Safety Net’s A Bitch [W.I.P]

You couldn’t find the time to squeeze us in
Not when it’s 2 hours left until the derby
But you’ll be fine, no need to sigh
Not when old Brain’s waiting by your bed side
So a pat on the head, a kiss on the cheek
And I watch you trot out of the door
I’ll just sit here and document 8 rows
Some good, most allright
Finishing off the last of our spiked lemonade
It keeps the utensils in the drawers for another night

You can’t find the heart to miss the showing tonight
Not when it’s a Netflix season premiere
So it’s due again the next fortnight I spose?
So a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek
And another round of spiked coke cola
I’ll sit here and document another 8 rows
Each one being worse and worse then the last
Contemplating where my life even went

3/31

It’s Me [W.I.P]

But it’s just a patriot you paint
I can see the tear stains around the signature
Yes you can emulate success
With a dime a dozen vocation you can call progression
Despite another step not being taken for so long
From this view it’s funny, the way you’d berate the before
I saw the tracks of a tasmanian devil
Smashing through anything that got in her way
But you said you’ll be different now
Things have to change, no more selfishness, no more anger
No scorn, No spite, No venom
No happiness, No satisfaction, No fulfilment
It’s amazing to think you can see it that negatively
But it’s no mystery how you got here
You saw me on my way to accession
Whistling a destructive swan song on the way
You can only see the scars despite the climb
So you see, I know it’s all down to me

2/31

Gum (W.I.P)

You anticipate it for ours on end
But before you know, it’s devoid of all flavour
Honey I’m your chewing gum
You report back to the colon
The way you would with a Tesco bacon roll
Honey I’m just your top up lunch

Smashing your feet on the front seat
Wearing down the seat belt
Your just a kid on her way to Space Mountain
But when your toosh is of the seat
The Blitz starts to drain away
Sorry Lil Sal, you’ve booked yourself a Haven Holidays

That’s the same look I think you’d have
As hour 4 passes us by
You’ve got the gates to the appsphere on deadlock
In case a microbe of joy might slip you by
“I’d be easier if” “It’d be more convenient”
The cage that binds us all
Nights of passion, Nights of perspiration
Met with a flat tone

Spent too long on your tongue
Gotta spit it out
Honey I’m your Juiceless Steak
Not a morsel of flavour
Taken for the image
Honey I’m your chewing gum

– Lnc0

VI – The Lovers

It would’ve been so easy y’know?
The oak was in clear sight at the cross roads, my number 12
By this point I could’ve had ‘em pecking seeds out of my palms
My sense of fulfilment appropriately enough: full and my purpose clear
Kick my heels up at the mounts resort and await 13 to take it away
But to think what I’d lose in the process…

I’d miss all the time you’ve called me a two-bit cunt
As the red shell connects with peaches rear wheels

I’d miss all the intense colliding of bunions
As traumatic as the plates beneath California
As we feast on peanut butter sandwiches and milkshake in the park

I’d miss the times your nashers have sunk into my arm
As I trace the lights shine around your Jugulum
During the closer of a drunken summer festival

I’d miss the surge of the heat as we project;
An impressive form of shadow play on the tent walls
For any music lovers passing by to see
Accompanied by the sounds of J.T echoing from the main stage

I’d miss the ways that your eyes dilate as I outline;
My predictions for the ends of this Journey
Eye that believe I can and wants to bare witness

I’d miss wiping away your tears from my shirt
As we collectively take the strike to our emotions
By a scenario writers attempt on our brazen personae

There isn’t a prize, a title, salary, career
An inflated sense of fulfilment, ego or self esteem
That could be worth your absence
Anything worth doing is worth doing
With you illuminating the view, my number 6

– Lnc0

Dedicated to Esme

First Impressions

The nostalgia gets knocked out of me,
when you walk into the room.
Has it really been two years since
I wanted you too much for too long?
The memories of you wrapping me
around your finger and then cutting it off
come back to me. You never replaced
the affection I gave away so freely
and it sucked me dry at the age of 15.
I try to hide the bitterness behind my eyes,
after all I’m sure being away at university
has honed your repartee and wit.
My only problem is, I see now,
you’re just really not that fit.

It took me a minute to place you.
You were always clouded in a haze
of puppy love and high expectations.
The hedonism of higher education
has dulled my sense of the past;
everything in this town feels different
somehow. Time has softened the edges
of our interactions and space puts you
in a whole new light. You’ve filled out,
filled in the requirements and I can fill
your time with mine. Maybe I should give
you my phone number because,
oh god, you’ve gotten so fit.

Your jaw has dulled over time,
rugged rocks worn down.

Your cheeks are flushed,
highlighting those high bones.

Your nose has bumps and blemishes,
that I never noticed before.

Your hair makes my hand want
to dive in and curl you round my little finger.

Did your university days fill you out?
Or was I imagining an Adonis in your shoes?

Did you have that femme fatale physique
before, or is it a new addition?

You used to be my ideal model, the epitome of
teenage adoration, but the cracks are starting to show.

You used to be unrequited in my mind, I was your
half-boyfriend and you weren’t half-bad. But now?

I shift my gaze away from you,
I look eagerly at this woman in front of me
tear the paper in my hands,
try and gather dutch courage,
not wanting the awkward conversation.
desperately wanting to ask you out.
There was a time when I would beg for a scrap of your affection,
I made you work so hard for this moment,
my rose tinted contact lenses stuck in my eyes.
I owe you so much and plus there’s a bonus for me,
But now, you’re just really not that fit.
because, oh god, you’ve gotten so fit.

