Writer’s Block

I try to write but the words fail.

Sit, think, smoke, exhale.

As I reach for the coffee cup,

I wonder if my time is up.

Have I forgotten you,

Is that what this is?

The reason I can no longer write this shit?

Or could it be this depression is finally lifting?

Maybe the all encompassing darkness is shifting?

Perhaps after all this time my heart is mended.

And my love affair with words has ended.

(Originally Posted 11.08.2019)

My Younger Self

If I spent time with my younger self, what would I say?

Well done for putting up with this bullshit every day

If I spent time with my younger self, what would I see?

A weary acceptance that life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be

If I spent time with my younger self, what would I feel?

An overwhelming sadness that time will never heal

If I spent time with my younger self, what would I do?

Tell them to pack a bag and run away with you

(Originally Posted 24.07.2019)

If You Like

Stitch my wounds, if you like
I want to feel the pain
Don't call me a silly girl
For I'll only do it again

Ask me why, if you like
But you will never understand
The need, the comfort, the urgency
Those scissors close at hand

Leave me here, if you like
Walk away if you dare
Just remember I never asked for your help
Or your tender loving care

Forget I exist, if you like
It will not bother me one bit
For I'll always have my trusty blade
And carry my own first aid kit

(Originally Posted 08.04.2019)

The Faceless Female

She’s back again,
the little control freak,
whispering from my shoulder.

She never really goes away,
despite my efforts to brush her aside
or however much I grow older.

I’ve never once turned to look
at her whilst I try hard to
drown out her speech.

But I never forget
she’s there, berating me,
and bleeding me like a leech.

(Originally Posted 04.08.2019)

Fate

I wish I’d never met you.

Life would be easier then.

If I’d never met you

I wouldn’t have to forget you.

And I would be happier then.

(Originally Posted 09.03.2019)

Bottled Memories

I’m glad
I kept
your aftershave,
so that I
can wear
it too.

It’s the
only thing
that I
have left,
that keeps
me close
to you.

(Originally Posted 14.06.2019)

If He Goes, I Go

When he asked if she was OK, she smiled and nodded her head.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she wished that she was dead.

When he brushed the tears from her eyes, she winced and turned away.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she wished that he could stay.

When he held her for the last time, she knew she would get her wish.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d already planned for this.

(Originally Posted 23.06.2019)

Sometimes

Sometimes it's easy to think about you.
Our memories overwhelm me,
I feel the touch of your hand in mine,
and my eyes sparkle with joyous delight.

Sometimes I can't think about you at all.
My brain shuts off the pathway to the pain, 
My lungs stop taking in air,
and my heart, momentarily, stops beating.

Sometimes it's easy to talk about you.
Words fall from my mouth,
stories flow like vintage wine, 
and my smile is as wide as the horizon.

Sometimes I can't talk about you at all.
Sentences fail to form in my head,
my voice dries up like a parched riverbed, 
and my mouth is clamped like a vice.

(Originally Posted 22.03.2019)

The Siren

I hear her calling my name,
Luring me to the murky depths.

Her song, beckons me.
Her promise, tantalises me.

I am compelled to listen.
I am urged to respond.

But she is all the way out at sea,
And I never learned to swim.

(Originally Posted 23.04.2019)

Murderer

My heart is empty now;
it can never be filled.

My life is over now;
my spirit you have killed.

(Originally Posted 16.07.2019)

Random #54

‘So you can wipe off that grin

I know where you’ve been

It’s all been a pack of lies…’

Oscar

'The reed used to like the rain...

... But that was merely her selfishness'

Wilderness

Never amongst so many people

Have I felt so alone

I really do not want to stay

But know I can’t go home

Yet for all the kindness

And love I’ve been shown

I still cannot face another day

Here on my own

(Originally Posted 01.06.2019)

‘A New Hope’

I don’t want to go back, actually

My old normal kinda sucked

Whereas my life now

Doesn’t seem somehow

So irrevocably fucked

Ice

I suppose I should be happy the sun is shining again,

Feel a spring in my step at the lighter evenings,

Be comforted by the warmth on the back of my neck.

