Bring me flowers
To give life to what’s living
It’s not a promise
It’s just a little thing
One flower
Bring one flower
A rose, a daisy, a leaf
Bring something
Bring anything
Just to show me that you care
Or just come, please
I want you to be there
Or don’t
But just send me a message
Just saying goodnight
I don’t want to lose you
And I’m scared that I might
Tag: love
I forget…
Like a flower…
You remind me of..
The moon shines brighter when…
When I’m with you I…
I forget
Forget what I was doing
Forget what I was working for
Forget why I was even working in the first place
I forget about a lot of things
But when I am without you…
I don’t
It’s a shame I couldn’t see its light on your face
Will we always see
the same sky
at night?
If we’re far away
could it change?
It might
But I’m glad
that we saw
the same moon
tonight
Wasn’t it beautiful!
Half round, so very bright
Wasn’t it lovely
To be sharing the same sight
My plans are already made
How I wish I could just fade
Into bed with you at night
But sleeping next to you is too hard
Hard for me to want to sleep
When you’re right next to me
Because there aren’t enough minutes in a day
To look at you
To listen
To hold
But waking up to you is too promising
Promises of a good day
Or a shit day
But a shit day with you…
is a good one
Because atleast I can
Look at you
Listen
Hold
So I won’t sleep alone instead
I’ll have great and shit days alone
Ill be dreaming through it all
dried up paint
Scraping dried up paint from under my fingernails
With a 2H
Writing shit with too many details
Its getting late
Lying down by my book
Kept company by my pencils
And my phone
But its only decoration right now
I love it when an addiction is just decor
I could be using it but I wouldn’t know what for
To pick you up
To start to scroll
But I don’t
To want to drink
A glass of wine
But I wont
To smoke a cigarette, to think about you...
But I do
I love it when I write
Because nothing really means anything
Apart from one word at a time
And everyone thinks it does
That theres a theme or a deeper meaning
That I thought about before I finished it
I didn’t
There isn’t
Its just me talking in my head
If my brain could talk
Its just the shit it woulda said
I find meaning in my writing
But I don’t write with meaning
I write with a pencil
And dried up paint
Night
A bright dark blue sky
A moonlit road
A bright sunny moon
Maybe I should wear my sunglasses
Maybe I should kiss you
You dont get day night time
Very often
And neither do I
Who dropped a coin
The penny drops
But it sounds like a cent
It tangs more than tingles
Ive not heard this here before
Ive not felt this here before
Im back home again when I wake up
But I never moved in
Im owned and free
But fuck
What has been done to me
Clean enough for what
Its like a sign
You know Im back at work when my hands are only clean enough on sunday
Only for an evening
An evening alone
Whats the point in clean hands on a Sunday evening?
trigger
I sometimes loose control of my body
My hands smack into my head repeatedly
My eyes water with no end
My heart rushes and bangs through my chest
This can be caused when I have strong feelings that my brain can’t process.
I wanted to sleep for hours and I couldn’t
I wanted to feel cared for and I didn’t
I wanted to be respected and I wasn’t
So my body shut down, everything went to the beat of my heart
My hands came up, and my knuckles got bruised, and my scalp got cut, and my head wanted to lose.
I woke up the next day and saw the torn up sheet from all my shaking
I woke up and felt my hands aching
I woke up and my heart hadn’t yet stopped
The worst part is, is that normally I trigger this, with dark thoughts or loss of hope
But this time it was people, who I loved or thought I did
And so my world has crashed, and behind the pretty paintings I now see all the ash
So this is the time for me, and new beginnings, and people who I admire and look up to, not people who held knifes behind each others back.
Im not being used or abused or taken for granted
I’ll do some yoga and reflect, and not give any more chances.
Woman
As a woman
Ive started to notice sexism in my social life. If I’m seen giving orders it’s “micromanaging” “okay mum” “controlling” where as if a man does these things he is listened to, its “teaching” or “helping”.
I allowed myself to be held by men in a way that made me feel uncomfortable but “was just friendly”, talked to and about hyper sexually as an object to be seen and touched.
As a woman I am starting to be scared at how much I can see is based on nothing but my gender, no matter how much I know about an area, there will always be a dumber, more stupid man being listened to by many more.
When I use my sexuality to my advantage, as a way to make money, and to gain confidence. It’s seen as easy, a waste.