Trusting

Trusting

I took you in
Like I forgot all bad
I pressed restart
And now
I lay here
I’m regret looking up in the dark
I treated you like a puppy
But you bit like a shark
And I gave you
A section
Tiny section of my heart
But you took the whole lot
And now I’m startled
Don’t know where to start
And I’m
Frozen…
Stood in the middle of a war zone
Battling emotions I never knew I even had
Happy keeps dancing away with sad
And I’m
Punishing myself
Thinking why did I even let you in
How on earth could I be so trusting.

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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.

Warm body

I want to leap into a story of unknown,
I want to dance with a Merry man not his ghost,
I’m tired of holding on to this body,
Yeah this corpse,
I’ve had it hidden, in multi-storeys, for so long ,
And under the table lays the floor boards,
Unscathed but warm, 
Im trying to be a better person but I’m torn, 
I hope he forgives me for being absent but still holding on, 
I try to keep it private I don’t want many people to know, 
But here he sits with me at the end of the table eating dinner, 
like I don’t need nothing more, 
crack the bottle pass it over 
he gave it a pour, 
He thought it was over never over here we mourn, 
And I gathered all his belongings left them with him, as I held his fingers and closed the dustbin, 
Rubber gloves and rubber ducks from washing up the dirty shower floor, 
I want to leap into a realm a story of unknown, 
I want to dance with a Merry man and not his ghost, 
Yeah I’m tired of holding on to his body his corpse, 
I had it hidden, in multi-stories, of this house,
for 
so 
long.

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.

These streets

These streets:

No one knows about these streets,
Raising kids among these streets,
Drugs and alcohol, bare feet,
Lonely animal,
These streets,
No one cares about these streets,
All up and down, in these streets,
Don’t cross their path, these streets,
Negative energy, feel weak.

Council meetings about these streets,
Rubbish flying round,
Nice treats.

Push you to the ground,
these streets,
Money drives the crowd,
these streets,
Do not make a sound,
In these street.

… look what I have found
To anxious to be about
In these streets
Spare a little change
And everything stays the same….

Welcome to the avenue.

sunny now

now…

its sunny now.

I hope you thought about me,

the winter has faded away,

its strange you didn’t stay,

I live another day.

it’s sunny now,

and I miss the conversations,

delayed, deliberations,

heart racing kisses,

surely love grows more,

beneath the sun?

and I look out,

for you.

I snuck out,

for you,

I fell over,

bruised,

just to lose,

I’m a fool.

it’s, sunny now, the winters faded, and I’m just glad infact I’ve made it! and I wish you was here to feel it too, the beautiful sun shine on our faces, feels like it has been ages…

I will look out for you

You Fucking Broke my heart: Letter 1

Letter 1

S.Street

Hull

Dear stranger,

I was walking earlier down the street, couple of tears.

Nothing I couldn’t cover up and beat.

I imagined you being civil, oh how sweet that could be, you sat down on the bench.

Sat down next to me.

You pulled up the bottoms of your trousers, even though your tall, that shouldn’t really bother you…your black dirty boots slam with force to the floor.

The pavement is under us.

The bus shelter is smelly and there’s chewing gum on the bench,

I’m trying to think right despite all the stench.

Your bright yellow t-shirt, I fucking hated cleaning them, and your stupid fucking cap with your greasy hair from the vents.

We sat and it was silent like the world had finally given us a chance.

We didn’t need to get violent, or fall back in love and dance.

We needed solidarity, a solution, something that would both make us content.

Whether

that

would

happen,

I don’t know,

but we can try,

Better

yet.

I needed to tell you,

I waited like some kid like I did with him,

don’t blame me,

I was raised on fairy tales,

dreams

and

the ability to hope.

I never learnt how to cope.

but

As soon as you think its a lecture,

you stand up to walk away from the truth,

I guess, I thought we was even,

since you enjoyed smoking dope,

something that helped you.

the ability to cope?

^

Imagine that this bus stop,

isn’t in the place that you think,

its in the middle of a field,

no bus lane,

no smoke

no lies

just cuddles and a cry.

^

For one last fucking time…

things could have changed,

they did change,

they changed in a blink,

I wish,

I didn’t have to speak,

in riddles and twists,

but you Fucking Broke my Heart,

it’s strange….

I thought it was already broken,

I felt you take it,

from me…

…..P.T.O