But I couldn’t give a shit.

It means nothing.

None of it melts the ice in my heart.

(Originally Posted 21.03.2019)

Self Worth

I’d give you my heart,
But it’s not worth me trying

I’d give you my body,
But it’s not worth your touch

I’d give you my soul,
But it’s not worth my crying

I’d give you my life,
But it’s not worth very much

(Originally Posted 19.04.2019)

The Long Goodbye

I’ve never loved myself

So I didn’t expect you to either

Thank you so much for trying,

However,

But I knew we’d achieve neither

Unknown Rules

The more I try to join in
The more it seems
Love is a game
No one taught me
How to play

(Originally Posted 01.06.2019)

The Noose Tightens

Today has
been like
scratching
a brick wall

I didn’t
see this
one coming
at all

Everything
I’ve done
has made me
feel worse

I cannot
shrug this
nightmarish
curse

It feels
ridiculously
melodramatic
to say

But I
really don’t
think there’s
another way

All that
appeals
to me now
is that rope

As finally
it seems I’ve
abandoned
all hope

(Originally Posted 21.08.2019)

Try Harder Next Time

The monster who lives

Under my bed

Whispers again

Why aren’t you dead

Berating me

For writing instead

When all the time

That rope’s still in the shed

The Hangman

I really
try my
best to
cope and
not just
sit around
and mope
but as
time moves
on I
know there’s
no hope
I can
forget the
past and
avoid the
rope that
silently
whispers my
name

(Originally Posted 02.07.2019)

Finally

I wonder what you’ll all say,

When I finally go away.

I wonder what you’ll all think,

When off into the shadows I slink.

I wonder if you’ll all stop and stare,

When you finally realise I’m no longer there.

(Originally Posted 25.06.2019)

Another Wasted Day

It’s four twenty five in the afternoon and I’m still lying in bed.

Trying, in vain, to sleep away the thoughts inside my head.

Perhaps I should get up and go out for a bracing walk instead.

It has to be better than staying in here and wishing I was dead.

(Originally Posted 22.06.2019)

The Reality

Life goes on,
now I’m alone,
as tears wash
over me
like rain.

Time moves on,
as I come undone,
with fear that
I’ll never
love again.

(Originally Posted 10.07.2019)

Unkept

You said

To me

You’d always

Be true

Yet it’s clear

That forever

Meant fuck all

To you

Two Faced

You will never beat me,

So please don’t even try.

I could choose to hurt you,

To really make you cry.

But I’m the better person,

Of that I have no doubt.

So just carry on with your bullshit,

Because you’ll never drive me out.

(Originally Posted 02.06.2019)

‘First Dates’

She awoke that morning to the sound of the bells. Those fucking incessant church bells that plagued her every Sunday morning. She opened one eye to the world and, as the daylight scorched her alcohol soaked retina, she quickly closed it again. Fucking tequila, she murmured. Never again. Yeah, right.

Then she remembered. Shit. She tentatively slid her hand across the mattress. She felt his presence before she heard his snore. Fucking tequila, she murmured again. Bollocks.

She took a deep breath and forced both of her eyes open to absorb the piercing light this time. The bells had stopped thank fuck. One less thing to deal with.

She sat up, carefully, and embraced the world. She wasn’t ready to wake the man whose name she had forgotten – or in truth had never known – just yet.

She crawled, with great difficulty, from the bed. Every bone feeling like a dead weight, she managed to pull last nights shirt over her head and stumble to the kitchen.

She took a glass from the draining board and filled it with ice cold water from the stainless steel tap. She revelled in the smooth taste cleansing her mouth, her throat and her head. She glugged down four paracetamol and proceeded to the bathroom to wash the lingering taste of the man from her mouth.

She looked at herself in the mirror. I look like I feel, she thought, and I feel like shit. Still, first things first. She needed to get this fucker out. Composing herself and her aching limbs she strode into the bedroom; clapping her hands loudly as she stepped.

