I fastened my soul to you a long time ago
And I can’t quite seem to undo the latch
Though you toss and kick
I still sit tight
Waiting for the time to be right.
Your rolling nerves just under my skin
Tell me there’s nothing left within
Not for me not for what we were
Of that you’re really making sure.
So jump and shake. Bruise and buck
One of these days I’ll stop giving a f#%*$
She’s a slut you know
She makes them cum she lets them go.
She wears her tank tops way too tight
She wears short skirts.
It’s just not right.
She leads them on
They can’t help but fall
Into her wicked snare
You can’t blame them.
She’s a manipulative whore
A line of suitors out the door.
Her soft skin, drives them insane
A pity she doesn’t have a brain.
She should cover up. Hide her skin
Then maybe our men wouldn’t sin.
Let’s blame her. Let’s call her a easy
Because it could never be that our men are sleazy.
She’s so beautiful and so pretty
It just makes us feel extra shitty
We’d rather judge her wanton ways
How else would we spend our boring days?
Your looks will fade my love
And all the endless preening will come to naught
I was once like you
In other flames, my comfort sought
I let my fire dwindle while I stoked theirs.
And danced like a dervish and whirled through their stares.
Slow it was, the creeping decay
Which turned copper to rust
Grass to hay.
Until one day they looked no more.
And my inner workings were merely gore.
Left uncared for … my brain did rot
And thus it is….my unhappy lot.
So dance my pretty
I’m not saying no
But keep your inner fire burning
Because your looks will go.
My sad eye is pressed up against the wall
I heard the nightingale’s silent call
Out there everything shimmers
You in the middle of a lake that glimmers
Flora and fauna and mossy roads
Faeries and pixies and croaking toads.
Water spouting out your finger
A thousand reasons to let me linger
Staring out at your bright world
Ignoring the fact that I’m being absurd.
Is it better to have a crack
Or does it just highlight what I lack?
You’re missing a ‘W’ in everything you do
Ork, ant, ill
I can never be your ‘ife’
With just a tinkle in your life.
I just wanted to take his little hand and run.
Jump on a bus and go on an adventure.
He didn’t want to go to school and little sobs racked his big soul.
His quivering lips , his wet eyes.
I wasn’t ready for such goodbyes.
All I could think was that:
His whole life would be filled with timetables.
He wouldn’t be able to run away.
So why not today son?Why the hell not.
Let’s run while we still can.
While it’s still fun
Because someday you won’t have your mum.
Someday you’ll be in a suit and tie
With no one at the gate to wave goodbye
And when I die you can reveal my name
And they’ll say: “I didn’t realise she was so sad.”
But aren’t we all?
(Some more than most)