To call this season... Summer
We may require the sun
But remember we're in England
Down the road
The water runs
A cup of tea
Inside a blanket
& listening to the downpour
This English summer was here for a day
Teasing you with some warmth
& then the weather switched 3 times
& that was just before you'd had lunch
Yeah, yeah I'm loving the weather
& your sarcasm
Thanks a bunch
How do you know
That I’m real?
How do you know that
I’m not AI generated
On the ‘internet’
But
Even If you have
Met me
Are you even real?
My cheeks are sore
Soaked with tears
I’m living each second
But my minds not here
Blank face and have little care
Feeling suicidal
Motivation stripped bare
I held onto the thought of us
I held onto our friendship
& the fact that we considered each other
Family
You were my best friend
& my brother
We could be ourselves
Around each other
We wouldn’t judge
But once I’d met
The real you
Fucking hell
It all made sense
You’re the worst human being
I’d ever met
& I’m glad our ‘friendship’
Is in the past tense
I’d love to create a portrait
Of myself
But it would be abstract
It would be my mind & soul
Splattered on a page
3d, 4d
You’d hear bizarre sounds
You’d feel the flush
Of my cheeks
& you’d feel a cat
On your lap
Because a basic portrait
Has never been further from
My vibe
When our lips touch,
my heart explodes,
Passion whirls around the room.
The rain on your windows,
Under the duvet,
Body goals.
I'm in love with you,
It's time to watch our life unfold.
Falling for you harder
every time you say my name
No matter the distance our feelings stay the same
Your laugh and your smile
Will always fill me with glee
I don’t think you realise Kieran
How happy you’ve made me
Being a writer is...
Writing on the back of receipts
It’s crumpled drafts
Bus tickets
Half a poem written
But...
In four different inks
I could have sworn
This pen worked yesterday
But the universe is trying to stop me
Connect the dots
Connect the links...
There’s a lot of pressure
to fit into a box
A box that’s too small
A box that you must lose weight to get into
Or a box that you have to fit in perfectly but it’s too big
And will fit a family of four in
A box that you have to get through security to enter
No tattoos
No piercings
Blonde hair
Big boobs
A job that’s considered acceptable
Your hobbies should consist of
Yoga or Zumba
And slimming world
You should complain about your husbands and how tired you are and how your kids are just being trouble recently…
You constantly lose your temper and your husband escapes at any opportunity possible because a simple shopping trip or even watching TV just consists of stress…
Why would I want to live that way?
Why should I fit into your box?