am i hungry or has the pit returned.
that stupid fucking pit.
its an eternal loop, circling in and out of itself.
floating dead centre in my gut.
particles of another girl explode and expand out of it,
overcome by this strange girl from the strange world.
i weep on my mothers lap,
i retch over porcelin, patterned.
seeing my sister for the first time in weeks,
Monday 19th September 2022 9:32 pm
Who will close the last door?
A virus brings you in prison.
But fear is the real disease,
Panic and Hysteria
Cause all the symptoms.
It gives the powerful more power
And the lonely ones
Isolation is not healthy,
Fears just make us sick.
Go out and live,
Don't read the news
And you will stay healthy.
©️ By Magical whispers
Thursday 12th March 2020 11:44 am
Ends Of Days
The fact that I’m quite anti-social
Is a blessing in dark times like these
When you’re treated like a pariah
If you develop a cough or a sneeze
When they’re telling us to wash our hands
And not just after we pee
When I’ve been doing that for years
Because of my OCD
I’m also a bit of a hoarder
It’s always been one of my goals
To ensure I have ...
Monday 9th March 2020 1:05 pm
Yesterday I fell in love with a face.
Only for five minutes or so:
Wholly inappropriate, I know -
an excess of emotion displaced
while I tried my best to make you safe
as I had been taught to do.
I found you lying on the floor,
an empty bottle as a clue:
You did pretend-coma so well,
as you had being chest-stabbed just before.
But as I practised faux first aid -
lifted your young chin...
Friday 1st November 2019 3:07 pm
Are We Home?
Today I Woke-Up,
Scared Seeping Out The Ears.
Can’t I Shut Up?
Hushed Sounds Of Tragic,
Time’s Silent Casket.
Are We Old?
Got My Paper Bag, Today,
To Catch The Static
Running On My Chest Like Fire Ants.
We Could Fuck It Up On Purpose.
Even Never Dying Gets Too Old.
Are We Home?
He’s Making Room
While Creeping Around.
Friday 17th May 2019 4:53 pm
Who can identify the town that is the primary focus of this lament?
The Sky Reflects Our Labours
Her calloused hands and tired eyes,
are grey and wet and green and steely;
her gaze is stoic, and often flinty
at the JobCentre counter, as her future dies.
The grey-blue smoking ramparts march,
graven beyond the terracotta houses;
their Wellsian vision of War arou...
Tuesday 24th October 2017 3:22 am
Its 5:30 in the morning after locking up I'm trying to get back to sleep,then I start to think. I wonder if there's such a thing as conspiracies in real life.I don't mean like huge political conspiracies or celebrity deaths etc , I'm talking about elaborate lies ordinary people tell,normal families And the extreme measures they go to ,in order to cover it up. Ok so we have heard about finding o...
Saturday 12th August 2017 3:42 pm