Sweet Nothings

Do
you
say
those
things

To
someone
else

Now
you
don’t
say
them
to me?

Does
it
make
me
pathetic

My
thoughts
so
frenetic

That
these
things
still
bother
me?

Ruminating

Will
there be
someone
else
for me

Or
will
I forever
remain
bereft?

For
all I’ve
felt is
numb
you see

Ever
since
the day
you
left

A Genuine Request

I post here twice a day

Not knowing who will read

Is anyone even interested?

Do my words fulfill a need?

Is there humour in my blog?

Or do you just find it sad?

Do I come across as normal?

Or do you think I’m mad?

I’m interested in what you think

I’d really love to know

So without fear of recrimination

Please comment your thoughts below

© Me

In
order
to keep
what is
rightfully
mine

There’s
no other
choice
but to
retire
online

Catharsis

I
really
only
write

What
everyone
else is
thinking

I just
do what
comes
naturally

And
without
even
flinching

Futile

Sometimes
I depress
myself

As these
thoughts
fill the
page

Why
am I
here

Wasting
everyone’s
time

Hoping
someone
will
engage

You’re Too Kind

Thirty
six
thousand
words

And
each
one of
them
shite

But now
I’ve
passed
one
thousand
followers

I
must
be doing
something
right

Precision

Just be
careful
not to
slip

Not one
ounce of
blood to
drip

For you
don’t want
them to
see

Just how
messed
up you
can be

Slap And Tickle

I
have
tried to
move on

My
feelings
for you
to shelve

But
when
push
comes to
shove

I just
can’t
help
myself

An Apathetic Author

It’s
hard to
write
it all
down

What
I’ve
been
feeling
inside

But now
is the
time to
start
again

For the
truth
I’ll no
longer
hide

Fear

I’m
going
back
to bed

It’s
not
worth
staying
awake

From
these
thoughts
in my
head

I need a
fucking
break

Old Faces

I
loved
talking
to you
so much
tonight

It
bought
a tear
to my
eye

It seems
there’s
no one
else I
want to
sit with

And
watch
the
world
go by

On Future Dates

I
know
that
I
agreed
to
this

But
now
I
am
quite
scared

What
if
I’m
late
to
meet
you

Or
my
ability
to
talk
is
impaired?

What
about
if
you
realise

When
you
look
at
me up
close

That
I
really
am
quite
old
and
tired

And
the
thought
of
kissing
me
is gross?

The Train Home

Why
can’t
it be
like that
all the
time

Talking,
laughing
and
drinking
wine

It
always
feels
like
such a
crime

When I
have to
return
to this
life of
mine

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