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assign me a piece of your mind and

to the bottom of my rucksack it’ll go and

its whispering will shake all the change and

bad and same i keep stuffed in there too and

send shrapnel singing straight at my heart but

don’t worry baby, it’s as tough as

brand new pleather and don’t fret sweetie as

though i don’t really have the funds as

long as what seeps ‘tween front teeth as

whispered ammunition is still friendly fire as

i hold your pan, i’m your darling refugee but

don’t feel bad about it honey 'cos

if you smile just right, then we’re a rainbow 'cos

i’m the sun and you’re just rain 'cos

hell is hot and raindrops have halos ( i said that cos

you can’t trust people not to get mixed up) but

please,

please,

don’t be offended

you aren’t the first person to be so dependant

please,

please,

cut the drugs that you’re taking

and send some to someone whose fingers aren’t quaking

please,

please,

pass me the ***,

consult a dentist re: bleeding gums,

please,

please,

just let me cry,

**** your equations,

don’t be so polite,

please,

please,

please go away,

don't pretend not to hate me

and promise to say

nothing at all

but what is true

“that ***** only gave me  

standard super glue”
Oct 2012 · 3.8k
A Topical Anti-Skeptic
i believe in a thing called love,

in toxic oxytocin tears and

jagged daggers of emotions

that hit hard and quick and deep

leaving lovers dazed and aroused

on kitchen tiles and sticky dance floors.

i do believe in love, i do,

in blood filled love potions

you put so much of yourself into it

that she just has to love you

she has to, she must,

and she does, she does,

ugly crying but ****,

for you, all for you,

please just hold on

she pleads -

mucus filled tears cascading down her face,

*******,

thighs,

pooling on the floor,

making the doctors both cringe with disgust and

simultaneously lean forward with interest

swaying in non-existent breeze -

and you die with your first kiss in your fist

and a piebald smile that splinters her inside forever

but i guess that isn't your fault, right?

i do believe in love, i do, i do,

in unfettered devotions

in ****-that-guy,

the quality relationship improvement show,

because you want to be a lover

but the guy ain't right

so just make him up

and use a real guy as his outside

you love him sanded, smoothed, buffed, painted

with rims and an inexplicable 48 inch lcd screen

you'll officially get hitched but don't cry

divorce is common and either way it doesn't matter

just look pretty and make sure to squint.

i do believe love, i do

i believe in

poisoning yourself for Juliet

rather than taking her pulse

to taking dear John's heart and

jumping on it happily

because you love him sooooo much

but like, the world has conspired against you,

not with guns and bombs and videotape

but with, like, freely made decisions,

peer pressure and jagermeister  

his blood makes pretty patterns on your

milk white thighs and i guess that

he sticks around for the show

oh boy, i believe in love, i do, that

6 and 9 aren't meant to be together

they just fit, that

there's no place for 'pure' in love cos it's all

pain and *** and spit

as for 'star crossed lovers'

the stars are always crossed

else eclipses would be boring and

each lost lover on a course

i do believe in love, i do,

in the sweetheart who lispes

licking earlobes and bottom lip biting

of metal snakes, happy fates

and piscean traits,

exuding high fructose glucose syrup

instead of saliva

so kiss them carefully or you'll

sugar high and sugar low

and sugar crash and burn

with every cosmic turn and

oh, i believe in love, lovers, oh i do, i do,

in the swirls of black and white that

play ying and yang

that kiss and grate and fornicate

forming a pasty grey

declaring that their grey is the

greyest, greatest, gayest grey

i do believe in love, i do,

bridezilla has destroyed new york in the

quest for the perfect dress as

otherwise her,

sorry,

their,

day will be ruined

milan and paris are shaking in their loius vuittons

praying they will be passed over

oh anna wintour,

just one more working day

please let the cake be next on it's list,

deliver us, oh lagerfeld, from

polyester blend shrouds in hideous off white,

amen.

but yeah,

i do believe in love, i do,

in philosophers that never tire

who'll be debating whether

kpattz, robsten, or my name for it,

sorry, them,

pattenwart,

really love each other

or are merely feeding off the media **** storm

to soothe their fragile bodies

and appease their shiny deities.

