I carried ‘me’

(sorry this is an angry poem… but the moral is that you have your back no matter what don’t fall on someone else always look after yourself! 🙂

I carried me

I have this
horrible
gut feeling
that something more
is coming
no way did I frighten you?
seriously?
you didn’t seem frightened or terrified when you was trying to put your tongue down my throat
you didn’t seem scared or terrified when you was trying to get me to sleep over
you didn’t seem worried or petrified when I knock on your door
you didn’t seem scared or cared when you offered to take me back home!
I carried me!
I carried me!
you was nowhere to be found
I carried me!
I carried me!
I put my feet back on the ground

I have this horrible gut feeling
that something is about to happen
I want to prevent it but I just can’t seem to handle
you really think I’d make this up and go out all my way
do you really think I believe your shit that you didn’t like me because you thought that you was gay?
burry me in lies and things I would never dream or do
as long as your back is clear for you to carry on and pursue
and if she is non the wiser than fool her and fool you
I carried me!
I carried me!
you was nowhere to be found.
I carried me!
I carried me!
I put my feet back on the ground.
I carried me!
I carried me!
you was up there smoking crap
I carried me!
I carried me!
you took my heart now give it back

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benefits mum

hello its me
another benefits mum
another where the fucks my child maintenance?
skint at the end of the week
if i rent a house they need 6 month bank statements
in case i’m dodgy
nothing is private

hello its me
another benefits mum
I’ve had my housing delayed
rent nearly late
I made it
tried to get work
but the childcare cost more than a roof and food combined

Hi its me another benefits mum
apart from i’m always off my bum
i’m walking around these streets day in and out repeatedly
and now i’m
another mum asking another mum for a lump sum
to get some food for the little ones

its me
such a strange life to be
when money is controlling me
trapped in a system
patriarchy
cant break free
politicians put a number on me
like a cow in a field
and the media makes me sound like i am some kind of scum
but its hard i have little ones calling me mum
so i must have a responsibility
but the pressure society puts on me
makes me feel like i cant breathe
people assume its how i want to be
but
i could imagine being anywhere better…..

Letter 8 Rizlas

August 2005

dear,

I went to the park on my own today, hoody, joggers green NIKE trainers. I didn’t intend to go out and meet anyone, I just wanted to get out as its the summer holidays and they have been so boring this year. I normally just sit with my headphones in from my mp3 player, sometimes playing the boring album. You can only maybe get 1 or 2 albums on at a time and I don’t have that many CDs to start with anyway, maroon 5 is getting a little bit repetitive.

There where these lads here today that came over to me and started talking one was a little round and tried to bike around on top of the chopped up bark flooring, another one sort of skinny and has glasses and the 3rd he was oldest 15 and seemed a bit scruffy. And my god they could have done with a shower.

One of the lads asked what my name was , and I said Lilyth but it took them awhile to get there tounges around it. Asking me why I was on my own and why I’m not playing with anyone, and I tried to explain that no one I know was around here or out.

I got off the swing and went towards the climbing frame and we sat in the under part, away from the rain. The oldest lad was boasting about how he had learned how to roll cigarettes and that he smokes. He was a lot older than me but we didn’t seem to different. I don’t understand why they smelt so bad, I’m guessing that’s puberty or something. Oh, and they started asking if I was single , that was a little awkward.

Anyway the oldest lad was called Luke and he was really cute and I was telling him off saying he shouldn’t be smoking and that he is too young. When he wasn’t looking I took the packet of Green Rizlas off him. He seemed pretty lost I couldn’t help but think that the summer holiday had been a bit tough for him too.

They walked me home.

August 20th

I’ve been at dads all this week, mum said that the boys from the park keep coming to knock for me I told her to give them my number so I could text.

September 3rd

Mum called me today I haven’t been able to see her for some time dads been driving me around all his work places and I’m back at school this week I cant believe they’ve been knocking for so many weeks, I said to her again to give my number then I could text them, she must keep forgetting.

November 9th

Mum said that it is the last time that them lads call for me and she said she told them not to call on me anymore because I don’t live with her. I said it wasn’t my fault I wasn’t asking them to call on me. I feel a little bit sad though, I’ve put the Rizlas in one of my boxes and put it under the bed.

