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News

Makes this tale mangy from substance abuse.

It rips at the soul-

 Makes censorship an ideal way to protect society

from the ugly truth.

Weak humans

Covering up their tracks.

Idle loneliness

makes for an abode

 Senses  summoned in to serve

 body possession

resembles

a genre of  the common trap.

Jedi modification

trance.

silence

or

Depeche  mode

Crazy contravenes with inner child’s freshly painted creche.

Dynamo

Isn’t as mighty

 Paired up with a jogger,

 a fit bit,

and a

radiant glow.

Three strikes.

When did time get so slow?

this temple-

Armour of organs in free harmonic flow.

one

Sincerely thinks.

Yes.

It is wise to know.

Faithfully your

beat  sets up another trap for

The inner mouse.

Eventually,

it will come out.

lose control.

No.

Leave.

Go!

 Big Ben caught in the designated zepherous zone.

 Failed  to save uncapped pressure

 Builds up into a deafening detonation.

Unintentional.

The inner logic was damage limitation.

The government ordered trench coats

  In full sight.

Tainted

 unprotected,

pollution seeps out from a  piercing moan.

Bridal mess   Sleuths about

 in slippers.

 Track tips far too early.

Nevertheless

behind.

Hands cover sight.

Mind convinced its temporary.

Blindspot.

Nevertheless

It’s all right.

Habits washed in  deficient  light

 credit token-

a  gesture.

kinder

More compassionate.

Guilt?

perhaps…

The decision fully saddled.

Vows  riddled

Wholly broken.

The course is  hardened terrain

Rumours rustle  barren branches

 summer shamed of its remaining leaves.

Scarlett

Stops

Shaded

Strangers

Point fingers in one direction.

Signpost makes a statement!

all-inclusive meals

Beyond

The border of Insanity.

Handstand

then

 the cartwheels-the body released from  tension

 Moment  of clarity

woe, for  the gifted

gasping on

thorn scented roses

Stoney  carves out

The centurion tone.

Inflicts an incident.

A beat.

A blockage.

A seizure.

 Arithmetic arrests Maroon’s motion.

Apprehended by fear.

Not one morsel intervenes.

homebound

Iris catches sight

 A distasteful  Discovery.

Host

bloody

broody

burnt the ceremonial toast.

Finally

Alone

A legitimate  excuse

 eyes wide open

 shed

Timely tears.

Sabali wabi sabi

SABALI WABISABI

Does it need to be said

Because the Media makes you think your makeup is inappropriate?

If you are horrified to ask Google for mental health support

You know I’m here to tell it — (once )’for a cause not for an applause’

To avoid the pariah of your mind.

Who you are is important for your wellbeing

Beautiful you are because of your malaise.

It’s about what you think.

A unique template for peace of mind.

Alone-thoughts are you,

And yours together.

Others’ opinions must dance alone with their shadows.

Fathoming the world is relative to your state

Your kind.

Diagrams and graphic diagnostics aren’t “normal”!

Natural ?!

Necessary?

Merely for inferences and academic utterances.

Your Beauty is personified by playful events racing around your head.

Love it like you love…

…another human

Beings

Those who have numbers and words yet can’t calculate when there’s enough unsaid.

Needs are experiences.

Feelings are needed…

Interpret the world through the vessel of your spirited Self.

When skies hang drab

Do you dazzle because you can see a scattered horizon of hope — as a possibility ?

When the Others tether connections

Tumble into an abyss —

Can you see their limits ?

Step back.

Allow them to be.

Is your world subject to scrutiny because of how you interpret human nature?

Do you deviate from society’s accusations of what is the trending status quo?

What if the box you live in is… outside?

What if you build a bridge

Bearing a cross

Over to acceptable taboos ?

Breath prescribed by an arched smile.

Diagnose yourself Beautiful- because of your laments.

Before time becomes an absolute Obsession

Forecasting the outcome to the finale to the play of ‘This is your Life’.

Take moments to repose.

Free yourself from the expectation

To be your career

To win over the Marvel comic genderless hero.

Deprecate your expectations to finance your inner Happiness resources.

This entity is inside your realm of Consciousness — restless

Trodden and stamped into a standing pose.

