SHOULD LOVE STING? [W.I.P]

God it pisses me off when you love me
But being mad ain’t no fun either
I guess I just want to reside in the battlefield
Where romance stays Hollywood, no matter the cost
For every wound we tend to
We make sure another replaces it
Sure beats making a bed in the ashes
Bored as can be

My greatest memories were never content days
Is anyone’s best memories the content days?
I remember the times you said you loved me
Just moments after telling me to die
The times you’d poke the land mines
Just to see if it was still live
Repugnant to the on looker
Polarising to the sane
But nothing made me thank god for this life
Like seeing the fire come to life in your eyes

You could never second guess our devotion
When the price of admission was so high
As you make the journey to square up to me
Only as you arrive, to end up kissing me
Cos lord knows I love it when your pissed at me
Cos being mad with you is a hell of a lot of fun

Lnc0

It’s strange to think one of the biggest criticizers of people with mental health problems are other people with mental health problems

Y’know the one’s the “I’m not like most _______” types, gagging for that NT diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick “PLEASE LET ME BE ONE OF YOU”

It’s like…. we’re all in the snake pit guys :L and you won’t get out smacking away your bother’s and sister’s hands to feel big

I wonder after I’m done doing a proper poetry book (YES I AM STILL DOING IT, SHUT UP, FORMATTING IS HARD) maybe I should try and do one with like just the poems about mental illness stuff for people that suffer with that specific thing, will it be a nice comfort thing and help people? I dunno, leave yer ideas in the asssssskkkkssss

Don’t Fret

Could he, would he, should he, might he
The diagrams never seem to match reality
A submerged clue to the mystery of adultery
Or just the aimless flight of youth?
No matter how much you dig through the wardrobes

So don’t fret darling, don’t fret
Cos it’s not like you’ll accept the truth
If it comes to you in any other way
So don’t fret darling, don’t you fret
Just close those weary eyes, and hope
You might open up your third eye one day

What if you found the key in his trainers
And unleashed the swarm from Pandora’s Box?
Would it detract from the overall objective
The security of the cuddles and kisses come moonlight
What value could the truth hold for you
When ignorance is your only path to bliss

So don’t fret darling, don’t fret
Cos it’s not like you’ll accept the truth
If it comes to you in any other way
So don’t fret darling, don’t you fret
Just close those weary eyes, and hope
You might open up your third eye one day

Lnc0

Y’know I moaned about feeling pressure to do romance poetry

But now I’ve written my first genuine one in like half a year, it does feel good to be back I can’t deny it :L

Vow’s Over

Awkward
Not for me, I’m doing great
But clearly I’ve been sent like Adam’s serpent
A beacon of a symbolic nature
To test your attachment to the choices made thus far
Cos you’d love nothing more then pay close attention
To his cynical colouring of Colchester’s par course
But somebody keeps stealing your gaze
And not for the first time either; if I may be so bold
It’s torture for both parties involved

Suddenly the pastels of regret invade the pallet
Thinking about what butterfly effects could put me in his seat
I didn’t follow you to V-Bar that night
Thought I’d spare you from dealing with a tyke like me
But maybe that’s the excuse of a patchwork heart
If I applied the earplugs with abandon
And followed the direction of the beat
I’d of beaten you to the doorman, for sure

Whatever the reason for this pawn to D3 move
I feel it was a pivotal one to throw the entire game
Your still the greatest mystery in my life
And the ending could betray the previews
But the way, even on your way to exit this domain
Your surroundings couldn’t help but agitate your curiosity
You double take to make sure your recollection was accurate
As our eyes once again align in perfect axis
And the smiles we exchanged in tenths of a second
Was enough to make me believe in romance again
I promise if we ever occupy the same space once again
We’ll trade a few words too

Lnc0

Forever Pressured To Write Love Notes

I hate this understated pressure I have as a poet to produce the most fluffy and positive content around, people think poetry is the stereotype of delving into all sorts of depressing subjects but it ain’t. It’s like anything else people want that sugar coated fake reality. I can feel the sighs from my followers as I post another poem that isn’t about fucking a girl, people really do want bubble gum love notes and rain day heartbreak stories or happy word rides

AND THAT’S FINE. Tbh I wouldn’t mind giving what they want either. But I don’t feel happy, I’m hardly heartbroken and shit no one’s looked at me romanticly for half a bloody year as I am cancer given human form, I can’t write shit about things that just aren’t happening to me in my life, I can only write about self-discovering cos that’s all I have in my life right now, it’s so bizarre poetry has no problem glorifying the process of feeling sad, when you can slap it on an easy beat rap in front of a London audience of everyone preforming the same poem. But when you wanna get serious about it and talk about the real shit, real mental health and disorders who gives a doddle

Makes me wanna delete this blog and pack this shit in sometimes, no one cares unless your words beam happiness, but i’m alone, stuck in a shitty flat and no one loves me, so how in gods name do people honestly expect me to write about the bubbly shit while my life’s like this? It isn’t fair! Their’s so much beauty in sadness itself and using art and expression to bring people together for a comman understanding, why can’t I be good at doing that? Sucks