As performed by Domestic.

– Francesniff

Only The Obsolete Clutch

The news cut through the deepest part of me
Nights and nights spend hand in hand amidst the clean slate
Putting together our little plans and steps to glory
Reduced to plastic knifes struck in the dragons knees, in one sentence
Oh baby I couldn’t imagine spending my time without you
Buying bread knowing I’m not making you toast just seems pointless
While you rise to the next league in human evolution in another land
Looking at me in my second hand leather jacket fiddling with the pennies
Night after night you’ll forget our curbside midsummer debates
Putting the world to rights, and etching my heart in blood on the concrete
By comparison my sonnets will be reduced to a Daily Star article
My kisses will feel sliver, their greetings will feel like gold
I guess I’ll lay the final right now, may our love not end in a bang
But a whimper of the echo’s of unfulfilled promises and sweet nothings

If you feel you cannot merit your worth to me
In the midst of piles of golden spoils
Smearing my crown with the blood under my fingernails
As I stroke it from atop a platinum ladder
The that one’s all on you my dear
Kisses are timeless and sonnets scar the hippocampus
If your insecurity places a brace on your tongue
And your pride forces sorrow when you should feel joy
Then let me shed your remnants from my skin
As I take off to claims elements unknown as my own

To be preformed by Domestic

– Lnc0

If Kisses Mattered

My friend, we may of been allies for passing upon passing of the sun
But you shouldn’t dare shoot me a look like that in front of the cheese scones
While I unveil another tale of a romantic exploit crashing into the bushes
The way you tell me to stop pushing for 200mph on the first lap
It takes me back to an era long lost where kisses weren’t just a method
To escalate to sensual liberation but actually meant a damn all on their own

So I decide to try and spread it like the last of the butter
That’s trying to cater to a breakfast meant for 4
It may last for longer but it don’t taste nearly as sweet anymore
And that’s not even accounting the distortion in the mirrors image
The plates of my skin start to crack from my fingers like bark
Little quirks in my speech became foghorns, coughs became gunshots
When you started at me from the edge of your bed, and turned away
A ravine of sludge leaking from openings must’ve been all you could see
It’s only way my mind could make sense of things
As each passing day went us by, that we went untouched

And now I’m left here like a chorus with no subtext
I just want you to open my pores and give me context
I could be risking another wreckage for sure
But to risk censoring myself is a fate far worse
I want to lock our psyches by the pinky fingers
So while our keisters share a plot of cobble stone
Outside of a treasure map destination
I bleat a plea in a soft frequency into your ears

“Oh lady it’s just lately I’ve been feelin’ real ugly
So hook me by the folds of my skin and embrace me”

Overwrite

What a terrifying age we must live in
If your confessions of violations
Doesn’t cause the brow to lift anymore
But instead causes a pre-planned sonnet
Pulled from a recollection of a past romance
I guess it’s just that common these days

You park yourself on the side of my bed
While you indulge in a silent war inside your head
No matter how much you try to reason
Your mind can’t stop reenacting those memories
The choker on your throat, And the claws on your thighs
And your need to recollect still shows
You react to collision with other skin cells
Like dynamite would react to a live wire
But it’s no use, you can’t control your body
Your heart screams out like a megaphone
Calling out for any emulation of affection
So you can go back to a simpler time
Where the act of simple carnal desires
Didn’t open the flood gates to a wave of guilt
To wipe the white board clean
To overwrite the association that you carry

You drag me over you like a bedsheet
Your eyes pleading me to set you free
I lay a trail of breadcrumbs from your neck
With my kisses all down the side of your frame
I feel you start to shiver as I approach your navel
You look down me from behind a lens of apprehension
I abandon my quest and approach you from surface level
I cradled your cranium in the palms of my hands
Planted another kiss on the fringe of your head
And remind you I’ve become subservient to your passion
I’ve renounced my will I’m all yours to command
As you take me back in your arms

It drives me to the point of despair
That the world could treat you like this, so early
I know it sounds like a mammoth of a task right now
But there’s no need for you to fear people
For every dragon that parades the plains
Lays a saint ready to avert your gaze

I want to cradle you tight up to my chest
To deflect all the tragedies of the planet
All your dread, contempt and bile
I’ll take it all in a stride like it was just a favour
I want to explore every single cell that gives you life
And make a mark of my devotion
On every single one
Even if after the events of tonight
You choose to cast me aside
To spring board for the gold medal
The one your golden heart really deserves
I’ll still spend every kilojoule in my blood
To wipe the slate clean
To replace feelings of terror, with hunger
To anticipate his touch on your back
To bring life to your cheeks
To make you feel like those villains
Where just a stone in your shoe

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*

Can A Life Be Well Lived?

Deep within the recesses of tonight’s summer dream I say
“Don’t looks some glum honey it’s better this way”
As you clutch your cyan tinted suitcase
While boarding the 7:12 to London Liverpool Street
My absence in your life in but a small price to pay
To ensure you can touch the stars you lust for at night

Yet in reality: I see girls discarding away dreams and ideas
Like a pile of first drafts overflowing from a bin
All because of that funny look their boy gives them
When they dare try to make a move in his presence
That may kick him of the top dollar spot on the throne
To die so submissively it breaks my heart

And yet even in a world where I can have anything
I’ll still let you go to makes sure you can have everything

And yet when I awake at the rise of tomorrows sun
I’ll be having breakfast alone again

I don’t think a life can be well lived
At least unless lived on your own

*Written For National Poetry Month – 10/30*