Moments of reflection pace

Forwards then backwards

Misunderstood

Are you what you want to be?

Can you begin a journey if you don’t understand where you are?

Certainly living up to some other lifer’s calculation should

Pause your being into a statuesque introspection.

To dismiss your guttural instincts will unravel you at the seams— out-thread you out of your very own mind.

Success comes from mapping out your own directions.

Hopeful-to wake up to another day of understanding ‘This is your Life’.

Your ability to comprehend, foreshadows your failed attempts to claw out of the darkest pit.

Sounds of the ocean lap to your melody.

Nothing that you feel about Today

Can conceive the trembling murmurs cut off from the guillotine of your Sanity.

In all of your figurements…are you determined to act out your suicides because you fear your inability to state your arousel ?

Who you are

Is that wrong?

Thoughts preempt if everything is filled in with Leftism.

Resist apologising

Dismiss you have the good view

Change your world

Thoughtfully

Refuse everything

That threatens your Passions —

That provokes beta beatings whistling out of tune.

Precious notions find a sense of disambiguation before the matter resolves itself.

Do you tell others to respond to what you fail to question?

Where is the perversity in watching the death of your inner Flinch — to conclude this delusion ?

What if you won’t be the canvas that contains an abstract spectrum fading you out of your very own Self ?

Look on at those who shrink into their frames bled of every shade of hues

Is this what you want?

The harlot

Heathen!

Thieving!

Scheming!

A woman who professes to be authentic

Yet all she does is make herself look pathetic.

 

The heart connects with what it wants.

Mind comes in with that rational thought of ‘you can’t’.

Deserve to be kicked to the gutter.

She can’t even summon up the courage to talk about it. 

It all comes out in a garbled stutter!

“Believe in yourself.”

“I know you are scared.”

She only ever wanted to see him fare and succeed in his own concept of desired wealth.

He says:   “We can’t be in the same room as each other”

For he and her may just tear their clothes apart again and enjoy skin on skin contact  -She loves to discover.

She walked out like a harlot.

 

Made her bed and

Oh, how she lay in it!

 

Thorns are necessary to feel the pain of her errant milkmaid, hay, rollicking moment as Charlotte.

She is not some good little girl who knows how to carve a lie out of it.

 

A piece of her heart is not with her.

She left it with another soul she is not allowed to bother.

What one wants the other has,

what the other wants the other has.

 

Slow down.

Be a happy family.

You are going to have to rip this ‘party girl’ crown off her to get some sense of loyalty.

She is the betrayer.

She shows what she reaps.

If that means loss.

Then I guess she needs to stick to her decisions and take the leap.

 

Questions?

Answers!

“Look into my eyes,”

“did you feel it?”

Or is that her reading into things too much and getting smogged in the thick of this illusory bet?

Illusions and fantasy are all played out fantastically in the mind.

Put it into practice and she gets to be the one who has to deal with her foibles and his  own “diplomatic” declines.

 

She is going to make it through it,

no matter what she does.

She is here for a purpose.

Let’s make sure it counts and is worth it.

The harlot – the whore.

The one who felt wanted for a whole hour more.

 

No payment.

Just talk.

Do the right thing.

She tries but her heart fucking stings.

 

Blue eyes that pull her closer.

She pulls away because she knows that he can let this go and invite around a medley of his most champion party voters. 

She champions you as she always has,

 She respects your need to get your life in order.

When you  left you,

You never even looked back.

Just another 2 weeks of holding onto your sac.

Its cool.

  When she plays with fire, what must she expect? 

 a bunch of free fries to go with her  Macccie D?

Had more time to cuddle. 

The best part was the silence.

It didn’t feel awkward, it felt right in the wrongest circumstance.

Feeling alienated from my family.

My friends.

Blue pills and champagne soften the blow. 

 Why are we celebrating?

Her perfect timing on how to right and sort out the logistics of it all and tamper with a heart is an epic disaster

-given to me by another.

No butter required!

The harlot pays her own way, just for the record.

Feeling impulsive, doped up and feeling not too shit. She thought she would wake up in A&E –

Some source has greater plans for her.

I don’t know how he can bear to look at her. 

