You were controlling.
You were horrible
I hate you
You hate me
You cheated
You left
You didn't speak to me
You ghosted me
You left your stuff at my house
and now you want it back.
(>'-'<)

Doing Stuff.

I have found.
That I do
Stuff…..
All the time.
I need to slow down.
When I do that…
I’m not doing stuff.
Finally.

Now, what is there to do?

Notifications come in..
'Your iCloud account is full'
'Your Google account is full'
Full of what.. I wonder?
Bits and bytes of memories
Some of which matter, most of which don't
Data cooking on servers, data cooking the world with heat

Handle won't move
Drawers full
Wardrobes full
Full of what.. I wonder?
Clothes that haven't been worn once this year
Shoes that lie dormant in little door mice boxes
Decent covers for others that need them to stay warm

Fridge door is stuck
Shelves are full
Cupboards are full
Full of what.. I wonder?
Good fruit, tinned meat and veg that I sometimes eat
But mostly goes into recycling
Fuel for hungry soles

I stutt..er, words can't come out
Synapses stuck
Brain is full
Full of what.. I wonder?
Media junk from many screens
Mostly *******, occasionally useful
Negative rhetoric filling valuable spaces
Brain fog and digital clouds, clouding the future

so I surrounded myself with stuff
it made me feel better
worthy, an achiever
bolstering my confidence
stuff came through the post
parcels to open everyday
it was like Christmas
stuff was in shops
where people were happy
to help spend my money
it was like they were jealous
wanting to live through me
getting the stuff they wanted
but I was paying
then I began to worship stuff
exclusive stuff
one of a kind stuff
then I woke up
literally opened my eyes
and saw all this ****
how I had coveted it
no friends, no relationship
no emotion, no soul
I was effectively dead
some Egyptian mummy
preserved in a living tomb
full of all all the ****
I'd need in the afterlife
because I had no time
to appreciate it all now
so I sold my ****
to people who were like me
and I looked at them
slavering over my old ****
and I hated them
like seeing my image in a mirror
they were so pleased
carrying off their prizes
not realising it was all cursed
they never owned anything
just stuff someone would
someday
prize from their cold dead fingers

i would like my flannel back
but i don't know how to ask for it
and i really don't want to talk to you
but in my head i know that means
you've won
in a way i really don't want you to win

can you give me back my copy of Paper Towns
i know you didn't read it, but i don't care anymore
if you read it, maybe you'd love me
or maybe it's the opposite, and maybe if you loved me
you would have read it
but i don't have the time to think like that anymore

what i really want back is the two years i spent on you
treating you like a droplet of tortured heaven
giving you all of me to fill the cracks in your heart
but the real cracks were in your head
for letting me give you everything, and never giving back
you didn't even say thank you

but i'd settle for the book and the flannel

Oh, hear me,
the humming cloud
is raining down.
Am I about to get back
my ears?

My long missed Saqi
gone to fetch the sea.
I say come your one
signature drop is enough.
Keeps the cloud afloat and intact
above the sea high enough.
Down to a parched Earth then
pour down some raw stuff
some zero sugar marshmallow fluff.