it didn’t make me

trigger warning.
…………….. it didn’t make me…………….

the cursed lisp from your foul mouth inside this grumbled house,

the scrunched up fist and fiery wisp of your curved swift lift and shift and bam! … hours in dark
and no where to park
the hungry meal times
and no teabags left behind,

kettle left unplugged
and sink all bunged up,
no paper left to wipe,
no blood left to bleed,
the garden that’s just rubble,
scattered earth and rocks,
letters the post man forgot
and debts that keep coming back to cut throat,
a charming reminder of the neighbours loud rough barking,
from their dogs scraping on the fence, the wood,
let them in, let them in!
the hen parties and
the gathering of others,
the non invitations and the missed out celebrations,
the ones who forget and forgive and regret and revenge the sticking up parts of my hair on the end,
of my arms.
the foul mouthed lisp
from your chiselled chin and
curled up crunched fist.
me. ……………

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