She wants you to know that she  loves You G

the You! fallacy

THE YOU! FALLACY 

Just jotting my thoughts. I’ve been prompted to make a complaint.

little four eyes when you were half your current size -why did you doubt yourself so?

Looking back to a densely plotted past – hazy.

What would you have done knowing all people doubt themselves even if it means you becoming the foe?

‘Have no regrets’ – the tagline of the present.

no regrets, no regrets, no regrets.

When you are looking at granny in a catatonic state, unable to walk or talk. Fragments of images of people now gone, tell me you won’t wonder how life would have played out by taking assertive bets.

Complaints department – sizable queue. 

What can we do to answer people’s feuds?

Create a passage for people to commit to taking responsibility for themselves, sign that in ink and wrangle with their own moods.

Blame everyone.

You!

You,

and you!

well…… the list unfolds until it reaches the flaws of flooring.

Fingers pointing in every direction. Buckle up, prepare to look within and see how far you can go when you begin to see only you can change your state of deploring.

Control comes not from puppeteering others. Cut loose – let the strings fall.Let people walk,

hell! let them figure it out-  leave them to crawl.

Worry about how you are going to make it. What you need to do to advance in the dance – motions to elevate and bypass the savage instinct to maul.

How many complaints is your God of choice dealing with?

in Her brassic attempt to fulfil everyone’s wish

Did it ever occur to you to get off your indignant knees to check out the employment vacancies for extras needed to help your  God succeed in appetising your particular dish?

Stop giving control to others to fix your problems. You have a brain, how much has been wasted?

Think of the energy and time used in a  futile attempt to get people to see your view,

the moment before the curtains go down you have become the finale unstitched,  obtusely basted.

What do you do to make this world a better place?

What do you do to help us people stay in the race with human grace?

Life is never going to get easy – you’re never going to be 100%  fulfilled. There will always be a doughnut sized whole to fill.

Do you even know what it is you need to fix yourself?   In monetary terms, you will have to pay for your own self- advocacy bill.

Money, time and energy well spent making you a person who can figure out how to make sense.

Dig deep and take a deep breath-  Don’t be afraid to be a master of your own success.

To run away from your potential achievement will be your greatest offence.


The unsensational one dimensionals

 The pain inside me remains the real deal

It’s  a tragedy how I  only cruise on wordpress when I have tears dripping onto the steering wheel.

The journey that promotes me to tap away is always inspired by an ill gotten day.

Deal with the past. It’s too easy to blame.

I swear, I  look forward.

Stand up for where I  go wrong and who I  maim.

Revolving doors of asylum,  inpatient wannabe beauticians.

Incredulous  that  my  own mother

bipolar, institionalised,

beaten by her lovers and suffered her own ills.

Thinks its better to throw me behind the institution with E.C.T.  waves and the  barbed wire.

Jesus had a crown of thorns – aesthetically cruel in their Romanic decisions.

It’s  a loop on a loop.

more drama –

 Every.

Week.

It’s.

Something.

 New.

No.

every week its  the same song coming out in different shade of blue.

This won’t disappear by erasing my face from your mind.

My child is my glory.

You wonder why i can’t take this lying down?

 instead I give you the flamboyant, cussation  sign

 Call the crisis team.

We live in a Theresa May ,Tory sperm infested  government.

I’m not suicidal.

I’m not drinking

I’m not overdosing

 Not taking drugs.

Merely holding myself at a metaphorical  gunpoint.

I want to protect my family from the inner Iago in me.

Deceives and twists all the good my heart seeks to see.

A mighty herculean -blinded by rage.

Numbers  are his torment – he looks to  them like riches dripped in gold.

an obssesive compulsive disorder compells him to have less –

It  must be all light  and sage.

Alone , i wake up to the sound of silence.

No daughter to say good bye to ,

 no husband plodding about drinking coffee and watching QI on rinse.

In Africa I would be welcomed for my rise in weight.

I’m not in Africa.

I’m in a mind fed on media, with distorted ideas about what to look like.

Social media , I hate.

Insight is a curse -Ignorance is bliss.

Two weeks away from my deadline.

 Post graduate, Daisy willows , in the Humanities

I  should be riding out to the ocean to collect my sun’s kiss.

I feel like I’m there for everyone- I listen  to their woes.

