faceless in my dreams

you come to me faceless

every night for the last 3 nights
you come to me same words
I scream
‘stop it stop it come back
please ‘
my voice drifts off into the breeze

I collapse my feet give up
the night draws in. the doors are shut. the room in spins into another memory
I grow to forget of you and me.

every night for the last 3 nights
I’ve been in a struggle,
in a fight.
to go to sleep to close my eyes
incase I see you by surprise
just like you’ve gone
just like you’ve died
I just want to be by your side
but I’m just a waste of space
and im your sour aftertaste.

stop visiting me faceless in my dreams
stop talking to me please
stop showing up and haunting me
I’m trying to forget our memory
stop visting me faceless in my dreams
it’s to much for me to see
I can’t escape in the day it seems
what would the next option be at least?

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maybe girls

Maybe girls

maybe girls
from what you say
from your version
of your reality
maybe girls lead you on
maybe girls have been wrong
don’t put me under the assumption
just because they caused you problems
doesn’t mean that I am one of them (a problem)
maybe girls where young back then
maybe girls didn’t know how to feel
but I know
I just know
that whatever you think you did wasn’t wrong
it was
the way you talk about girls
treat girls, is bad
you say those girls they asked for it
you say thier jeans where ripped and her hair was slick, her lips, her face the makeup, all indicated it, asked for it,
the eyes you could see it all in their eyes,
and their level of intoxication,
outweighed your thoughts and desperation,
maybe girls just wanted to look nice,
maybe girls just wanted to dance,
be human,
maybe girls shouldn’t have to put up with shit like this,
feeling watched and judged like they need permission to live.
maybe girls are happy without a dick,
maybe that is what the truth is.

Groggy

groggy-

noise is just noisy
and my hair is all knotty
hands, feet, ache.
I feel like I’ve been bitten by a snake
last night was sort of heavy
and I really wasn’t ready
to hear all the news
of your latest affair
I’m done with being perfect
if you want me, you’ll make it work
if you don’t, then I don’t care
at least I made my point clear
I don’t think
I will make drinking my hobby
I’m feeling sort of
groggy.

Ferris Wheel

I almost remembered how it feels
spinning like a Ferris wheel
I’ve never been good and controlling
scenarios tend to unfold in
situations I’m holding back on
never know what you’ve got till it’s gone
you made me realise
there’s always more behind the eye
almost remembered how it feels
spinning like a Ferris wheel
colours lights that sickly feeling
unknown exceptions and bruises healing
forgetting about where I’ve come from, been in,
all the pain almost going gone, dreaming,
my heads mad and visions blurry
it’s actually really scary dancing late night in heels
drinking, cig tabs, lipstick, cocktails and all the while I’m smiling, remembering how it feels spinning like a Ferris wheel 😍 🎡

helter skelter

Helter-skelter
She likes it so much
She scrunches the paper up
Slips it in her pillow case
Takes a screenshot just in case
Bitter envelope for a court case
Tired of winding up bad taste
She hates it
But still reads this shit
Like it’s aimed at it
When it’s not anything to do with it
I’m tired lady
Let me sleep lady
I have 3 babies
Get out my face lately
It’s not cool
I left school
So long ago
Just take me home
I can’t do it
Just do it
I’ll be done with this
In a moment please

I get it
You’ve had your whole half life defending your actions
Dealing with shitty attitudes
I get it
It’s not easy
So don’t attack me
Look at the person you see
Look at the vulnerability
He puts to you and me
We a scars
From broken jars
And penny sweets
The ones we didn’t eat
Empty vases
And empty birthday cards with
No names addressed in
Relationships we’ve invented in
Romantic gestures, we cast a shadow
With Shallow men
Who got us into bed.
I get it
We are roses
Without the petals
We are nettles
With freckles
trauma labours…

We live in life
Like
Far in
Heights
We are the stripes
Rugged carpets
See you later dads
And
Are you fucking glads,
A messed up pretty sight,
Look you’ve got the same ticket, right?
You can go to the side
or take the
Helter Skelter ride,
down the slide,
you decide.

Why i write poetry

Why I write poems

I didn’t think I would have to do a post like this I feel like this is my only defence as its been happening a few times this year now. The odd troll and the odd person who continue to attack me through social media.

I have met some pretty amazing people that I wouldn’t have met if it wasn’t for myself pushing myself out there and going to events. It took me months to get up onto the stage and read a poem and it taken me years to do anything like what I am doing now.

