regret? There was no point, there
was never another option.

So I've rearranged furniture, and I've
sulked in my room, I've cried, I've
wanted to die and I've lined up my
windowsill ready to watch snow.
I've watched lovers come and go, been
opened up, watched muck littered and
have thrown it all against the filled up
wall, wished mum's hoarding away.
I've stayed, this place is mine now.

And in the wreckage of my banishment
I've made a shelter of some sort and I've
guided others in, a brightly cluttered and warm
bin for troubles. I've sat them down and made
them doubles, sometimes they just want to talk
and sometimes they just want to sin,
usually they want arms which will allow them in
sometimes to wallow, and I've given
them a pillow and wished them to sleep.
I've watched people weep here.

And so my home becomes their's too.

I sniff and laugh
I've passed someone smoking ****

I've never been able to tell
the smell before, can't
Sniff
Smell
Tell
Well
Snort
Sort
Risk, a lingered puff.
I've always found it hard
to tell
when's enough
So I don't dar, but sometimes
I feel tempted to stare
into

simplicity.

We look like Tim Burton characters
In stature and mind.

Tell me a story, or I won't even blink,
I want you to take me to worlds that I
think I could find beauty in, places
to hide deep within like an inside
joke, or a laugh, or a path
to take into Neverland,
a bridge to Wonderland,
any land
as long as I can have you in it.

Tell me a story, fill my sinuses with stink,
I want to feel the ship I want to smell
the brink of desperation, to feel
a strange, secure, separation to
myself, filled with a wealth of
nonsense knowledge, take me
through foliage and laugh as I
bask in a seething sun,
come on, let's go, I crave fun.

Tell me a story, help me taste a
waste of time, I want to laugh a
rhyme and commit the crime
of uselessness and happiness and
bonkerness and silliness and fun
watch me run into a field of fantasies
tongue sampled teas and
smile at simplicities'
sanctuary.

Tell me a story, and allow me to touch
a part of your mind you let
locked away, darling, parent, sibling,
quibbling cognitive miser
tell me a story and you'll end up
wiser for knowing it, for imparting
it, let's party it and part with the
sweetest words of goodness,
I could hear from you

To be **continued

So, I want to make them happy
with me
with themselves

But I think I'm a bit **** at it

Like a mother picking up scattered
toys, there's always another piece of
lego to step on, always another
stubborn stain, and whilst
clearing you have to
activate your brain
because any
moment
they
might
trip and hurt
themselves again.

And if they do, you know, irrationally, that
in yourself you'll find the blame.
You're really trying not to show the strain,
because it won't help,
it won't heal, instead
rub your very bruised heel and
steel yourself for the next storm, recall
the times you've thought I can't go
on
and remember that you did.

Don't kid yourself, the
kids are alright
and you are too, allow
yourself to be one too.

Youth, after all,
is in the mind.

Try, for yourself,
for them,
Be kind.