Dominic

“Dominic, Dominic!”

I hear as I smile

The washing is on

Been on for a while

The cycle is spinning

The colours entwined

I’m waiting to hang

It out on the line 

House

A home to the ghouls

The skeletons in the closet

Skulls and bones with dead memories

And the carpet stain – lost deposit.

The blackout drunk nights

And the bloody faced fights

When you clambered into bed

Pulled the duvet over your head.

The food in the fridge

Some rotten and some squished

Between the shelves

Expiry date not far away.

On the worktop, a half-eaten apple

Decays in the sunshine

Some days this place is hell

And other days it’s all mine.

Made In Devon

I was made in Devon

Christmas party, 1994

Pink duvet, wine on the night stand

And discarded heels on the floor

I was three months early

A demon in disguise

Feeding off my mother

Almost causing her demise

My father was an engineer

Fixing broken taps in pubs and bars

But he couldn't fix himself

Hence the faded silver scars

My mother has two parents

Who were full of love and care

Teaching her to cook and clean

In case they were not there

I’m the first member of my family

To go to university, do a degree

But my family are so complex

There’s many layers under what you see

My Scottish Granddad

Beat my Grandma, left the home

And my epileptic uncle,

Grandma and Dad all alone

My other Grandpa, John

Survived the war and the bombs

Though his house was blown to pieces

He was in the shelter, singing songs

My Grandma was a chef

Feeding a hundred mouths a day

She still loves to entertain

Fussing and fretting in every way

I'm the black sheep of the family

The rainbow lesbian child

Although it took a while to sink in

And my dad became quite riled

My family are fucked up

But they don’t admit it at all

Acting upper class, prim and proper

Always dressed fit for a ball

I still remember the day

My father left the home

Suitcase packed, full of pills

Only moving up the road

Unanswered calls, frantic screams

Paramedics bashing down the door

To find him in a pool of blood

Slit wrists, unconscious on the floor

My mother loves control

She’ll tell me what to do

“Don’t eat that, you’ll get fat!”

“That’s a portion size for two!”

My crazy screwed up family

Half lower class, half posh

Some scraping by, day by day

Others rolling in the dosh

I'm a Munro, a quarter Scottish

And the other half from Hackney

I come from a time, that if I whined

It was okay to smack me

That’s the ugly parts of the past

Now I’m 20 years old

That’s half the story, half the book

But the rest I haven’t told…

Family Values

Laura wants a cat

but forgets to brush her teeth

Bobby keeps moaning

about hating corned beef.

Neil isn't much help

when he's snoring in his chair

or downing yet another beer

which really isn't fair.

I've completely had enough

of this domestic charade

so I've been seeing Jack

and he always gets so hard.

My bra comes off in seconds

my pants slide to the floor

he kisses me roughly

as I slam shut the door.

The room smells of sex

sweat, heat and cum

I don't feel bad at all

just breathless, sore and done.

Neil never fucked me

the way Jack always does

he put it in, pulled it out

in a five minute dreary fuzz.

He rolled over, grunted

and fell fast asleep

while I lay there disappointed

my clothes tangled in a heap.

I'm the naughty housewife

the fuck buddy, the whore

but Neil won’t be smiling

when I file for a divorce.

Meltdown

The tears come thick

And faster than ever

A Monday meltdown

Of self-doubt and fear

The worries haunt you

The world scares you

Everything is brighter

And faster, too fast

The people keep talking

The room keeps spinning

The sounds get louder

Your breathing heavier

You fall to the floor

Terrorised with fright

Wait for everything

To soon be alright.

Fighter

You think you're ugly
that your body is gross
you don't seem to realise
how beautiful you are

you don't know quite
how much you can survive
you deal with the pain
and take it in your stride

you never can see
your true reflection
you see a monster staring back
as you gaze in the mirror

you self destruct all over
again and again
never pausing to pat
yourself on the head

you deserve some credit
love and tender care
take my hand, look at me
I'll take you there.

Monsters

The monsters aren't fake
for your they're rather real
they're the sadness in you heart
and the pain that you feel

they hide under your bead
and come out at night
baring their sharp teeth
and put up a fight

they aren't ogres
snakes or ghosts
they're the darkness in your soul
the people who hurt you the most

they're your reflection in the mirror
your self confidence inside
all of the flaws
you try so hard to hide

the emotional scars
and red on your skin
trying to infect
your mind within.