Hi ! How are you?

[I got backache]

Umm,
Do you need
Pain Killer, or
Pain Healer?

[I don’t get it]

If 1st, you are in the right place
If 2nd, get married

Your choice
Either way

The stars find themselves in my eyeline so often, and I reach for them, for other worlds outside of my atmosphere but I feel like Im always being pulled back into the worthlessness of dirt. ****** into the ground and suffocated by all my precious addictions.

I havent been able to find myself in the stars lately though...My memories are encased in the soft lining of all the different drugs ive done. Nostalgia for an era of pleasure that only hid pain in a closet until it became my boogeyman, kicking doors down and gouging my dreams out through my eyes.

Even blind, I find myself licking the memories like wounds, not hoping theyll heal but swiping at the idea of getting that feeling again. Feeling euphoria, feeling starlight crawling under my skin like paranoid cockroaches.

Somehow therapy made me want it more. My tongue pierces through dirt and worms, licks the faces of child molesters, searches the placid layers for a just a crumb...just one more hit.

In the past, I used drugs to see more. To shout so loud I could crack the thin layer of glass the clouds slide on, to watch them fall into me as the stars came into view again…

But See me now, here on this plateau of remembrance, mourning the feeling of being free from responsibility. So lost in the ether of pure being that the world could only be fog outside of my window. And its here...in the stark burning shimmer of bountiful light, the sun hugging me through the fog, its here where I realized how my addictions held me.

With my eyes clasped in darkness, seeing not stars, but sunshine breaking through holes in a thin reality. One id drenched myself in, one that fit better for me than staring into the eyes of the past.

Ive finally let the sun kiss me...and in the days since my eyes have been opened, I saw stars. They look like the sound of guitar strings plucked just right. The reverberations of light filling my eyeline, singing hope from my toes to my fingertips as I reach out to hold them.

Can't wait to see the old man Wednesday week.
Give my update on exposing the freak.
I'll have to 'create' by Wednesday tea, so me Shan & Lloydy* can watch T.V.
I told Deb Simo, I count as best friend, but didn't consider how all this would end.
As one told another and the news spread.
The obvious outcome, my husband is dead.
What would I do without my old Mum who guided and led me to be with this ***.
By listening to Mum and taking advice, this peado has had me not once but now twice.
Oh didn't I tell you, when I was fourteen, he took down my knickers, did something obscene.
Now that my marriage has all ended bad, I've now got a boyfriend as old as my Dad.
And if you think that's a joke, here's one, he's probably due another stroke.
Three years of bad luck, what will I do next.
Send him vile messages, all via text.
It can't be long now, and when all is done at least me and Shan have had lots of fun.
Now his family all know, they smirk and they grin. Best just do that than risk say something.
But what will he do. He'll tell them they're through unless they come clean and point at us two.
As we'd always planned, "best get on our toes". He's not ******* stupid, he already knows.
So time to move on and find some new friends.
For me, you and him this is where it all ends.

Poetry by Kaydee.

I'm sitting in the big chair
Taking my fingers and tracing them over the patterns
I'm making shapes and scratching into the fabric
A thread or two tug and make a noise as they cling to the tips of my nails

I'm looking at the wallpaper
Slowly moving my eyes and counting every stripe on the wall
White, blue, red, blue, white
I count 136 before i lose my place and have to start all over again
i notice a flaw in the pattern and move on


I'm closing my eyes and resting
Trying my hardest to ignore your gaze and your difficult questions
I don't speak
I don't listen
I don't feel
I just sit and rest
136 stripes, 208 triangles, 2 flaws- one in the wallpaper, the other is me

That's why i'm sitting in the big chair today
With the lady i don't care for
Listening to questions i don't know the answers to
Ignoring her cry for some sort of reply