A new technique…

… that’s going to change her life, From now on she won’t be able to remember, The evil men, the nightmares, the monsters, The Therapist promises; From now on a new life full of hope & wonder.   She wakes up the next day, Who is she? The memories have gone, But so has she! more

Daddy, I’m running on empty…

Is that you, daddy? Is that you haunting me? It’s time to say goodbye, So take your noose and fly.   I’ll blow you a kiss, But just remember this, Don’t take it the wrong way, Don’t make me regret, Having my say.   Because little girls don’t know, They just don’t know, daddy, And more

Sleeping with scissors:

Her beloved – dead and buried in the ground,

Sleeps in the next room to her,

To keep an eye on her.

 

She doesn’t like the growling in the night,

So she sleeps with scissors,

But apart from that, sublimely peaceful.

man colour

 

 

Did you ever really love me?

What chance did I have? . . . and there they go, There goes all of the people, Like soldiers in the snow.   Down they go, Straight into hell, Gone forever from me, (And yet still within), Stinking up the place with their smell.   Little scars inside of me, That probably won’t ever more

Of ponies, saxaphones and pretty ballerinas:

“I want a pony, mummy!” Six years to go, Twelve down, And six more years to go! Mummy disappears into herself, With pen and paper of course, Invisible Mummy, Uncaring Mummy, Hard to get along with Mummy, The circumstances of, The girl’s conception, Are blasted through the saxaphone, As her Ballerina twirls in front of more

The Ada Tree:

I took my love to the Ada Tree, the Ada Tree,Where we could be alone, him and me,I would tell of my dreams and two would become three.This was my chance – his dazzling smile had stolen my heart,At the Ada Tree; one last shot at romance,So much had passed between us that meant so more

The Haunting OR Just Call Me Heathcliffe

It’s just like the story (the legend),Of Wuthering Heights except in reverse,Childhood loves torn apart by circumstance:You’re the one who died leaving me to face the hurt.Which is worse, I’m sure I already know?To be dead but still roaming the earth: Lost, cold and alone,Or to be me; I sense you continually,In every corner of more