so yeah, i know what it involves

every ingredient labelled and shelved

sampled and sicked up and

given 5 star reviews on amazon

with words of advice

and i do believe in love.

i do.

oh, i do

so friends,

hold out your bleeding hearts

apply some anti-skeptic

your wounds will heal in 30 days

give or take a century.
Oct 2012 · 1.3k
Peak
my eye lids are heavier

than canvas shopping bags

after a particular gratitious shop

(fret not, i bought your biscuits)

and my heart is full of jangly

indie twee pop with a stomping bassline

that makes me want to dance with

tears in my eyes at times,

happy ones,

the kind that makes old(er) people in

old or stereotypical things proclaim

'turn off that infernal racket'

'what is that god awful noise'

etcetera but less circuituously

look at me world, i'm happy

look at this ******* smile

look at it

look at my yellowed teeth and tell me that i'm not a woman

look at my hair and tell me that i wasn't born with it

look at my face and pretend you've never seen anything so confusing

wait the last one didn't work did it

let me try again



give me the key to the city and i'll give you the key to my heart

okay the last one was a lie but

you get or can hopefully at least begin to grasp the point,

I can recommend some secondary reading if you're interested in reading around the topic.

but yes, where was i?

ah yes,

i'm on the crest of a sugar high

and i think i can see my house from here

i can see the ruins and the new developments going up

and from up here, as always,

everything is pretty ******* beautiful

there's so little air

no wait

another lie, sorry,

there's empty space with nothing in it

not even gas particles

only me and my feelings and

so little room to move in this tiny car

but i'm safe and i'm well

and i'm strapped in tight

and i can see my house from here.



honestly, it's that one right there.

i can see myself at the window,

eating a bagel with margarine

and wondering how the hell

I ever got so high off the ground.
Oct 2012 · 2.3k
Left
i loved you, right

a love unreturned,

unrequited

but alas, still

stoked by little miners with

hearts of brass their

iron faces grimacing at the task,

little beads of lots of sweat

dripping down their

taut frowns.

so what i meant to say is that

i love you, right,

and it’s a love that still

burns, bright, enough

to bring the boys home but

let’s be honest

it wouldn’t best the sun, but

****, it’s a terrible light,

it throws everything into a soft relief

where pretty, soft voiced sheep say

pretty, soft voiced things like

‘it’s okay to feel this way’

‘i want you to be happy’

‘she sounds amazing’

and other things that normal people

tell me mean that either

i don’t love you

or i’m moving on.

they don’t understand though,

i mean,

i love you, right,

though all that sheep **** makes it

sound as if

i’m waving you off,

smashing the celebratory champagne on your bow,

waving you off into the distance with a lacy hanky,

joyful tears cascading down my powdered cheekbones,

i’m greedy

maybe even,

needy,

a disgusting word and

even if i make pacts with myself

to the order of

‘he can do so much better’

‘i am damaged goods’

and other associated half truths

i’d be a liar if i said that

i would kick you out of bed

or even rebuke the slightest of

advances, no i’d take my chances

and i cannot bear it, really

i’d touch you and whatever wholeness

whatever someone else would

parse as clean or pure or holy

wouldn’t disintegrate, no

wouldn’t tarnish, no

would most probably just implode

under the combined pressure

of emotionally-mentally-******-in-the-head-doe

(where the **** do you think the miners got all that coal)

so, yes… wait. no?

i love you, right

but just ignore it

enjoy the lights

please remember them

tell your friends and

cherish them until

they are taken by

death, drink, dementia

but i’m sure your mum,

teacher,

or television

long ago informed you that

bright lights are detrimental to vision

so think of your future and

forget now

if you’re tempted by how i look at you

remember how

sunburn seems innocuous

until you see your skin

and sunscreen pretty useless

‘til you learn the sun will win

and the best way to avoid

dainty melanoma

is

to

go

inside

and

lock

your

door

and act like you don’t know her.

— The End —