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

Attached [2015 Edit]

Teetering on your chair, toting a mugshot
That only your hitman could reveal in
On the night where the skies opened and the piss flowed
The shine clawing it’s way through the clouds, the night
To place a spotlight on your fretting character
Guiding me through the stairs and corridors

I could see your silhouette drenched in the nerves
Like a magnum melting on the seashore
Each bullet comes down with a thunderous crash
As your trying and kickstart that beat up Herse
A drink knocked out of your hands, a stride to the yard
A stain on the dashboard, a repugnant disgrace

I could sense that frustration from a mile away
There’s no climbing out of a wreckage like that
Misty eyed, stranded and shit out of luck
Hey, if you need a ride why not drive around in mine?
You were promised a cruise tonight and I’ll happily provide
I’ll take you round those curves she never could

How am I?
Nevermind
It’s never been on my mind
Pay no mind about mine

So I towed you back onto the freeway
50 miles down the boarder, there’s no going back now
I’ve dreamed of this feeling travelling up my skin
Ever since I walked through that door tonight

If only you could’ve felt my lips burn
Whenever yours came into my mind
It reduces years of cognitive thinking
Into a slave of mindless impulses

But even with this beating livewire
I know theres not much a girl like me do
But I know there’s one thing I can do
Something only a woman could do

So sit back
Enjoy the ride
Turn off your mind, I’ll be kind
I’m fine, as long as your mine

– Lnc0

A rewrite of this oldie

Objectify Me

You put on a cabaret to convince yourself
and your allies that you don’t come for the hunger
And that your heart was always true
you didn’t want to let the boat float away into the ocean
It’s just life tends to get in the way of your 7 day clear schedule
Their was nothing you could do!
Now your belly is full you send me on my way
And put your fingers in your ears and scream

I was never a human to you was I?
The idea of personality and emotion never once came to you
What state I’m left in is of no fucking concern
You strip me in your mind of all human qualities
I’m not a man, I’m not a human I’m just a thing
A thing for you to use and throw away in the trash
I have no name, no face, no life,
I’m just a fucking dick tonight and everything else is useless
My heart carries no love, I’m just your dick,
My mind carries no idea, I’m just your dick
Just your big fucking dick, just your dick,
just your dick, your fucking dick, just a dick

Affection is just a tired concept made by weak individuals
To lead stray lambs to sensual liberation
A dick has no need for affection right?
Companionship is for the weak minded
Who can’t survive without a human crutch isn’t that right?
A dick has no need for a companion
Love is for delusion you trip over the lives of other people
Because they can’t sustain their own
A dick has no need for love right?
As long as you get yours who fucking cares right?
I’m nothing, I’m no one, I’m just your thing

JUSTADICKAFUCKINGDICKJUSTABIGDICKIMNOTHINGBUTADICKJUSTADICKNOHOPENOFUTUREJUSTYOURFUCKINGDICKNOFEELINGSNOLIFEJUSTYOURFUCKINGDICKBIGDICKFUCKINGDICKDICKDICKCDIKDKCICIKICJJIOEHC423G4Y34553YH34YG4UJ80G9JB MN

A Sample Of Gritt

Oh mercy me what have I done?
I didn’t mean to turn this resort into a smouldering carter
I just wanted to have a little bit of fun
With another ‘God-Knows-Who’

Good little boys raised to be Angelic young men
Are always on the look out for taint among the diamonds
Your breath stinks of fags
And your parka reeks of weed
Take them blood stained hands
And cover these white skinnies with your pawprints
I need proof that for a night I had your validation
And I’ll carve my signature into your insides

The second lap of the Rollercoster comes to a close
And they shove me out into the following week
With lipstick still on collar
And a mark on my collarbone
It’s been 3 hours since then
And I still smell your perspiration on my top lip
I lay slumped in the back of my desk chair
You’ve saved me from all thought and emotion
I can’t think like this, and I can’t write like this
This must be how the addicts feel

It doesn’t matter how bad this way of living is for me
The scars and deformities it must leave on my mind
Just for a moment, just for an hour everything in the world
Just feels nice, if just for that moment

