Mam, from the September following Child’s 5th birthday I no longer consider you fit to raise him.
For six hours a day, five-days-a-week-term-time-only Teacher can help.
Unfortunately Teacher takes time off. She needs a break from your little monster-
so during the holiday she gives Child back. Try not to undo the good work that’s been done.
(…Won’t you?…)
If you want to bother Teacher with (daft) questions go ahead.
She’ll rearrange her face into a listening position- And respond with jargon designed to make you feel thick.
Concerns?
Child often exaggerates.
O, I see. 2 adults, 30 children and a bundle of paperwork?
She’s qualified. You’re not.
(…are you? Thought not. And you don’t live in Big House or sound T’s and H’s… So where were we?…)
Nightmares? Bruises? Cuts, scrapes, a black-eye? Low self esteem?
(…so you’re a psychologist now?…)
Child cries? Is unhappy in class?
His fault.
Or yours! Don’t worry. Teacher keeps her eyes open for signs of trouble at home.
Child skips school? Down to you.
(…There will be various consequences, of course. And implications……c-o-n…s-e-qu-e…nce-s…,….i-m-p…l-i-c…a-t…i-on-s… It’s been made clear already: You’re not fit to raise him…)
Pressured? Bored? Judged and ignored? Humiliated? Belittled? Frustrated?
It will lead to what, exactly?
O, when he leaves School! For just a moment there
I was worried.
No, no. Not a problem. Not a problem at all.
Maybe he’ll run with a bad crowd, break a few laws, end up in the gutter?
Yes. Maybe.
But it’s out of my hands.

I crave those days back when I could just look behind my shoulder
and I would see you lying there reading on my bed.
I wonder why I never wrote about how happy I was with you.

Those suppressed smiles that would tug upon the edges of your lips as you read my poetry.
I can still remember how your tongue brushes your front teeth when,
oh how you used to exquisitely say "I love you."

I never paid much attention to the curves of your form back then.
How the arc of your spine is the red carpet for the curve of your ***.
How enticing your features were, when you lay bare on top of my sheets.
How the round edges of your lips were appetizers for the round brown eyes you had.
Your cute button nose.
Your chest slowly rising and deflating to match your breath.
I fell irrevocably in love with each time your breath exaggerates the fullness of your chest.

I still remember how the skins between your ******* would feel a lot like home
and truth be told;
I'm homesick.

A blank spot enters my consciousness

A temporarily bright blackness

A blindness one receives if engaged

In an over prolonged look at the sun

A confusion hangs suspended

Now when I attempt to recall things

All I can remember is the absolute lucidity of this blank spot

This nothingness, a void of inarticulate reality

That exaggerates its intentions to consummate a separation

But never succeeds in its completion

This confusion however gives me a blinding clarity of perception

What I do recall is the realisation that I have always been someone else

The construction of a plural figure is what I have been trying to realize

Like Rimbaud I am another

i sit alone
alone, but with a voice in my head

the voice that reminds me you exist
and are getting along fine without me

the voice that reminds me my calorie intake
and that i am not a size 4

the voice that reminds me someone has glanced at my wrist
and will never look at me the same way again

the voice that exaggerates any imperfection
except the ones on you

the voice that keeps me company at night
but not the way i want it to

what is it that i am looking for

what is that convulses my mind so

i don’t know, I just don’t know

yet I keep on searching for something

something i know not what

it is in the words, i know it is in the words

it demands a recognition,

perhaps it is an illusion of complex

temporal simultaneity that plays

upon my reason but what is it

that delivers a thousand shivers

and colors from everywhere and nowhere

is it the blank spot that enters my consciousness

bringing temporarily bright blackness

the blindness one receives if

engaged in an over prolonged look at the sun

is it the inner workings of my mind

trying to free some irritant that

has intended to punctuate my thinking

without permission

an attempt to perplex

this new apostasy

that incubates within

yet a confusion hangs suspended

Of this blank spot, this nothingness,

this void of inarticulate reality that

exaggerates its intentions to consummate

a separation but never succeeds in its completion

I am a God, I am the Devil.
I provide the circumstances for an easy life yet I am the one to make it hard.
I am the one who brings you down still I am the one who raises your level.
I am the one who gives you hope and I am the one who leaves you scarred.

I am the one who cared deeply but I am the one who remained a mystery.
I am the one who exaggerates your pain yet I was the one who put you out of misery.
I was the one who helped you climb the highest mountains still I will be the one who will push you out of envy.
I am the one to lie but I expect everyone to speak truthfully.

I am the Buddha, I am the ******,
I can spread peace worldwide yet I can be the mass murderer.
I could put the gun in your hands or I could free you from your own prison.
I can start the war in the name of racism or later people could pay me tribute and start a different religion.