I know I have a small audience in which I cherish, and I won’t ever know if the audience will grow. But I am happy with where I am right now in the poetry journey and writing journey.

Its been so hard to find the confidence to do this I have never had much confidence in anything even growing up as a kid.

I haven’t done any of this to harm anyone I just love writing.

But I have now been pushed into a corner where I feel like I have to explain why I write, I know that I have lost some friends because I have been writing and sharing but that’s fine maybe I surprised them maybe it’s not their taste…

I know that some people assume they know all the meanings behind the poems but really it is for your own imagination some are from experiences some aren’t some are made up some are from other peoples lives and love stories. Growing up in a fucked up cyber communication world.

Some are about people that have been in and out of my life, they’re not all about the same person or event.

Lastly, I have never forced anyone to read any of my work. I knew that I would face challenges doing this and sharing on such wide platforms. I never would have thought that I would have to feel like I must explain myself and I hope I wont need to again.

I love words, I love emotive language and expression , imagination , notebooks pens, I love hearing from people who tell me that my poem made them cry happy made them think made them want to write and send me a poem to read. Its just amazing and I feel now I have only been able to talk to these people through the internet that I cant leave them now.

I just want to be able to write freely, be myself.
Like all the other amazing poets I’ve met this year.

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…..

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.
.

1st of August 2013 Letter 1 : “it should of been me”

“It should of been me”
1st of August 2013

Dear…

Hello, we’re half way there in one of my dads friends car.

First day without Bella away from home, I haven’t travelled very far in about 4 years. There isn’t too much to talk about on the way although there probably should have been.

It was nice just looking out of the car window at the scenery, something other than Hull.

I’m 18 and today I’m feeling very confused about the whole day. I was told to dress colourful. I didn’t really get a great chance to know her all that well. I felt like I knew her slightly. I remember being told to leave her alone there where a few words and I was ushered to the side.

She always said I was welcome to talk to her so I don’t know why dad didn’t like that.

It was only last month that I was told she was sick. I can’t believe now that she’s actually gone.

11:40

We’ve just arrived with a few hours to spare, I haven’t seen him in a year so I was excited to see him again. Although I realised this wasn’t a family reunion.

11:54

My dad walked over didn’t really say much , still looked the same, still pacing around on edge, still absent but understandable more so today out of all days. He walked me around the village and the place he had been staying. She always had an eye for beautiful fascinating decorations, I remembered dad telling me one of the first things about her, that she loved being creative and making stained glass windows.

12:45

Dad was trembling whilst getting ready for church “what have I done?” He said I didn’t know what he was on about. “What do you mean ? You’ve done the best you could have” I responded.

He opened the cupboard and boxes and tubs and bottles of pills fell out onto the floor. It was all the medication she needed to help her whilst she was unwell.

“I went to get the prescriptions, I gave her the medicine , it should have been me!” He explained. He then went on to say that he had enough pills left to finish it all. I could tell he was hurting and clearly needed help I didn’t know what to say as his 18 year old daughter.

It wasn’t his fault and I told him that it wasn’t the medication it would have been the cancer, he did all he could have done.

1pm

Everyone was arriving now, I was told to dress in colourful clothes.

Everyone else was in black.

dear reader

dear readers….

I would like to thankyou for all your time and support on my creative writing journey. I am honored to share my poems with you my posts about my life and journey. I would really like to now take this opportunity to write even more…

I know I have my own style and specific audience and that’s fine.

Even if I get one person reading
that is massive to me and means a great deal…

I would like to welcome you to the next 31 Days of August where I will be writing in the style of a diary in Letter form. You guessed it! Lettersyoullneversee original.

I want to be able to write an expressive form of writing, I don’t want to refrain or take out things, I want this to be an original piece of work. I don’t know where the journey will land me, if viewers will read, if people will enjoy it.

that’s OK, so long as that one person is with me every step of the way. I will try to keep up with it best I can.

now…. I want to warn anyone who is used to usual content, the letters written in a diary entry are from some true life events, some are real characters some maybe made up or over emphsised. This is written for an adult audience and not aimed at children. Based on the mind of a child, pre teen and young adult, in jumbled formation. There is 100% no intent to cause anyone upset or distress.

Tomorrow I welcome you to Lettersyoullneversee 2019 Letters!

Thankyou again for reading

Much love, yours truly 😘

Lilyth