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Birdie Jan 25
I make lists
Throughout the week
Each night before
I go to sleep
Monday is usually blue
Tuesday green
And Wednesday too
Thursday can be blue or red
Fridays purple
In my head
Saturday is a happy yellow
Sundays beige, calm and mellow
I make my lists
To get me through
So I remember what to do
No idea why I wrote this, but here’s a little insight into my life!
Birdie Jan 25
I’d love to say
I’ve no idea
But unfortunately
I’ve many
I’d love to say
I’ve plenty of cash
These days
I’ve barely any
I’d love to say
I’ve grown up strong
But really
I’ve grown small
I’d love to say I’m worth it
But it seems I’m not at all
Another outpouring of utter nonsense
Birdie Jan 21
It’s a chasm of nothingness
A gaping void that doubles in on itself
Like how I imagine a black hole would
I’m in it and I am it
Can’t see into it or out of it
It makes me heavy like a wet towel
Thick and slow like dripping tarmac
It is pain and it is anaesthesia
Feeling nothing and everything
Dragging myself through days and weeks
With proverbial broken ankles
Stumbling into potholes and falling
Flat on my face
Over and over again
Till the sun comes back
Just me being a drama queen about how much I really don’t like the winter
Birdie Jan 19
‘Are you okay?’
Said the brain to the heart.
The heart screamed ‘NO’
Back up at the brain,
The brain rolled its eyes to itself
and said to the heart
‘get a grip’
Birdie Jan 15
I could be at the lowest depths
The most sunken death
But when I see the sea
That’s when I’m free
Birdie Jan 13
I’d prefer devastation
To this desolation
I’d rather feel it all
Than to feel this empty
No tears left, no screams
Just the fakest smile that
Gets me through the day
Till I’m home
And I’m blank
Birdie Jan 13
I want the love notes
The candle lit bath times
I want running in the rain
Laughing in the middle of arguments
I want the wild poetic love affair
The movie scene whirlwind
I want dinners gone cold
Because we were too busy talking
Missing the train, running out of petrol
Never caring because we’re together
I want to love so much it’s almost hate
Care so much I almost don’t
Then I want to slow down
To sit in the garden in matching chairs
Drinking lemonade and swapping smiles
I want to giggle over grey hairs
Cry together as all our friends die
Then hold hands as one of us does
Maybe one day I’ll get it
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