Oh handsome monster
You don’t need to explain the pain you’ve caused
I already knew you from my neighbours past thoughts
I unhinged on you my nonviolent fringe
Where a ****** of crows cannot see me through my own soul
And there I laid upon my own cloud nine
Where you could not fathom those simple dreams of mine
Of mine to be with another soul
That’s unlike of me when you came in and I didn’t want that

It’s an addiction
not a lifestyle
or a choice
We’ll say ‘’just this once’’,
but it doesn’t last forever.
So, we’ll try again to see if it works this time.
Alas there’s an endless supply to try again,
Or so we think.
I thought it would be cool
To have a fascination with scars -
Of the Mind and Body
We’ll treat it just this once
“Don’t worry we can fix it”
Can we fix it?
No, I have to.
Just give me some Kool-Aid and boiling water
I gulp it down, but it leaves red stains -
on my arm and around my mouth
I burn my teeth. They’re red too
Don’t worry I’ll change the colour
So it helps you to see
I won’t part from my agony,
It’s not enough to know I’m here.
Let me rot in the corner with my own thoughts and it’s shadows to consume me.
Leave me to my devices made from cold sharp edges
And flames that are sparked by no desire to live.
And I’ll sit quietly
To see if people look my way
No, they look ahead
I find it pretentious to think of.
It’s an addiction
Not a want or a choice
but a feeling to do so.

I’ve grown accustomed to the want and need of this house
It’s clear that its full of memories
Things are not what they seem
They are no reasons for me to stay here anymore
There is no reason for me not to leave
I can’t show off any more scars you left behind on me
So please
Whilst there’s light on no ones there and it’s gone
All the strings that had me tangled and wrapped up
You had me blindfolded with the wools pulled over my eyes
You had the apple from Eves garden to stifle the scream I had
You had headphones on me to drown out the outside world
Then when I thought we were safe I let my guard down and trusted you to create memories for me to remember and discarded the ones that had me in tears
This isn’t love
That was trap

My thoughts do rove over conversation in the past
Such thoughts do linger
And creep round my tongue fast.

Herding them to the back gates and locked them there
Some manage to slip ‘round and through.

They’re a black mass of goo that float and stain everything in reach.

However many laughs that I have or stare at people in awe
There will still be that lingering thought floating in the back of my mind, staining.

With thunderous bang of a distanced drum, I still feel it

My eyes do wonder though there’s nothing to wonder about and my mind a blank slate but covered with the black goo

I want to feel ugly
I want to feel ******
Useless to myself on Thursdays
Let me push myself away
I don’t wanna suffocate right now
I need an oxygen tank
Let me breath myself in
Let me feel myself again
Let me look at myself in true reflection
The perfect and imperfection
And let me look at them
I never thought this was vital
Of my true revival

Until I’m here - no, don’t wait

I danced with a boy today.
He was lovely.
He was gentle and kind.
I held him close to me and felt his breathing against my neck very quietly, but hesitant.
We danced around in waltz and danced like crazy.
We were looking like idiots.
But I didn’t mind.
He would step on my toes every now and again but I didn’t mind it.
I like him too much to say anything.
But he would of course apologise to me and say he likes me too.
He’s just a bit clumsy that’s all.
This was our first date.

I married a boy today.
He carried me home in bridal style which is very fun.
We’ve settled in a new spot and made plans for honeymoons too.
We’ve made plans to go somewhere nice but he didn’t want to anymore.
But that was fine by me.

I’m pregnant but he is hardly around anymore because he’s off working or with friends.
But I don’t mind as long as he’s happy.

He came home one night and hit me.
It was an accident of course because he was drunk.
I’ve got a black eye.
It’s technically purple and blue but nothing a little make up can’t fix. Right?

I have a son. His name is beautiful but He wanted His son to be called something else.

He’s angry at me for not cooking food on time.
To be honest I have been quite lazy since the baby arrived. I’ve not done the housework or cooking.

He came back angry again tonight he had to sleep on the couch.

I’ve been hit again. he wanted me to cover it up and he says he’s sorry so it’s fine.
My son turned 2 today we had a chocolate cake and it was delicious.

Me and Him went out for drinks to celebrate His birthday with His friends.

They were lovely.

We danced again.
Don’t know how long it’s been since we did.
We danced like crazy and we didn’t look like idiots this time.

He said he wanted to drive but I was the sober one.
He hit me too hard this time and I hit the side of his car denting it.

Sorry.
For denting  your car.

I'm dancing with a boy today.
He held me close and said ”I like you”.

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack

Magnified vision, tight body structure, scrunched up hair with fire for a face,

It spews loud language and is accompanied with its infamous sharp swords that stabs your brain,

As you are to be gluttonous with thousands of words  and later to be bulimic on dots and circles,

They can go both ways with extreme tendencies to use loud language or to say that they are force-feeding you,

As you are supposedly to be gluttonous or the lapdog or to be the destructive or the impatient or to be the dumb one,

I mean we all know where we are Placed on the hierarchy, the scrunched-up-hair knows where the destructive ones go, but they’re just bored what else can they do?

And all the same with the dumb ones to be put at a slower pace, but they can’t help that, people just don’t understand that their brain is faster than their hands, what do you think of their handwriting?

And I don’t love lapdogs because they’re loud and do everything you tell them to,

This is mainly because they scare them selves that they’re not trying hard enough and it’s never ever good enough to the see one result that their owner are good with, basically, try-hards,

And this is what the tight-body-structure comes in to, full of these and more.

Then they are ones that don’t spew loud language or have tight body structure and instead have novel face, bejewelled hands and wild hair.

Theses ones speak with laughter and love because they know that is how it should be,

But, sadly, I feel like it’s taking over them and that they learn the hierarchy too well it becomes to a point with just one movements that you are done for.

Tell me, if we all had the same teacher teaching us how to be smart, then if not our parents, teach us love and passion,

What if they taught us how to speak our minds or is that not what they’re doing?

What if the teacher taught us manners or is that not what they’re  doing? Is that how you teach manners to some? You lock them up in solitary confinement but is that teaching how to be kind or is there no time for it?

Is that how you teach?