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5.6k · Dec 2014
Please don't ask
Laura Turner Dec 2014
“Do you have children?”
“No” I reply.
“Did you not want them?”  
What's with the why?
Oh I wanted them alright
But try as I might
Their father never materialised
So neither did they.

Don’t assume my career must have got in the way
Or hypothesize that I’m gay
So proud all you mums of your legacy
Well,
it just didn’t happen for me.
some of you think I’ve missed out on life
And to an extent
I’d agree this is true
But how many of you
Have seen as much of the world as I?
I think with a sigh,
At least I am free
But, yes at times
Incredibly lonely.

So please don’t ask that question as though kids are a given
BECAUSE THEY WEREN’T GIVEN TO ME
By anybody.
And I have to get on with life
Hearing that question
Which cuts like a knife

I'm sorry
It's fine
It just makes me sad
This reminder that I’ll never meet
The children that I never had.
lonely
4.1k · Dec 2014
DRUNK
Laura Turner Dec 2014
Unburden me my wiley friend from all my mundane woes
Release the threads that bind me here, submit me to your throes
Happily you blur the lines and change the days perspective
Mollify me with your lies and kindly dope objective.

It’s pleasant here, I have no care to change this altered state
Inhibitions lose their power to taunt me and berate
I perform well, I entertain, I please so easily
Popular I find myself within your potency

But soon I find the last drops have now dried up in the glass
Your soothing draft has poured its fill, your best has come to pass
And in its wake you leave for me a tender raw emotion
That carries me upon a wave of heady dissolution

The tears they stream, I am a mess, back down to earth I plummet
All former worries amplify now you have reached your summit
I was misled, you’re not my friend, a pariah in disguise
You sought to trick and confuse me put beer goggles on my eyes

So now into my bed I crawl to rest with bland submission
The toilet has already shared with me your vile emissions
I close my eyes I pray for sleep, my head already throbbing
I enter sleep in throes of self-absorbed,  repentant  sobbing
926 · Dec 2014
sleep
Laura Turner Dec 2014
Do not presume to think dear sun
To ****** away my dreams
The dark still holds me in it’s thrall
Within the great unseen

They will not lift these limbs of mine
They wallow in their weight
Enjoy the burden of their bonds
Refuse to animate

A captive to these strains of sleep
Gladly shackled to my bed
I revel in their sweet confines
My eyelids drawn with lead

I Self sedate with each warm breathe
Benumbed by this safe drug
Which toxifies my consciousness
I revel in it’s fug

I will not wake, I’m staying here
Please do not liberate me
Reality’sbecome too much
For me to cope with lately.
909 · Dec 2014
Untitled
Laura Turner Dec 2014
Your love is so fickle
Sometimes it shines
With a brilliance that’s blinds me
Some days it lies dormant
Imperceptible in inky shadows
Either way
I am left floundering
My arms held aloft
Bracing myself
For the inevitable
Fall
851 · Jan 2015
EVERYBODY’S FAMOUS
Laura Turner Jan 2015
WHY BOTHER LIVING
WHEN YOU CAN LIVE YOUR LIFE THROUGH OTHERS
WHO ARE ONLY TOO WILLING
TO POSTULATE, AND PUBLICATE
EVERY DETAIL OF THEIR FABULOUS EXISTENCE
INSISTENT
THAT YOU NEED TO SEE
THEIR SOULDS LAID BARE ON THEIR LATEST FEEDS
PRIVACY IS STRANGELY SKEWED
TO ALLOW EVERY RANDOM STALKER TO VIEW
INAPROPRIATELY INTIMATE MOMENTS
JUSTIFIED AS LONG AS YOU LEAVE COMMENTS
RE-AFFIRMING THE POPULARITY  
OF THIER EGOS SELF MADE CELEBRITY.
EVEN THE AVERAGE JOE CAN POMP, PREEN
AND SIMPLY BE SEEN
BY ALL AND SUNDRY
TO BE SUCEEDING, WINNING, LIVING THE DREAM
BUT ONLY THE VETTED IMAGES WE PERMIT
ONCE PHOTOSHOPED AND EDITTED
AN ILLUSION WE STRIVE TO SUSTAIN
TO SHIELD US FROM THE MUNDANE
TRUTH OF OURSELVES OUTSIDE OF THIS SOCIAL NETWORK.
677 · Dec 2014
POOR LITTLE ME
Laura Turner Dec 2014
You stole my heart, you took my dreams
And somewhere in the ground
You buried the very best of me
A relic to be found

But where do I start without a map
Their locale to trace
You left me not a single clue
As to their resting place

Must I trust that some brave pioneer
Will come solve this mystery
Risk the blood and toil no doubt involved
To dare try unearth me.

Well wait I will, but while I do
My bruised heart may just pine
indulge itself with thoughts of you
soak up the tears with wine.

Poor little me a violin please
To accompany my grief
But when I’m done please rescuer
Come restore my belief.
594 · Dec 2014
Untitled

— The End —