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breaths heavy clues
the stains are left
five long years of them
all over the house
ironed love
steamy spitting farking starched hemmed in
laboured aproned stringed n stained
on Lino floors
the micarriage of abortions
she still feels each punch
naked nicotine lung of light hangs
like a lynching
of white power
from the cord high above
n she She
can’t wake up
till it’s too darn late
the laundry is done
the filths been washed
they’ve all gone
cept him
n this is where she’ll hide
far away
from all there was in life
resting sleeping
call it a passing
it’s just a lil death
call it a spirit of suicide
she splutters on her own vomit of laughter
likely the last one
she’s really feeling drowsy now
didn’t think it would be so messy
or take so long
Farking Hollywood
she even bought her own cask
emptied it
n splutters a laugh again
Cremation will do it
was left on a note
didn’t wont to cause a fuss .. she wrote
n tell him
he’ll just have to press his own shirts now
Man about town War Hero
well
seems they missed something
wonders if they’ll sack him
Not likely
probably feel sorry for the bastard
she vaguely wonders
if he’s as big a bastard in uniform
as he is at home
Nah They’ll think the sun shines outa his arse
Weird how war can pull that off
when they send them home
n everybody’s Mr Hero
Who is this monster
At first she thought
What did she think
Cause she didn’t know
n still doesn’t
what has happen
to this sweet loving man she knew
married
who found a stray kitten
feed it with his fingertips of milk
early hours of the morning
she’d find him sitting next to a box
he’d made with his jumper as a blanket of warmth
singing what sounded a lullaby
as he feed nourishment n love
to care for a kitten
How she loved him for that
How she dreamed of his coming home
all the things they had wrote about
having a baby starting a family
n him always asking
how is ‘In the Wars’
That’s what he’d named
this now full grown cat
Gad Had it been that long
since he left
This War had now taken him hostage
like a parasite it feed greedily
off the very core of his once sweet existence
she knew He the man she loved
was never coming back
After Five years of what felt to her
like he was trying to teach her to fight
To kill him
she’d now become his own personal war enemy
Her refusing his orders
n no one listening
just still enlisting
n at the cock of his gun
becoming the norm of his arousal
she knew the Camo had to go
She wakes come morning
face hair stuck to the kitchen floor
amongst all the spit n vomit
she’s watching them all look horrified shocked
as she leaves herself
the ambos have stopped resuscitation
n wanders above for what seems an eternity
reality only a second
for the love of war
In The Hive 