I’ll Let You Keep That False Sense Of Superiority

It’s coming up to 5 minutes past 3
And before us all the best holligan repelling bars
Are coming under lock down in front of our very eyes
My platoon has no choice but patrol the slums
The kind of bar filled with seedy salary man
The ones who turn a blind eye to personal boundaries
The kind of gross specimen I find side by side with my rendezvous
With a sigh I walk on over to be introduced

You then turn in my general direction
Tilt your head like you would a toddler
Carrying the burden of a hastily cast, plaster cast
And put on the pout on your lips
At the news of my autistic blood
You tell me how your so sorry
How that’s such a shame for me to be this way
How I’ve roll the dice and got snake eyes

I find that funny you would talk to me that way
Like a old fisherman’s pup, missing a hind leg
Because your not to know this, but me and your ex lady
The one you’ve been awkwardly gyrating on the dancefloor
Receiving the same reactions as an electric bill in the mail
Yeah we’ve been at it for the last month
You make comments about I can’t do things like the normies
Oh she doesn’t seem to think so not at all
Reading back the reviews it’s clear I’ve surpassed you
No I might not be the talkative lad at bars
Sometimes the washing up can be confusing
But is that really a price to pay for what I gain?
You won’t admit it but you’d kill to be me right now

*Written For National Poetry Month – 28/30*

Poor Daisy

I wish I could say it straight to you
Why I feel like I have to get behind the curtains
And then disappear in a splash of doves in front of your eyes
Why I bring attention to the flaws in my psyche
Only to keep the explanations under a timed unlock
Why I ripped out my hair, over the buzzwords in your greetings
Before acting like nothing had happened to following day
And I dismiss all the above with “You haven’t caught me on a good day”

But it matters not how much of a heart a gold Daisy has
A human can only tolerate so many questions thrown their way
Especially if someone’s ripped all the answers out from the back
Daisy stops making the effort to come and see me
Daisy stops telling me that she thinks the world of me
Daisy stops wanting me to hold her hand in the street
Daisy starts to detonate the dynamite whenever she can
Make the very earth around us shatter and sink into the ground
Puts me at the very forefront of domestic carnage itself
Daisy smashed my nose, Daisy smashed my copy Pokemon
Daisy slashed the ropes that kept this bridge hanging, Daisy slashed herself
All in thin hope she could goat me into something resembling a reaction
But as much as I rummaged in my pockets for a spare one, I couldn’t provide
All I could fine was a spare 3.50 in coppers and nuggets
Perfect to walk out the door and leave her self-destructing
In the pursuit for one more gin and tonic and maybe a pint of pale ale
And maybe if I keep pumping it into my body and rummage around my head
I could find something resembling an emotion, But I couldn’t find one

*Written For National Poetry Month – 26/30*