Rebirth

Static sounds Talking mouths   Pause, play, rewind programmes to find   Brain washing by the government   Watch, learn, repeat   You have no say in your actions   Everything is a distraction   They see that you are weak

I cannot count all the reasons why I love you One will come to mind & A hundred will follow It’s much deeper than a present Or your clothing that I borrow I’ll look into your eyes & my mind will be a no show The feeling of your breath on my skin As we sleep Our love is real But all you do Is make me dream 4 years later & you still make me beam A power couple & The perfect team I love you x

Looking down at the flames Causes tears in the eyes It’s warm down there But the clouds are right Bubbling below is the bustling city life It felt like home Until you moved from the lights Home is where the heart is and My hearts here with you My mind altered reality But now I know Who is who

I can only write ‘properly’ When I use a fountain pen When other pens are in my hand I lean against my ring finger In my right-hand - Is it still called a ring finger? My thumb holding it in place My index and middle finger floating Somewhat out of the way My right-handed ring finger has a writer’s bump - Always has and always will So why do I write ‘properly’ With a fountain pen? Well... The ink leaks all over my fingers

Crumpled up Pom-Bears With broken toes A crackled scream After the shoe falls low. To anyone else It's crisps on the floor But it's a family dead... Decapitated and all. Mummy bears porridge was way too cold I guess she helped everyone else out first. Now look at the bears, It's a shitty sight. No burial or ceremony They're displayed proudly Brutally murdered And they'd hardly put up a fight...

I have never felt so alone Surrounded by people But where are the real humans?   The ones who are awake Ready The ones who refuse a mundane conversation   I'm sorry if I become impatient With your description of the tree outside   But there are bigger issues

I come from... My heart My brain & my soul I come from a place Where I feel most at home My parents & nationality Have no influence For the place That I come from It comes from within The way that I dress My hobbies & life Is something I’ve chosen I’ve just improvised

When things come to head While lying in bed Bits and pieces of realisation Abandonment fucked me over And I’ve lived every second Ignoring it Coming to terms with it Accepting that it’s real life Not playing on it When I could have Couldn’t face going to my mother’s funeral Just worked Every time my dad broke my heart I shrugged and accepted it Because that’s all he did and still does I should have trust issues From this amount of hurt Yet I don’t I’m grateful for everything

Despite what I say… I love children Especially the inquisitive ones Their little questions about Mundane things Like “Why is the sky blue?” & “Why is the grass green?” I could shrug it off because I don’t know the answer, but Where’s the fun in that? We could spend a whole day Learning the answers together People tell me I’d be a good mother But it will probably never happen I won’t be continuing my bloodline It should stop after me Why would you bring a child Into this mess?

When I get up tomorrow I’ll start a brand new page Or perhaps a new chapter If anything crazy happens Like a death or a marriage or something But realistically I’ll wake up Look at cats on Instagram... Shower... Work out what to wear Even though I look the same everyday I’ll walk to work Blaring tunes Put on a smile for 8 hours But I’m tired and losing my patience With everyday being the same When is something fun going to happen?

Abortion is a difficult word to say Because No matter what We will always be fighting Pro-choice versus pro-life Who will win Who is right Tory versus Labour And black versus white I am sick of racism and shit Because it’s 2023 and you’re still worried about Someone else’s skin colour What is wrong with ya We’re exhausted Hearing about complaints left right and centre Because you’re not living how they want you to live I repeat You’re Not living how They Want You To live Gott

She sat alone In a box room A rented prison Until she could sit No more Everybody knew her & She knew them Every morning A coffee run Lasted hours Catching up She played musical chairs With different shops & different people Until everything was closed & everyone was gone So She came home to sleep & The next day She did the same thing In the same order All year on repeat

Victim mentality attracts villains To screw you over It gives them the okay to Come into your life When you’re trying to heal They drain your energy Drain your wallets Drain your confidence Vampires are real And then you thank them Because you think that They helped make you But the only thing they made you Was look like a fucking fool So fuck you You fucking fucks A fool I am no more My eyes are more open Than My arms ever were For you

A vicious cycle of writing a book I get so far until my brain Switches off 10 poems left & I’ve gone all soft Why did the brutal & Honest words Get lost? I want the book done It’s taken so long I’ve got future plans But that’s all wrong Come on brain Tune into your energy Change the channel Find the best frequency I hear a crackle and everything is silent Social battery is gone The creativity has Turned violent

Veggie breakfast Yet a pint of fish guts And a cup of coffee He takes it in turns Sipping the drinks Like a sibling Handing out sweets I think the beer might be older though Or the favourite child That one was drank slightly quicker It’s a bit early for sweets And beer But try telling that to everyone in here - Wetherspoons at 9AM

Sitting in a public space Reading a book Will attract the largest Loudest Messiest family Just by opening a book Your body language somehow screams Come sit next to me Start a conversation… Hell I even offer babysitting And life advice sessions… Free of charge All because I appear knowledgeable Don’t worry Your kids are safe with me While you go get a pint of beer or vodka Or whatever the fuck you parents drink I can’t exactly go back to reading my book When your 3-year-old i

What does your brain sound like?  And hear me out Because it’s something I’ve thought quite a lot about... Are there voices? When you read a book or something... Whose voice can you hear? Someone else’s or your own? Now I ask this because... I used to hear a man’s voice  And it was really weird I don’t know who he was But he was older, calmer, and had a soothing voice… Maybe he was a real person, and he heard my voice too But I think he died

There’s a spillage from the table All the way to the door A trail and a mess All over the floor Although I’m a barista It’s not what you think There’s no slippery when wet For it’s not just a drink Upon closer inspection It should be a pair The owner that had them Must be in despair Full coverage Two steps Now an open toe Hundreds and thousands A lace and a sole Oh my god The spillage It’s a broken shoe How this occurred you don’t have a clue So you sweep and you sweep Retrac

She has a tea He has a pint A phone call on speaker for everyone to hear She is chewing her tea after each swig He nods approvingly to his daughter on the other end Although she cannot see him Catching up Buh-bye Love you He smiles and is content His wife Quiet Still chewing her tea

Little black notebook With a phone placed on top Two menus fanned out to block the view in Or stop the conversation getting out   I can’t see what she’s eating But it smells like fish and chips He has chicken and chips...   They both sip their hot drinks In white mugs   He clasps his hands and leans in intently Nodding at her remarks   But is he a therapist or her son?   He wears a smart grey blazer and brown brogues She has a plastic JD Sports bag and Nike beaten-down traine