I jump up and celebrate every time they make a success of their lives.

 They shine so bright – I call them my ‘little twinkle toes’.

I know I shouldn’t expect,

then I wouldn’t ‘t get disappointed.

I do,

 i do…

I do..

 life.

I keep up appearances until the night terrors pull me out of my bed, torture me under veiled sight.

 Days

 filled with  infected cuts and perceptions line up disjointed.

I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a family!

So, why do you get the hump when i have no other alternative but to call up the family intervention team?

I want my daughter to grow up without these bouts of fits & confusion.

the cycle of poorly managed mental health to skip a generation .

 Enough with another  ‘daughter following  in her mother’s  steps’ delusion.

There is more to the back lash of her tounge and callous remarks than plain  old wickedness.

We are a narrative of complex emotions bound up, in a body of flesh and bones.

look beyond your eye line fall.

Seek and you  will find a person who is not transparent -less.
Sick of seeking approval from social media one dimensional folk.

Cull the people who can’t see it for what it is.

 Fakery

 it’s  beyond a joke.

Cutting down on so called friends.

re catagorise my means to justify making  ethical ends.

 People see right through you

Unless your name is printed in black and white.

The best stars shine and go about unseen,

making wishes of hope seem bright.

Her rage tips over the sides – the current for those who get credit for being generico stereotype.

It’s all hype.

they barely even look alive.

I want justice.

I want the people who make a difference

 to get credit where its due.

I’ve had enough of this  fake bakery .

Diabetic shots brings out the bad assery in me.

I’m done with pretentious folk .

Emotional  vampires who expect.

Because they think they precribe the ideal look.

Its sad, a shame.

Don’t get caught up in the superficial.

Remember, reality goes way past the fantasy of this screen.

Cos we naturally wired to be a human being.

We need to communicate

 reciprocate.

Technology has purpose – it’s not for living life in a kumbaya state.

So many lies,

people all have ties

Issues-

That keep them  reaching out for 39p tissues.

I’m here for authenticity.

Denounce those who I see,

in all their duplicity.

I can’t be good and kind to all that seek attention.

selfish,

marred

 How tragic is this situation?

Goodbye to many of you.

who will never wake from your boggled  eyed fallacy.

I don’t do this out of spite or even maliciously .

I see clearly what and who holds me back.

My sole purpose is to stay on track.

So good bye to some of  those

I’ve met on my path

Good luck with your life and everything that comes with decisions aftermath.

I aint got no more energy for you.

My people, my life needs my attention. Arrears paid up –

Well overdue.

 Mini life update 14 days  until I  hand in my End Of Module assessment for year one of my Masters. 😛

I will have a post graduate certificate in the Humanities 😛🤓🤓

I have news….

A director (not name dropping) wants me  to send him my script about the homeless couple.

I don’t think Im going to……..

Or maybe I should …..

I don’t know.

I’ve never thought  I was a good enough writer to see my work brought to life.

It”s scary to think that success is possible.

Rejection is normal, but the more I distance myself from the people in my life who made/make me feel shit about myself, and my abilities, and my sense of belonging; the more I  meet  people who see the good in me .

 I don’t want to feel like shit around people.

So, I would rather be surrounded by a small number of those who are true and think I’m cool ish 😎😉.

Let the rest of world get their claws out in their need for attention, and to be heard.

 Be humble.

Life is a blessing already

One thing is for sure. I will never work for fame. I will always work for justice and what is right.

I’m struggling, but never will I give up or give in.

This heart beats.

These eyes have fire behind them

DAISY
Xxx

 

The lure of fascination 

 


Write to recover

Don’t underestimate the power of a few choice words from another.

Still the mind-frozen ice bar decline

Mountain conquest-The victory is in the scenic  songfest

Emotions sprayed in clouds of mist.

A place so far from  the abuse of the daily grit.

Fight to recover — remember hope thrives in another day

Feed and nurture this seed-give it an opportunity-don’t let another life sit and decay.

Losing time — people fragmented in a hazy rhyme.

Distance double flips somersaults. Impressive only till the sun dims less radiantly  clocking off to snooze-lay down with others in benign.

