You caught my eye and wouldn't let go
I tried to work past it but you said "no".
You didn't consume my thoughts before
But now that I've noticed, you demand more.
Your presence controls me like an addict
So like an itch on my head, I scratch it.
Just once; no, twice, again and again
just hoping that scratching will bring this to an end
Because I can't move on
Until I know you're gone.
I've seen others like you in the past
And I know you won't be the last
But I can't help but go insane
By seeing on my desk a coffee stain.

It's just a glass of scotch! It might as well be water.
I drink it just like a four year old drinks a Capri-
no, a Juice Box.
I don't want it on the rocks, I take it neat, like my room.
See? It's just like milk! Do you drink milk with ice?
It's not illegal, and if you don't believe me take a look at the box
It says it's been aged 21 years, and my other at 25!
My scotch is so old it gets discounted car insurance like your mom did however many hundreds of years ago it was.
It's just scotch so stop whining about it.
Actually, that gives me a great idea,
I'll go drink wine. Happy?

Writing always seems more urgent
When it's written in italics,
Even when the topic,
Is rather mundane.
Consider this example:
I like to eat sandwiches

Furthermore, everything
Seems much more urgent,
When written in bold font,
We revisit the example:
I like to eat sandwiches

...and a step even further,
Writing seems absolutely
Crucial when written in,
Bold font, with caps-lock,
Once again, we recapitulate:
I LIKE TO EAT SANDWICHES

At this point, it seems as though
I am imparting unto you matters
Of the utmost severity, that could
Be the difference between life and death,
...but really, I just like sandwiches.

This amuses me.

I tried to write a sonnet once
But only wrote twelve lines.
With number I am ever the dunce,
Make errors of all kinds.
Ten syllables is what’s required
Repeated fourteen times.
It makes me oh so very tired,
Before I find those rhymes.
And now I need a turning point,
A solution to the problem.
It’s time for me to rock this joint
From Cleethorpes up to Rotherham.
It looks contrived does each old poem,
So back to the drawing board I am going.

Paul Butters

As much as I love you
I'd rather a cigarette right now
Because even though it could **** me
It never grabbed my throat
And squeezed
Only filled my head with smog
And lungs with tar
And my mouth with a taste I could never forget
Unlike you
So yes
I'd rather a cigarette right now
As much as I love you

I grew up on the boarder of city and country
On neo-folk and punk served with romantic classical
The kind of music that paints pictures
Rainy days were my favourite
My Mom didn't pay much attention to me so I learnt to play
With my wild imagination
Until Dad came home
He'd leave whenever he got mad "I'm going for a drive"
I loved dogs and horses and all natures creatures
Except cockroaches
Dear god did I ******* hate those things
My Mom was a pagan my Dad the member of a Catholic church
Mom told me if I am good in this life I'd be a unicorn in the next
My Dad just taught me the lord's prayer
My first friend told me I was going to hell
I knew she'd be a slug in her next life
School bells
I enjoyed school
I was a prodigy child in everything except math
Dad pushed me into Karate, Judo, Rock Climbing, Soccer, Boxing
I liked playing my piano and drawing my dog
Sports made me uncomfortable
My first kiss was with slug girl
She was pudgy and had a cute smile which I was jealous of
But she screamed and ran away
That was the first time I heard the term "gay"
I started to like boys because I thought it was "right"
My Mom said "we all love our friends" but my Dad frowned
I loved my Dad
I wanted him to love me too so I kissed the boy I grew up with
It was gross
I kissed many boys after that and tried my hardest to forget slug girl
We moved into the heart of town and I wore more black
I stopped playing with my Matchbox cars
I stopped galloping about like the horses I desired
I put on a little eyeliner and the bullying I faced when I was younger
Made me weak
It got worse
They tormented me those kids
I wished them all dead but I knew Karma would get them
Eventually
Now I am still drawing animals and writing and playing piano
But I wont ever forget my Dad and his silly beliefs and *** Pistols
I embrace my gayness although not to it's shining potential
But I will always love myself for everything I was
Am
And ever will be
My story is far more dark and complex than this but to tell it would take a lifetime
My whole lifetime
And more to come
x
Kaity