‘Rise and shine sleeping beauty’ she croaked. ‘Time to go’. The mound of stale sweat, alcohol and drool lay motionless under the duvet. ‘I said come on motherfucker – move’. She shouted louder this time pairing her cry with a swift kick to what she hoped was his kidney area. The man whimpered as he rolled over on to his front.

‘Just come back to bed, babe’ he muttered sleepily.

‘Babe? Are you fucking shitting me mate? Just get the fuck out of my bed!’ She was shaking him now as he heaved himself upright. Dazed and confused he looked into her eyes, realisation slowly dawning that if he wanted to keep his testicles intact he’d better not argue. He hurriedly dressed as she shooed him out of the bedroom and pushed him out of the flat – the front door knocking him over as he pulled on his boots.

‘Well, thanks for that and everything. But I won’t be calling you again’ she snipped.

‘But, I..’ was all she heard before she slammed the door in his puzzled, but albeit pretty cute, face.

She stalked back to bed, vowing never to drink tequila again.

Yeah, right.

(Originally Posted 06.03.2019)

Sex & Drugs & Dance Music

‘Undo your trousers and get your cock out now’ she cried.

I knew she would be unimpressed with what she saw. It wasn’t the fact I was fucked from the seven hours of non-stop dancing, or that I felt physically ill from the dodgy burger I’d eaten at Stav’s van outside the club. I knew full well that my inability to get a hard on was due to the six wraps of amphetamine that I had hoovered up my nose throughout the night.

‘Come on, she pleaded. I want to feel you inside me. I want you to make me come all night long’. She had always been a pretty straight forward kind of girl. Or at least she had been since I’d known her. I’d met her in the club about four hours earlier. She was coming out of the toilets as I was heading in to fill up my water bottle. She said she liked my blue mascara and matching hair. I said I liked her devil horns and big tits. But those 36D’s were doing nothing for me now.

I felt the crotch of my faux snakeskin trousers. Nothing. Her eyes eagerly followed the direction of my hand. She wouldn’t be pleased. My usually ample sized dick was letting me down. I tried to change the subject.

‘I’ll put some tunes on’ I croaked as I fumbled about on the floor. I found a CD – Carl Cox Non Stop. For fucks sake. Must everything remind me of my dick? I angrily pushed the disk into the stereo.

‘I fancy you’ she purred. How the fuck was I going to pull this one off? Here was a smouldering sex kitten writhing around on my bed, gagging for it, and my bollocks had shrivelled to the size of a grape. I suppose it’s not their fault, I mused. Give me a choice between a shag and six wraps of pure base and I’ll go for the powder every time. It’s only when you have Uma Thurman on your bed that you wish you could say no.

Maybe I could try and satisfy her in another way, I wondered. That way if my sleeping policeman ever decides to wake up then it’ll be fine: I can shag her all night long. If he decides to sleep in, however, then maybe she’ll be content with other parts of my anatomy instead and fall asleep.

‘Well, if you won’t come to me then I’ll just have to come to you’ she teased, playfully. She stood up from the bed and moved over towards me, undoing the strings of her corset as she walked. Her eyes locked on mine. I would hate to be a disappointment to her but, as yet, there was no stirring in my nether regions. Her leather bodice fell to the floor, shortly followed by her crushed velvet hot pants. Fuck me, she was beautiful. She had a body to die for with a sexual appetite to match. Every man’s wet dream. I so wished I’d met her when I wasn’t off my face.

‘Interested?’ she seductively inquired. How ironic I thought. As I studied her ample chest, the old snakeskins felt a little tighter at the zip. Maybe all was not lost. Maybe my sleeping policeman’s alarm clock had finally gone off. I sent down another tentative hand to the area in question. Thank fuck. My bollocks had returned to their normal size and my dick was getting ready to greet Uma with a smile.

‘I’m interested if you are’ I beamed. And she was. My snakeskins and ‘FUCKED’ t-shirt were soon on the floor. They and the devil horns made a cracking looking pair.


‘I’ll be off then. Thanks for a great night!’

It wasn’t actually the sound of her voice that woke me up that afternoon, but the sound of the heels on her knee length boots clicking along the hallway floor. Through the haze of a banging headache and a raging thirst I watched them disappear as the front door slammed shut.