Can only write when thoughts form in  a Conga– order, progress-the dance in these words come from a heart who usually expresses mime.

Inflicted amoeba-exhaling indignant carbon monoxide. I despise seeking out for the ones cued up at destination  ‘one stop’,Integrity lost standing mid line.

Metamorphose into a grey lizard , eagle or indeed be reborn as the mighty phoenix.

Third degree  burns — death — ashes to ashes worth the pain to be reborn into the matrix.

The urge to sin imparts thoughts to defecate-all held sacred in the church of integrity.

Not enough to know the meaning-practice is what gives this value its credibility.

Walk the straight line — fight the inner hate crime.

Searching for a divine sign-reason dictates energy must endeavour with one’s moral  returning — to refine. 

Speak up for the light that waivers-clinging on to its last breath

Inspired by an element with the capacity to cause devastation or provide a clear path leading to expulsion ending in

 relief.

One wish to formulate all the intelligence into an honest medium of communication

History teaches-not all understand the world on multiple levels of perception of another situation.

Courage to flush  the contents highlighting the spiral of organic destruction.

One day at a time — one moment to lie. Craving for the mythical Elysium.

Compulsive tics  create a house of pain-exhaling tension-containing the nuclear fetus-nature’s own opium.

Losing track of the words that stumble — imbibed drunks-hungover searching for  a quench of delirium.

Evade – This is the time when courage fails to conquer

 life’s illusive temptations — the bell tolls-the seekers contort to fits of tingling.

Invisible to the faithful patrons in full  stasis cycle. A burden

a cross —

communication interrupted by Manic pleas to bear Atlas boulder with herculean madness lingering.

Cross eyed staring at the lit up pyres, 

The smell of human flesh disintegrates into a ritual released for those travelling the unknown path of death.

Reason can’t imprint enough ink — memories inclined to dementia bouts of forget.

Last night’s shallow breathing ,shadows taunt — loom over until the inner eye seeks regret.

Promises made in a plea of  chaotic desperation

Only to be forgotten the day after  the congestion lifts —   arise the sleeping urge to  compete with this  peculiar fascination

Why did I eat That? 😀🤔

Why did I eat that ? 

Any cat will know I’m gonna scream bloody hell I’m so fat.

If only I meant it like I’m cool dealing with  a belly

extended like a starved, fledgling Biafran

Doesn’t mean I’m happy when the scales groan  

-too much mass. 

Why did I eat that? 

inhaled beans, and camembert cheese , tuna and peas

Hard core, non divergent, box ticking  Anorexic.

 I can’t throw up. I can’t use laxatives.

I sit with my newfound rolls.

Puppy dog

not cute .

Eating disorder   you smutty little tease.

Why did I eat that?

Mushrooms to grow?

 Or shrink my stomach to  give off a sexy new  glow ?

Only so much fungi  I  can  mitigate when I’ve had an oral mastication blow.

This is not a pleasurable job.

Hands cover my eyes. No mirrors must  ever let me know.

Why did  I eat that ?

A memoir to torment myself – 30 tablets a day – neck it down

Sit on the psychiatrist’s couch.

How about we  lose the meds, you give me the cure

I can show off a palatable pageant, non dentistry crown.

Why did I eat that?

I need energy, Can’t go places without any juice

This ole devil gives me every sodamistic excuse.

The answer?

I’m feeling not quite right in the head.

I’m determined to  live out the next 30 years living free of   Bio-Pyscho-Social, self punishment  misuse.

Not a rant

known for ranting about the men who do me wrong.

Today

I don’t care enough to write about men who clearly hear beats from some other song.

Usually my posts carry at least 900 words.

Today –

Daisy , me – 37 year old, divorced and a mum with heart and

played,riffes strummed ,

duh dum!

Okay.. throw in a hum.

 

Thank you men who are wonderfully crazy

I’ve been their hazy daisy

Now is my time to pull back the sheets

and embrace my beauty ,my flaws without hearing insults thrown at me.

Not an easy caveat

 

I’m a lover ,Im’ a fighter ,I’m passionate,

I’m not a  pliable little girl.

I cry

I pick myself

I’m fierce.

A mama bear has fire

baby bear follows

in hesitant paws.

A Shrug.

My love.

My love.

