Our new day-glow orange shower curtain
Casts an inappropriately erotic light over the bathroom.
I get in the shower, feeling like I should tuck a fiver into its folds.

The curtain clings to my leg, climbing its way up.
It has decided to make love to me,
This erotic shower curtain.

I cannot go through with it, I peel it off me
Push it away.
“Filth curtain”, I say.
I shave my armpits in the awkward silence.

My Dirty Beauty

Himalayas of crispy clothing,
The scenery of your room.
A baked-in smell of chiropody.
Flowerbeds of mould, in bloom.
A Kitkat packet between the toes.
Spoons and bowls, married together.
Brown stains at home on every wall
As if each one had been there forever.

Snot-encrusted toilet paper.
Cups of fudge, once cups of tea.
But through it all I just see you,
My very Dirty Beauty.

For Lewis

Misery

Misery cracks through my frozen bones.
It dances on my see-through skin.
It crushes upon this moments breath,
Until it cowers and crawls back in.
Misery weds it’s purpose to my own.
It’s very concept is my heart.
It is the nightmare of my bitter senses.
It mocks my shaky words before they even start.
Misery looks down on us from its high tower.
It’s siren of destruction loud and shrill.
Misery grows with us forgetting, so remember,
Tomorrow will be better, yes it will.

Custom make me with your brand new touch.
Make me sure and bold but not too much.
Twist my every doubt back into knowing.
And never let me feel an ounce of owing.
Cast my worries into sand.
Bring my temper back to land.
Encourage my dreams to stand up proud.
Tempt my feelings to speak out loud.
Flush my heart simply by living.
Change my selfishness to giving.
Tease my smile into sight.
And for love, teach me to fight.
All this and more you do for me.
This is how love should be.

I must have been intoxicated
when I promised I as yours.
I must have been asleep
when I committed.
For I simply can’t remember
when I sank into you claws,
Or when I wore the jacket
you had fitted.
I didn’t even realise
what a contract I had signed,
Nor notice the cool shackles
on my skin.
I put away my doubts,
about the bliss you had designed.
But now I see the shit
that I am in.

True love will still wank off to someone else.
True love will still hide porn under the mattress.
True love will still lie about your arse.
True love will still hold firm that you’re a goddess.
True love will still allow a little flirting.
True love will still warm to memories past.
True love will still sweat through the verbal skirting.
True love will kid themselves that it will last.

I know that this is closure,
It’s clear as day to read.
I’m telling you it’s closure,
But you threaten that you’ll bleed.
I can’t remember what you’re like.
Indifference, on its way.
You say that I’m dramatic.
You finish what I say.
No laughing with each other now.
Our tone of voices low.
Feeling strangely old and bored.
Our text replies so slow.
You projects have you day and night.
Months and months go by.
Our sparkless interest fizzles out.
I know exactly why.
Tonight again, I sew together
Emotional invention.
You ring me when you’re feeling bad,
I sip my forced attention.
Half arsed invite on the phone.
A shyness starts to grow.
I do not know you anymore.
Want you to let me go.

Demon

I was introduced to my demon.
It was knocking loudly on my door.
It was again a dark, late night.
Yet this time I opened and It I saw.
I was introduced to my demon.
It came in such bizarre a form.
I thought of my immediate fears,
That now sat with me in my dorm.
No hand to shake, nor eyes to meet.
It was the strangest rendezvous.
I drew my breath to gather strength,
And then I began to undress you.

Tits

I wish there were no tits in the world.
They’re such a half measure.
They’re a sexual piece on every girl,
And are clearly used for pleasure.
The problem is, is isn’t fair.
What about us girls?
I want to see some hairy balls
In the pages of New of the World.
Even though they’re not that great,
And I think we’d prefer pecks.
I think it is the least we can do
To even out the sex.
It really is quite cheeky now.
That tits are on display.
And even though their common place,
They still not yet passé.
I think I’d rather there were none,
Than some defining gender,
As dump sexual animal scum,
That happen to be busty and slender.
My god we’re more than just these tits!
Pages Threes, are traitors to the cause.
Apart from having other bits,
We’re part of a far more intelligent clause.
And if the world can’t be this way.
Then lads, lets make it fair.
Get your sodding balls out,
And have a camera there.

Liver's Limbo

I’m tired of thinking what to say.
Tired of laughing when nothing’s funny.
I’m tired of feeling far away.
Tired of texting ‘I love you honey’.
Here I am in liver’s limbo.
Empty time has slipped away.
Looking out the bird-shit window,
Thinking still of what to say.

I know myself too well to care.
I wake up with me everyday.
There’s so much fun to have out there,
But I stay in with “Boo-Hurray”.
Here I am in liver’s limbo.
Going nowhere good today.
Maybe I should start up bingo.
Maybe I should drink my face numb.