*Written For National Poetry Month – 23/30*

It Ain’t Easy Being Sleezey

Oh now don’t be like that my love
You don’t have to let me down with a face like that
I know that you’ve heard my echoes
Bounce off the walls of your social circle
And like a Kitten curious about it’s new home
You wandered what could’ve made your friends
Make such haunting noises into the night
You just wanted to get your hands dirty
You just wanted to feel the same things pass through your body
In the middle of a blank diary limbo
I think anyone would’ve done the same

Come now don’t be like that my dear
You don’t have to leave with your stomach lurched like that
It’s a challenge to get any rush out of life these days
Faced with a plethora of roads
And no single idea what direction to take
Just a couple of nights to feel like a god
Like you have complete control of your life for once
Trust me I understand the appeal
And while I might be on a hunt for a queen
Who’s to say I couldn’t caress an ego or to on the way?

*Written For National Poetry Month – 20/30*

Our Activity

The clock strikes around 40 minutes past 4
And so comes to end another shift as the canvas
For comrades to project their insecurities onto
Being born with a flawed blueprint, it’s the perfect excuse
Oh lucky me I’m to be greeted with an offering of h2o
Delivered from the heavens above personally

I know it sounds surreal, but their was something sweet
About being greeted with the biggest smile
Clutching your brand new set for handcuffs
It brings me right back from the soaked walk home
Shall we play cops and robbers for tonight?
Get the toppings and play DIY chef in the kitchen?
Put on the body suits and go a round of play fighting?
Or take a trip to the green in just your skirt?

I was never good to expressing myself with words
I can’t think of sentence that begins to describe
How good it feels to have a life in my life
Who can forgo all sense of verbal communication
No misunderstandings, No excess of words
Any reassurance for your daily allowance
You got in excess from our bodyflow
The only time I’m understood

And now I’m stationary in my room
Gathering moss on my flesh
Even if their words were never true
And they were planning a getaway
For the next day
Just a night to partake in our little activity

*Written For National Poetry Month – 7/30*

A Pack Of Mayfair By Any Other Name

Never you dare judge a book
By it’s tatty #yolo hoodie
And two sizes too small discount jeggings
These are the teachings of mine mother
Oh Kerrinequia-Jane-Willow Faith
They always misjudge your radiance
When they hear though the grapevine
You took that bottle of cola from the cantine
And took yourself to heaven in the bushes behind smokers
And they think they somehow know you
But I know behind the scales under your eyes
The gob splattered on the streets like breadcrumbs
And screeching Charlie XCX as you walk home
Lies a heart of gold, waiting to come out
I see it when you kiss your pet staffy
When you cry after dropping your new iPhone
When you tear the hair off a bystander
For daring to eye up your mans new Reebok’s
Oh what must I do to get you sat on my lap?
On the curb outside of the corner shop
And stealing my nuggets to get some fags
Smokin’ them all before mummy gets back
Cos I hear your fella’s in the dog house
For dealing in front of Go Banana’s again
Thank the skies above, now’s my chance!
To swoop in like a seagull to a discarded bag of chips
I’ll run my fingers though your faded ruby locks
Pushing all the dandruff to the centre of your scalp
Come on babe lets put these fingers to good use
I heard they left the disabled toilets unlocked again

*For National Poetry Month – 5/30*

Counting Freckles (Actually Good Version)

I can’t articulate the anger I’m feeling right now at the Gaia
When the rays sneak past your curtains and intrude the picturesque scene
I couldn’t even conceive the idea of turning a band new page
Pushing the previous day to the side to start one without you
Take refuge with me within the darkness of the sheets
Under the covers where time is forced to cease
And the cancer rays have no chance of pierce through our reality
To me it’s still Sunday, hours pass like seconds and sonnets pass like comments

There’s no chance at coherent through or complex social patterns
My body is turned to stone and my mind moulded into cookie dough
All I can I do pay silent tribute to your adorable little grin
Your early morning mop, the auditory bliss of a morning yawn
It’s a self inflicted disability, but I couldn’t even begin to complain
So here we are at the advent of the afternoon, and I’m just counting freckles