Although I felt like utter shit I smiled proudly to myself. She thought last night was ‘great’. For once, it seemed, I had managed to fight the side effects of the chemicals I had consumed and have a decent shag after a good nights whizzing. I settled back into bed and prepared for the inevitable come down that was already winging its way to me in the post.

My mobile began to vibrate on the bedside table. The noise felt like someone drilling holes into my head. I answered it, just to stop it hurting.

‘Hello?’

‘Fuck me, you are alive then!’ came an excited voice. ‘Man, I thought you’d be out of it considering how well you got on with our friend Billy last night. Fucking good night though, eh? Bouncing club that. But what about that bird with the devil horns and the big tits that you were talking to outside the toilets? Must have hurt when she called you a sexist prick and slapped your face before walking off with her pals…’

It was then I realised. It’s like the geezer from Manchester growls in that song:

‘All your dreams are made, when you’re chained to the mirror and the razor blade…’

(Originally Posted 08.03.2019)

‘It’s still early days…’

I wake up with Harry the cat walking over my face. Fuck, is my first thought. It’s Saturday.

Saturdays have become the most difficult day since you’ve gone. Saturdays mean at least forty hours must pass before I can go to work and have something to distract my mind from this impenetrable sadness. I count the days in my head. Thirteen weeks. You died thirteen weeks ago today.

I push Harry off the bed and turn onto my side. I pull the duvet around my neck and scrunch up my eyes, trying to block out the daylight seeping in from the window. If I can just go back to sleep, even for a little while, at least I won’t have to face being alone with my thoughts. I try hard to think of nice things and to drift off back to sleep.

Of course, it is to no avail. Apart from the fact that my toes are poking out from the bottom of the bed and are in danger of being shred to ribbons by a predatory Harry: I need a piss.

With a heavy sigh I sit up. Carefully, keeping the duvet around my neck to ward off the impending chill, I hunt around the bed for the remote control and turn on the TV. I’m amazed at how reliant I have become on this screen. It’s on more often than off now – the inane chatter of random talk shows preferable to the otherwise morbid silence.

When Harry’s cute (but really fucking annoying) meowing finally becomes too much to bear, I haul myself out of bed. Pulling on yesterdays t-shirt and joggers from the floor I walk through to the kitchen. Harry weaves in and out of my legs causing a near catastrophe more than once. I look in his dish – little bastard still has half a meal left from last night. There was no need for him to wake me up at all.

He’s a poor wee thing though. He’s been finding it hard too, since you died. He doesn’t like being alone much either. I top up his food and water bowl and he tucks in appreciatively. I give him a pat and head to the bathroom.

As I move my hands in and out of the tap water I examine my face in the mirror. Just look at the fucking state of me. At thirty eight I’m not exactly in the prime of my life, but still, really?! This is what I look like now? Jesus.

My hair is greying, my face is blotchy and bloated and my eyes are like piss holes in the snow. Thankfully my clothes hide the worst of the scarred, stretch marked, cellulite ridden body I know fine well I live in. To have to look at that this morning would really push me over the edge.

I go back to the bedroom and jump back into bed. As I get comfortable Harry comes to join me, settling on top of the duvet for cuddles. At least I have him I think. It’s better than no one, and I’ll take all the friends I can get right now. I need them since you died.

I reach for my other friend – a cigarette – and I am momentarily soothed as the nicotine rushes through my blood stream.

I consider getting up, getting dressed and going in to town to buy some shit I neither want or can afford. It’s how I’ve tried to fill the gap, since you died.

I remember it hasn’t worked the last two Saturday’s, so there’s no point trying again today. I set the TV to put itself to sleep in half an hour and settle back down again. I pull the duvet around my neck and close my eyes – Harry still purring away beside me.

The days news is burbling away in the background. Some cold and unfeeling male voice is revealing that, apparently, five people in China have died from a mystery illness. Definitely best not to go out today then. I drift off into a restless sleep.

I wake up with Harry the cat walking over my face. Fuck, is my first thought. It’s still Saturday…

(Originally Posted 03.03.2019)

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