I am a human being, that's who I choose to be.
I make mistakes and I learn from it.
I am not perfect, that's not what I intend to be.
This world ain't a joyride but I know I have the guts to live through it.

Her anxious legs, her body feels the absence of the last smoke, the last snort.

She preps her shot thinking it will be boss but down the drain she goes.

She'll fight her mind, her body, her spirit, but doesn't know which way to go.

So her body decides, as she's screaming in her mind, let me go, let me go!

She preps the needle with the spoon as her priorities are left in the dust.

Everything ice cold but not that hole in her arm, it's slowly trickling out blood.

Seconds bring instant comfort, relieving her restless body and anxious mind.

She cannot bear the withdrawals that come along dragging her behind.

A sharp spear laced in poison detracting delicate skin to bruises and scars.

Unit, by unit, her shot dissipates and every inch of her eagerly awaits to embrace the rush of the high.

As time slips by, the high subsides and she is dry, all insecurities exposed in bare sight.

Panic..on the search..broke..fiending..stealing..robbing..lost loved ones..manipulation..broken promises..

The curse gets worse. It's meaningless synthetic comfort, the happy juice she can never refuse fills her receptors, a matching piece to fit the puzzle

The feeling can't be beat, a silent stream reminding her in her dreams creeping into the sunrise bursting with a desperate scream.

Worry and panic demands her full focus and the lies and deceit don't stop until fear of not having money has subsided. Begging and crying, playing the victim with no rest until she got her fix.

She's not happy, she feels dead. Synthetic pleasure breeds depression, and she's cannot function on her own, she disregards her responsibilities and continues to fail

Her presence overdue, regularly absent she won't pass, she'll miss out on every opportunity or simply won't care for consequences.

Dope is her only interest, where she pours all her energy and effort, she even proposed to forever be a servant, for what she loves most.

So much aggressive energy to remain living, guilt-tripping her lover into enabling her, she get's what she wants.

Time and time again until she drains his resources, with nothing left to give, he starves.

Confusion blocks her judgment as she believes the sickness is out to get her, but she has exhausted her funds too, tired of depending on her dope dictator, wishing to be free from the physical and psychological deterioration.

Her best friend ****** left her for dead, locked her in a cage kicking and screaming.

How much do you really love me?? Fight for me and score some more the funds to feed the fire, exhausted, not a dollar to my name.

Validate me, i'm what you need. I'll give you hugs and kisses, dreams of the childhood you never had.

Leave it all in the past because i'm the high that leaves you in a fragile state, mistake by mistake it's the price you will pay.

Near and far, nodding in and out, constantly chasing the dragon. Familiar pleasure filling the lungs provides the sense of stability blocking out pain and discomfort.

Oblivious to the vicious demise quietly poisoning your body, draining your youth as your life is dictated where the abstinence of dope exaggerates the sickness that overruns as you lose control of your life and question your purpose.

Losing touch with reality, addiction becomes erratic-out of control. You don't recognize the face in the mirror anymore, a slave to an demanding lifestyle draining you from the inside out.

Not sure your reason to keep living, hoping one day you can beat your disease never looking back. The day came, you're tired, you've given up, you need out. Looking back, you've accomplished not a single thing.

Only getting older with more expectations, forced to revaluate your progress, found out to be limited to none. You're so done.

Running with open arms into recovery is the only chance you'll succeed, and to breed your goals and dreams you need to believe. To put in your effort and defeat the beast thats waiting for the chance you slip up and bleed.

Take one day at a time, this is a must, far from simple , but you need to trust.

In yourself, a higher power, an inspiration, will be the motivation to reclaim your life back, claim true happiness, and become the best version of yourself

***** will never fill you up
It will only temporarily allow you
To forget you are empty
But when the poison
In your blood runs thin
You will be left
With a hollow more cavernous and
Gaping than before
New space eaten from your
body, devoured by whiskey
Carved by wine
No depth of ruby stain
On your lips
Nor pungent drunk of your breath
Nor clumsy twist of your tongue
Will cultivate a remedy
Liquor does not bring life
it exaggerates sorrow
So do not drown yourself
In an acrid bottle
There you will only find
More darkness

I feel everything I feel
with such a strong intensity
that's why when I fall in love
I fall too fast and too hard
it's why when I fall out of love
i'm left recklessly abandoned
utterly ******
I feel with a different part of my mind
one that exaggerates every little detail
one that turns puddles to oceans
breeze to tornadoes
and me into someone who feels
just a tad too much

I can feel a storm approaching.
It comes in the guise of a lover's lies;
Favours bought and friendships diced.

But I do not hate him. That much I know. I  am not making you choose.

But I DO hate, and I hate with a passion;
That soft-spoken pillow talk holds greater weight than the anguish you know I've drowned in -
That you would put me through it again because your lover holds your hands
And exaggerates.