August 2009

I’ve been clearing out my bedroom now that I have to get ready for GCSE work, when I found this small thing of cig papers. I cant believe that I had them in my room for so long.

anxiety my chains

Anxiety my chains
.
I’m shy,
but not really,
smile,
but I’m                  secrectly,
crying.
I’m laughing!
silent,
but I’m chatting!
.
I’m shy,
but not really.
I’m cold,
and im needy.
the
attention
you
give
me
smokes
like
fire
in my belly.
and im ready,
when your ready…
slow  ,
but I’m steady,
quick,
and on edge,
anxiety.
my chains
just want to feel,’normal’ again.
.

belongs to me

belongs to me
.
my body,
is for my enjoyment,
every strap,
every lace,
every mark,
beauty spot,
it belongs to me.
my body is,
MY temple,
and I will not give you one piece!
if I choose to share with you,
then you,
shall respect it,
as if it is your own,
it is not for you to comment,
I will not be objectified,
sexualised,
or demonised,
I do things for my own satisfaction,
no man, No other,
not for their joy,
entertainment,
my body it belongs to me.

utterly devoted

Utterly devoted
and
paranoidly overwhelmed
that there is nothing better
ever better
something
somewhere
in this world.

utterly devoted
slaving
in worship over you.

digging bigger holes
landing me in limbo
catch 22

utterly devoted
obsessed
head mess
digressing, bed sweating.
over you.

I know its taking over,
but my thoughts are warmer,
when I think of you.
I am and as I stand utterly devoted.

i’d give love, for arms

right now
I’d do anything
I’d give my self away
just to be heard again

right now
I’d do anything.
I’d steal
I’d beg
I’d plead
just to get this one thing that I need.

right now
I’d be more than happy
to offer, all my life
for love it has no price
not just a sacrifice
leave a sour taste for afterlife
and I know its not much in return
and I don’t think I will ever learn
but I would give my whole
pour all my heart and soul…

I’d give love,
just for your arms.

gone

it’s really starting to hit home
that your gone.. and I’m alone
and I hate this selfish feeling for need,
its unsettling me,
that your gone,
and the memories…
all muddled into one,
become fog,
like we never ever met,
seems wrong,
I hate it,
its horrible,
we can’t and dont talk,
and I go around in circles in my head all day,
telling myself all the bad,
making it sound good.

What kind of poet are you ?

He asked me
Half heartedly
“What kind of poet are you?”
You said you didn’t really read,
But I smiled when I saw that you watched tv with the subs,
“What kind of poet are you?”
A question no one really was too interested to ask,
You don’t ever judge me,
Just look,
Watch me rambling on as ever,
‘Why can’t we just be together?’
In that moment It seemed perfect,
That was then and this is now,
Whilst I thought about what kind
Of poet I am,
I realised I don’t have to be a type,
You seemed to have taken an interest,
That made me hopeful,
A hopefully romantically lost poet I was,
You left me in an ally way in the dead of night,
Now a dangerous poet I am.

To the friends at jobcenter; please get a waiting room for families and children.

In February/ March time I was rocky on my feet and needed to start up a new life and new claim , and carry on my journey to attempting to revisit my degree which I hope to be doing later this year. It was 30mph record winds and I had arrived early at the centre with my 7 month old daughter and 3 year old son. He was cold and shivering so I went inside the job center only to be told to get out and that I’m not allowed to stand inside and that they took away the waiting room. So this is a poem based on a bad time, and a stinky attitude.
*
You can kick me out on my arse,
Make a deal,
Make a farce,
Make me look like I’m a mess!
A waste of space, a waste of breath,
You can chuck me out on my arse!
You can make me look like I’m useless,
But take it out on my kids,
My Baines,
You’ll see a woman, that you’ve made,
I scrape and scrimp, I raise and wimp,
A generation for the next tax profiting chimps,
You think I’m dumb,
No, I’ve had enough,
Now get a waiting room made for us!
Make us stand in freezing cold,
To sign on for money that I have been told,
I must claim whilst I’m on a break,
I’m sick,
Disabled,
Just child birthed,
And if you haven’t heard,
Marriage is dying off!
Men seem to get off lightly?
And this is what disturbs me slightly!
That you can,
You can kick me out on my arse!
Make a deal,
Make a farce,
Make me look like I’m a mess!
A waste of space, a waste of breath,
You can chuck me out on my arse,
You can make me look like I’m a waste,
But take it out on my kids!
My Baines ,
You’ll see a woman that you’ve made…

I’ll get you through

She held my hair softly,
Straightens at the ready,
It will be ok,
Everything will be fine!
Laugh a smile.

I will get you through.
I got you.

She peered over the garden wall,
Brew to hand never cold,
It will be ok,
Everything will be fine!
Laugh a smile.

I will get you through,
I got you.

She recieved my text essay,
Oh how my life has started to get messy,
She might be far, but always there,
Don’t worry,
Everything will be ok,
Everything will be fine.

Text a smile.

I will get you through.
I got you.