My loves

are bigger than the swell of the Titanic

Meet the match you’ve stroked.

Daisy grew up.

Forever wild and passionate.

I know my worth.

I let men talk.

I let men walk.

Some men just want a woman to be who they need them to be.

Hey, I see the good –

I love the good in the men I’ve opened my heart to.

I would give my last penny or hug to someone even when I know it’s not going to work out.

Call me whatever you want .

Yes, I have a cunt.

I can bitch at times.

I’m possibly possessed ,fiery

even a witch.

No more interest in the chase – stop caring to write words about men who make less sense than my stream of consciousness works.

I’ll settle for a man who knows how to deal with grown ass women.

Flawed, beautiful , funny,weird ,crazy, dazed, Drugged ,sober , quiet , over talkative, skinny ,curvy, ill behaved, lovable, ditzy, smart -a conundrum of premium star dust.

If Men are afraid it’s because she- me knows what she wants.

run away and give way to a man I can adore.

This isn’t poetry, it ‘s me – never hide behind a front.

Daisy speaks her c’est la vie.




 

Daisy chains a stream of consciousness

You do that thing the others do.
Throw a googly-eyed look away
Well, am I stark raving mad?
Gnarly Serf on a wavelength similar
to loyal Harvey the dog of Sam.
One eye hung out precariously
Electrodes attached to its head.
Tortured by experiments
Wronged species deserve rites
two
Left-handed Nuns appear unGodly.
Impregnated 9 months later delivers a postpartum already dressed up in blue. Momentarily stunned by nausea pangs
Delivered momentarily still
Birth devoid of cries then a shout out hits my ears
He’s not breathing
Inarticulate mid sucking on gas and air queer eye of this realm I pray for skin contact
You worry about your own soul shell feed
I can’t mimic the A team
A letter murmuration in full Flight
Fight solo traversing oceans
awash with
Contemporary pirates chaffed from over self-masturbation.
See men wink & weep over Oats that taste so so…..
Self-destruction ejaculates an abundant pressure of love.
Images of enjoyment flicked out a nebulous cornea.
Scattered
Failure caught wind of future events impossible to foretell a farewell
That would be hell.
Eloquence raped of its plumage
Abreast Birds hearts juking at 160 bpm
The final crash coursing bloody soundbites around the ministry of meow-em’s mouth veins
Shed tears for our once feathered friends.
Ravens versus magpies
A sign glitters all is not well
Clear sight lights up a mass derelict graveyard.
Those blinded peacocks.
How they spent their lives chasing cataracts from the omniscient Third eye.
No remorse
What have I done?
Pushed away those doves, drowned out the screaming stars.
Irksome elements are the dwarfed remainders of a mind
bent against its will.
Teething the Tension
Widen the gaps in this pension cut
Tender.
Rise
this morn, big mouth
Gums gunned down left in a flap,
When is my end?
The highest peak.
A gaze overlooks
A future uncertain.
Stuck in reverse
Cold cuts down play -sessions.
Seek out fabricated modifications
Hide happiness with a common dividend.
We believe the 365 tales told
Thoughts toss flip
Look what ‘s up
Ahead,
step after step on stealth mines muddled.
For today I love you…
Enough,torture by anguish.
Sundowners gravity compel an early Eve to blush at seeing Adams
apple tree deceived
down
fall
a pair of knees tainted by grass painted in slithering silence.
Limber climber defy the mass cavity awaiting
Underground Unwanted guardian angels willingly discredit the Grim reaper
even
When the odds favour that one’s number is up.
Down?
Hope in one gulp.
Grim glass-eye stares longingly at well-beings thirst quenched.
Leaked buckets reveal the fluidity of
love.
Forget about recriminations.
Don’t carry an organ donor card
To part from the complexities of life
momentarily contemplate the features of creatures born
Free.
Will,
They graciously mutate into mere mortals as time calls it a day?
Surrender to terminal Life
Know Death can’t kill
Those already Buried under their own ills.

Sheep on suicide

Where is my mind?

The weed who has every right to declaim — life’s not fair.

I’m back , I’m here . And a round of applause for me.

I’m reclaiming my life!

Life is like tax credits. We have to keep on reclaiming it to make sure we get it.