And now we’re in a very special place, where we reject the visionary senses
But I can tell your resting your head on my chest, when I feel your respiratory rhythm
It feels like a waste to stay dormant when I’m teased by your perfect silhouette
The eyes may fail, but every follicle that comes into contact with mine
It paints a very clear picture of the masterpiece that lay before me
So I trace a Piccaso with my nails on the cavans that was gifted for me
Each corner I turn sends the signal for the hairs to reach for the skies
The goosebumps start to rise and your back begins to arch
You grapplehook my attention with that debilitating gaze
You don’t move a muscle and you wouldn’t dare say a word
But the ripples in the atmosphere that come from the flicker of your brow
I’ve bathed in the darkness long enough to know exactly what it is your asking for
So I start to change the course, and begin trace a figure eight
At the intersection where the sun never shines, yet still flourishes

My body is turned to stone and my mind moulded into cookie dough
All I can do is silently worship your illuminating kisses
So here we are, coming up to the tail end of the afternoon
And all I want to do is keep counting eyelashes

Counting Freckles (Horrible Late Night First Draft)

I can’t articulate the anger I’m feeling right now at the Gaia
When the rays sneak past your curtains and intrude the picturesque scene
The cancer rays tear through the security of the sheets
We take refuge under the covers, and kick the day off with a simple “Hello”

There’s no chance at coherent through or complex social patterns
My body is turned to stone and my mind moulded into cookie dough
All I can I do pay silent tribute to your cute little grin
Your early morning mop, the auditory bliss of a morning yawn
It’s a self inflicted disability, but I couldn’t even begin to complain
So here we are at the advent of the afternoon, and I’m just counting freckles

While I take hostile in your arms, you find a new home in the centre of my chest
In the presence of such flawless design, I’m compelled to serve and obey
So I trace a Piccaso with my nails on the canvas that lay before me
Each corner I turn sends the signal for the hairs to reach for the skies
The goosebumps start to rise and your back begins to arch
You grapple my hook my gaze with them big brown eyes
As you pose a request by the way you apply force to my wrists
I trace a figure eight in places the sun will never shine

*This is awful, but I’m keeping it as a reminder to NOT post first drafts ever, even when super tired and high on life, this forever will be a blight on my record looool*

The Sonic Cycle IRL (W.I.P)

Now don’t get me wrong, your optimism in your admiration for me is darling
The way your eyes rival the strobe lights when your clutch my hand
Making sure we never lose contact under the mercy of the dance floor
But it’s arrogant for you to assume your the first
And it’s naive of me to assume you’ll make sure your the last
When the sugar leaves your blood and the month comes to a close
And you come to meet me on a cloudy noon by the tennis courts
You’ll forfeit that twinkle in your eyes, just like the predecessors before you

You’re name starts the chimes in my memory
Your past credentials have impressed me fellow enigma
The origins may vary from person to person
The fairy tale has ended and my interest has waned
My self-esteem will be the catalyst to my laziness
But it always ends in the same way

I’m losing my faith, that anyone’s gonna break the cycle
No matter the creed, colour or class it always goes the same
What’s to stop me from disconnecting completely?
When the excuses are the same?
When they all lead the same?
When they’re all the same?

Try as I might I’ll never escape the wheels of fortune
The scene loops again like a broken vinyl
How typical when I open my body up, and let these sensual thunderbolts
Invade the gateways into their epicentres to provide that taste of heaven
All I did was ask for a little admiration in return
Then I’ll see the same drop in their smiles on my pillows

You’re my Betty Crocker interlude
To break up a conveyor of base processes
Then why do the texts suddenly stop?
You’re my mascot clad onesie
After hours of grinding in corsets and heels
Then why does your grip loosen from my hand?

I’m losing my faith, that anyone’s gonna break the cycle
No matter the creed, colour or class it always goes the same
What’s to stop me from disconnecting completely?
When they all get bored the same?
When they all lie the same?
When they’re all the same?

* From the Gynophobia series*