I am cold. And my tears are the colour of moonlight.

I have a brother who is the first,
I have a brother who is the last.
I am a girl who is in the middle,
Always accompanied by a riddle!

When I exchange blows with them,
This is how my mom condemns:
Give him respect, he is elder!
Show some sympathy, he is younger!

But, what Am I?
Doing in the middle?
I am not the one to be shown respect,
I am not the one to be shown sympathy...

And when my Dad exaggerates:
"My sons, the first and the last-
Are Always fast,
But, the middle is slightly in contrast"

Contrast, In What way?
I convey:
"I was away,
With my friends at the cafe,
When I had to give them a bouquet
Before I could reach the buffet!"

I reach great heights,
And show them delights
But always my neigbours tell:
"Your sons never rebel,
I think the middle is hell!"

And I am the middle
Who Is always unable
To tolerate their riddle!

I think about him all the time.

I check my social networks, just to see if he's left his mark anywhere. similar to the mark he left in me.
I make so many excuse for him. " Maybe he's not talking to me because he wants to get over me"... when in actual fact, I'm the only trying to get over him... Us.

I'm curious about him.
The way he smells when he holds me close.

How his hair would feel like as it brushes across my check and bounce on my neck.

I smell his Nicotine fingers as he grabs my jaw and pulls me in for a kiss.
I taste his tobacco lips on my ****** tongue as the dance in tangent, on a dance floor that is used to being 500 Kilometers apart.

I'm curious what it feels like to be surrounded by him, around him, behind him, next to him... with him.

I miss his messages:
The ones that got to me and the ones still hesitant to send.

I miss his imaginary laugh;
The one I hear when he sends the Emoji, the One he fakes, the one he exaggerates and the one she gets to hear.

I miss his hands;
The ones I'll never know the feeling of, but the ones that plan on holding me, grabbing me, caressing me... but right now...
The ones that are pushing me away.

After what I've done,
at the gate of my dream,

my mind cheats

exaggerates achievements

on how it affected
- how it convinced.

And within my dream
I recall,
The ferocity of which I could
Only really growl,
"Leave him alone,"
An "Or Else." bleeding through
My tone.

And the images of
Those that have granted me
Only nightmares
Flashed before my eyes
And I realized
My own sins
Have made theirs seem greater.

I know what lies look like,
I know how they read.

Hatred makes a truth
Twisted and convoluted,
Makes you see double the pain,
Double the anguish.

It exaggerates hurt,
And lengthens the scars.

I am aware of this,
For I do not speak
My hatred's names.

I  dreamt of fire last night,
I dreamt of flames.

But you are the cold winds,
You are the rain.

I need the rain,
To **** the fire
That burned at my flesh,
At the raw parts of my heart.

And so you did.

some of those vital statistics are undeniable

i may be five eleven and a half
but i generally round the number down
(my son exaggerates me into the six foot range)

my eyes are brown
and my hair

but someone who craves my voice
may tell you that they never notice
either

age changes, not year by year
but moment by moment

wisdom sometimes measures me a hundred or more
and joy may number me a child
with shining eyes

i can accomplish temporary feats
of domestic talent
sew a quilt to keep you warm
bake a cake to keep you fed

but my voice accomplishes phenomena
that defy description

i make miracles
sometimes
when folks aren't looking

nothing as tall as a skyscraper
something less tangible
and ordinary
as light or healing

my size may be slight
i may be timid
or bold
depending on the weather

storms wither
clouds focus

i had a vision
for where this was going
when i started
maybe someday
I'll get there

From China To Some ... U.S. States ...
And CLEARLY NOW ... In The UK ...      
      
Many Choose To Live ...  " Behind Closed Gates " ...    
      
But The Word MANY ...  " Exaggerates " ... !!!!!!  
      
The WEALTHY FEW Buy Homes With Pools ...    
With Cash That BURNS Like HIGH PRICED Fuel ... !!!    
      
And Are Now In Zones Where They Live Alone ...    
To Exist Amongst Their ... Breed of CLONES ... !!!!!    
      
FAKE This ... FAKE That ... !!!    
And YES ... FAKE TANS ... !!!    
      
Which Of Course They CLAIM ...
HELPS Keep Them SANE ... !!!    
      
NO LONGER Do They Have To Face ... !!!    
Those Who RAISE ... Local Crime Rates ... !!!!!    
      
ILLEGALS of A DIFFERENT Race ... !!!    
Who ...... THEY CLAIM ..... !!!!!    
      
"Just come in, and spread their evil, brand of sin !"    
      
CLEARLY The Colour of Their Skin ... !!!    
      
"Hey, come on now, that line was foul !    
We're not racists, We'll let you in if you are rich !"  
      
So ...
Is This How It's ALWAYS BEEN ... ?!?!?    
      
