I met my love at a pub
Drinking a pint of brew
We fell madly in love
Before I really knew

However I had an issue
He had a tattoo of his exwifes name
On his upper arm
TRISH

Outwitting an unwilling participate is a hard thing to do
Especially when the other person doesn't have a clue
The humiliation my cause for alarm
We needed to find a solution Before there was further harm

I sweetly batted my eyes and suggested
He add a line under the letter  T
changing the name from
TRISH to IRISH
HELL NO he replied I'm not Irish

I held my temper at all cost
I began to think the situation was lost
although my blood began to boil
We needed to find  our way through this toil

I stood my ground
I smiled speaking in the sweetest voice I found
leaving him no choice but accept my wish
WELL DARLING I'm not TRISH

He wondered how he would feel making love to me
If I had another man's name from him to see
His compassion saved the day
Understanding how I could feel this way

My darling love drinks a beer
To celebrate St Patrick's Day cheer
perhaps to remember the sacrifice he made to get here
Few know the story behind the tattoo he holds dear

Word to the wise
Think twice
about getting a tattoo a loved one may despise
A tattoo is like going under the knife
Your choice lasts a lifetime
Happy wife happy life

The familiar images of a girl with strength
and a guy with heart
and feelings that can be reasoned.
I found them everywhere in stories
but not in life.
Mostly they were just weak people
who learnt how to live with their heart.
And loved and let themselves be loved
with the faults that they had.
Here
people who were – what they were.
No love or devotion
promising to change them into lovable beings.
Especially when ‘lovable’ was defined
by people who didn’t approve certain lives
and certain love.
And the perfect image of love
and notion of the perfect people who deserved it
made me think of the emotions we cut from our heart.
Leaving us little more empty,
taking us a little more far
from the perfect life that we were told to have.

Do angels tread on this earthly ground?
Not bound by laws
of gravity
Nor flawed
by earthly depravity
Can they slip in and out of view
Is it true?
Do they give permission
To our limited vision
And interact with a fortunate few
I hope they do

Some would see coincidence
But ‘happen chance’ could be providence
Incidentally
What would you believe
We might never know
They might come and go
Wings of glory
aren’t always on show
Do they sing like in the stories
Do they sometimes glow?
I hope so

Who knows

I've been told how to look
What to feel!
What to say!
So you are expecting me to be a certain way
Surrounded by all these faces I say that I don't fit in
I see less of myself compared to that girl over there laughing ....

But maybe that's  superficial
Maybe she's just like me
Hiding under a shell, and not letting others see
Maybe she wakes up with the biggest regret
Maybe she doesn't want to laugh but that's not right compared to what society says

But I'm here for you girl, and I know you cannot hear
But feel it within that it doesn't end here
I know you feel crushed, hopeless and like nothing else matters
But still feel it inside that it's going to get better

I know you've heard this a million times, better days will come
But believe me when I say the worst has not yet arrived
I know you think its hard and  what's the point in living when you see your self-esteem getting crushed upon even in every single one of your dreams

It will get better, say that out loud
Not because others will make it so, but because you have the guts to throw down what others expect, disagree with what others think, crush down that conformity that society has put you in
You will make it far, try to understand
And once you believe it, the mask you have put on will finally disappear it.

you are not your age,
nor the colour of your hair,
you are not your weight,
or the size of clothes you wear.
you are not your name,
or the dimples in your cheeks,
you are all the books you read,
and all the words you speak,
you are your croaky morning voice,
and the smiles you try to hide.
you're the sweetness in your laughter
and every tear you've cried,
you're the songs you sing so loudly,
when you know your all alone
your the places that you've been to,
and the one that you call home,
you're the things that you believe in
and the people that you love.
you're the pictures in your bedroom
and the future that you dream.
you are made of so much beauty,
but it seems that you forgot,
when you decided that you were defined
by all the things your not.
/gt

Its times like this when i get home later than expected.
Hes sleeping peacefully,
But theres plenty to do:
Dishes
Litterboxes
Laundry
Sweeping
Mopping
Vaccuming
Cleanin­g my car
Sleeping
Bathing
Brushing my teeth
Existing
Smiling
Being Happy, or prentending to be
Be uncomortable in my own skin
Scratch my arm in hopes the skin starts peeling off
Man this list is too much for me
Im going to bed.