For one reason only:

This is my life and I care.

separated from the one I thought I loved needed.

 woke up

  saw my life for what it really is

If that makes  me a hard bitch, emotionless or selfish.

I’ll take every adjective and I’ll mix it in with my next meal.

Add an extra portion of muscles and plenty of shellfish.

One life to choose.

Mine or another?

I choose me and my daughter.

Every. Single. Time.

I’m a cheater, I’m a druggie.  I’m crazy. I’m a …what? 

I ain’t got time for your nonsense,

Pack your shit up and get out;

so I can raise my family

to understand

people are human.

Some people keep on building the same rickety, useless fence over and over and over.

And then die.

If my vices-when activated

render me a misfit of society?

Bah j’en fiche!

Translation –

Whatever!  I don’t value your opinion.

I’m not suicidal.

I’m not a sheep.

I’ve been swimming since I was living in an amniotic sac.

Water baby.

Born and bred.

The water life chose me.

Life is not fair — don’t be patronizing. 

Boy ( you’ll be a man soon)

 Listen. I don’t need you or you  type.

I sure as hell, don’t want you.

What about all I’ve done for you.

I  literally picked you off the street.

Must I go into detail ….

Nah! Bro.

My issues.

My mind.

I’m dealing with it.

I can’t hit a button and go on the rewind.

My daughter.

My daughter. 

Her bond to me- is first and foremost.

She’s already living a lie.

I have to explain to her  who her biological father is.

Parents walk away every day from their children.

Others do step  up

and do good by them.

Until… abuse and disrespect start again.

Back off deal with your emotions.

Cut the strings. Grow a ..ahem

Pair of wings.

Fly – be ambitious — live your life.

You want to be role model?

Live your life.

Make something.

Anything.

That is the greatest show of love you can bestow on a child.

Show them –

yes, life is unfair.

No one ever said it was easy.

Nobody wins a prize for it.

Depending on your religion.

 If you want a prize

go pick one and go with it.

We just  gotta keep going on,

Don’t lose sight of that lighthouse.

It will bring us back to shore.

I can’t carry another dead weight.

I need to save myself and my child.

I was drowning in all of your shit.

BLAH!

BLAH!

BLAH!

The ones I chose to sleep with, and play a game of common whores.

We can all do  chores

We can all be whores.

We can all be bores.

Genderize it. Put it into context.

I look around me and everyone with ‘a stick to throw’ has disappeared.

I’m on my knees.

 

A new dawn, a new day.

New gossip to come —  Lodi Dodi  -there’s some tussle or gossip to come from some other party.

(Slick Rick reference)

Fodder for the foraging masses.

Self brainwashing

I don’t owe you an explanation

time,

money,

me!

If  being busy is a sign of vindictiveness

If saying no- is a sign of vindictiveness-

Throw  that hoop on me.

And I’ll hula hoop my way into ‘the vindictive dance award’s category.

What else can you/people  throw at me?

It hurts more when I’m unstable, high – not using my resources.

When I’m me. I can take it.

It doesn’t hurt.

big heart

Increasingly

Selective.

my journey,

my life —its where I’m at

Live for yourself.

miserable human lives for someone else’s approval.

Trust me, I’ve tried, never lied, nothing to hide.

Everything to gain

 lose my sanity, possibly my child?

My Biggest gamble.

 willing to take my own life.

You’re stood there  crying like you are’ the shook one.’

I’ve stepped into reality.

Scraping dog shit off my shoes every day.

 willingly believe dog shit is a sign I’m going to receive good news.

willingly believe that  I have what it takes to make it — Again.

 gasped my first breath in years.

lookup,

see beauty,

the stars,

see promise.

Not willing to let you cripple me

see another way-

see another route never said I cared about you or him or that.

probably did.

probably did

probably do. This is where I am at.

I do not answer to you.

Or you –

maybe you.

I know who I have to answer to.

Pass me more tissues

aware of my issues.

My life or yours?

I’d be certifiable insane if I  allow me to take more attempts on my life.

On a final note

‘I am an artist and I’m sensitive  about my shit ‘

TECH N9NE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKs5OsT4dIY

 

 

 

  • Photo credit Francesca  Woodman