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Forgive them, they know not what they do
You’re doing it again Mum But now I know your game, The strategies you use, Tired, old, lame. I still feel disturbed and anxious, But instead of feeding you, Ill curl up with my black puss, Whilst I think of something better to do. It’s been a week of loss, Of those that I hold…
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Wading Through Treacle
I’m not even writing Frozen, freezing, fighting All energy engaged on trying to be alive Cut off from the world just trying to survive. Staying alive Functioning Surviving Keeping cat and daughter thriving. My heart hurts but you can’t see it If you hold my hand You’ll feel it Look deeply in my eyes You…
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My Best Friend
My best friend, a gem for 28 year, Rare, admired, valued, In my heart held so dear, Shared laughter, past debauchery and sometimes a tear, Shared secrets, shared growth and sometimes shared fear, Always we listen, always we hear, Even when apart, our love it is near. She sees my worth, recognises my strength, For…
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Loving a Narcissist
Into in my life you flounced Self sales pitch left me astounded All my senses surrounded Feet swept off the ground Unaware my mind and body were about to be impounded. You intended to deflower My mind and steal my body like a prowler So insidious I’d not notice, certainly not flounder Even though at…
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My Joy, My Sad
“Roses are red, violets are blue, It don’t always be like that, but sometimes it do”. It’s been relentless for so long I’d say this is as bad as it gets. Most days an exercise in survival. It started with depression at age 15 and a Bipolar Diagnosis at 21, Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder…
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Mummy Poem 2 Reflections on parenting
You were loving and kind with a strange style of mothering To be honest, for me, it was really quite smothering You wanted me happy, right from the start But your chances of achieving it were really quite stark. The life skills you gave me, inadequate and few, No body hair was permitted, it would…
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I don’t like this (trigger CSA) Innocence Lost Poem 1
Bare bottom, cheap seats, scratchy fur, orange, brown Burning, sticky, poking, dry, over-rubbed Cold uncomfortable defeat with a relief it’s over Who were the other faceless people? Hurriedly exiting the disused caravan, The Conductor a teenage boy Who thought he was a man. It feels like a routine Whilst I hold onto hope it was…