Or Is This Just ... " New Age Living " ... ???    
      
Where SELL OUTS RUSH To Join Their Clubs ...    
................ "Behind Closed Gates" ................. ?  
    
When They've Had Enough ...    
of Living Their Lives ... Around HOODLUMS ... !!!    
      
Come On Now Man You Must Be DUMB ... !!!    
You Talk of ... " ILLEGAL ALIENS " ... !!!?!!!    
      
Well Listen Up Son ... !!!    
Cos' You've ... LOST The Plot ... !!!!!    
The HOODLUMS Live NEXT To Your Lot ... !!!!!    
      
YOUNG Skinheads Who Are Smoking *** ... !!!    
And TRYING To Rap Just Like Some Blacks ... ?!?    
      
"So, how'd you feel about that ?"    
      
You DON'T Want IMMIGRANTS Or ... So You SAY ... ?!?    
But ALLOW Them In To ... CLEAN YOUR PLACE ... !?!    
Then Have The Cheek To Pay Them At The Minimum Wage ... !?!    
      
You People REALLY Are TWO-FACED ... !!!!!!    
      
Live ... " Behind Closed Gates " ...    
And REFUSE To ...... INTEGRATE ...... !!!!!!    
      
Well Some Would Say ...    
That You're Breeding HATE ... ?!?    
      
Or Breeding Like SICK Families ...    
Nephews ... Sleeping With Aunties ... !!!!!!!!!!!    
      
Live Behind Closed Gates ...    
      
" NO THANKS OKAY ! "    
      
A Human Zoo Is What Some Choose ... ?!?    
      
Just To PROVE ...    
They're BETTER THAN ... " WHO " ... ???    
      
The ... REST OF US  ... ?!?    
Well ... Listen Up ... !!!!!!    
      
Look Who Lives NOW Just Like MONKEYS ... !!!!!    
In A GATED RESERVE ... I'm A Bit Concerned ...  ?    
      
What's Coming Next ... SWINGING FROM TREES ... !?!    
      
Listen Up ... " CLOSELY " ... !!!!!    
      
I'm ... HAPPY To See These IGNORANT FREAKS ...    
Kept AWAY From Me And In THEIR OWN SOCIETY ... !!!!!!    
      
...... " Behind Closed Gates " ...... !!!    
      
Or Worse ... "CLOSED Doors" ...    
Are SEPARATISTS ... And That's FOR SURE ... !!!    
Who Keep Their SICKNESS ... Locked Away ... !!!    
      
Well Maybe That's A BETTER Way ... ?    
Than Having THEM Next To You Each Day ... !?!    
      
So ... What Do You Say ... ?    
      
Are You One of THEM ... ?!?    
Who's Got PROBLEMS With IMMIGRANTS ... ?    
      
Well I Suggest If That's The Case ...    
Buy Yourself A Home Behind Closed Gates ...    
      
But Let Me Ask You  THIS Question ...    
      
Who INDULGES These Systems ... ???    
of Letting IN ... Us Immigrants ... !!!    
      
Are They NOT YOUR Governments ...
And YOUR RICH Friends ... !?!?!    

To Make Dollars And Cents And Pounds and Pence ...    
And Maybe Now ... Even Some YEN ... !?!?!?!?!    
    
Immigrants Are PEOPLE NOT ALIENS .... !!!! ? !!!!  
      
If They Break The Rules Lock Them Up That's Cool ... !!!!!    
      
But BLAMING THEM ...
For YOUR Troubles ... ?    

Proves That You're A Tool ...
Who Is USED Like A FOOL By DIVISIVE Groups ... !!!!!!    
      
Well I've Now Had My Say ...    
But ... What Do You Say ... ???    
      
Do You See Yourself Living ... ?    
      
... " Behind Closed Gates ? " ...

Soon there will be serenity, I fantasise,
While plodding along uniformly along a turbulent path,
But if a bump is too big, what should I do?
I'm not in the state to buffer in transit.

Am I walking as though I'm in the place I hope to be?
Though if I were there, I would know how to get there;
I'd be experienced in traversing this changing climate.
But I've experienced a lot, so what exaggerates my response?

Is it delusion? It's hard to tell sometimes; my desires gets ever closer.
Perhaps its a logical error; correctness is often relative in such matters.
My surroundings must contribute, but shouldn't.
Or maybe it's simply habit? Addiction?

But as time proceeds, everything becomes more convex;
Views layer on each other, with the fundamentals out of sight.
Other's views can help or, more often, obscure further.
Though still, every so often, I understand and see a little more.

the fact that no one is watching the movie is good for the baby.  my wrist hurts and so far not a single pill has cleared the mouth-hole of your mask.  you’ve seen your mother but not since she got that haircut for which her eyes are still too big.  god exaggerates.  the choices were, and are, eat or learn a language.