Well...

It's a bit poetry central at the moment, sorry, overwhelmed by thoughts and as a silly girlie; I like to scribble them down into rambles that may be classed as 'poetry.'
Having in this past week failed my A levels (yes, it's happened, don't even need to wait til results), been going through the heartache of a *lovely* break up, and am just about to finish college and get myself sorted for uni, everything is a bit of a mess up there in Gemmaland. So apologies for any random scrawls/harsh words/ignorance/etc...
To be fair, I just have no idea what I'm doing, where I'm going or who I am at the moment. Everything is a blur. I'm trying to lose myself in hanging out with friends but all it's doing is making me sadder and feel more at a loss when I'm alone. Hmmm.
My writing is appalling in this so I'm cutting my losses and going to bed.
Hugs and tea.
xox

Love.

Love is a disease amongst the weak,
praying on the shy, doting on the meek.
Love is nothing,
and nothing is easy,
and how did i make you so sleazy?

Love is a game, and i give you all the blame.
Love is a tool;
cruel manipulation.
Love makes you a fool;
awful sedation.

Love is in your bones,
and love will be in my stones;
throw them hard and wish you away
fucking horror - cared to betray.

I won't love; need worry not,
I've learnt what it feels to have you as a clot.
But I do wish you'd care enough to say;
you lost your capacity for love once upon a day...

Blissful Lies

Another lie, another blissful lie..
nothing is real, she'll do nothing but sigh.
Tried the hardest she could possibly try,
but betrayal...
and heartache...
grow awfully stale.

She'll never know the real event...
spend her life wishing, thinking, asking for repent.
Watching corners pass her by,
remembering that blissful lie.

No doubt now; what's done is done.
She's still alive and the sun is still the sun.
He'll fade into the horizon, singing his song,
the blissful lie still running strong.

Suffocating in false realisation,
another face lost into the forgotten nation,
she's cut out, thrown away...
crying; 'why does the blissful truth betray?'

Ready?

no scrawls really descended my fingers
no real pain still fruitlessly lingers
infact there was no beauty in blue eyes
and no scratching of thighs
this was a simple test and a simple rest
though i forgave them everything
and had trouble to stop remembering
i never realised the size of how big this would grow
never felt myself letting go
a corona one too many
a bottle of wine too many
are you ready?

are you ready?

pain still stings, and i still sing,
beauty is still in blue lies
and burning is still between the thighs,
the simple test was never the best
but it was the easiest and that i never guessed
and now as i stand with a gin in my hand
i'll forever ask if i'm suitable for this task
am i ready?

am i ready?


i'll never be ready
never be steady
dance with the choir
profess myself never a liar
but once they cease this little piece of my shamble
i'll throw it all away on a simple gamble.

are you ready?

Hmm

laughing hard and reeling words
no regard,
this whole scene is absurd
waster joe, waster bob,
paying your way with your dead end job
cocaine high, makes you fly
illusion and intrusion
penetration and sedation, heart is in remission.

you make a joke, i want it revoked
you're the joke, a fucking...
encapturing nothing, you'll die looking
systematic workings of your dark cold beat
fanciful songs and ale
passed out drunk, dead on the street
my heart cold, and my passion old,
you never meant to entail, this whole thing grows stale.

i'll crawl away and drag my bones
across this concrete retreat,
i'll punish myself with whips and stones
i'll laugh at this joke, betraying my life
talk to the devil, and stroke his sythe
sexual innuendo never gets you far
but baby, this isnt the first time...
you've punctured me with rhyme.



something ive just scribbled down tonight.
sleep time.
x