Crash Team

I gave us nill by mouth for weeks
hoping the war would end
and wounded solders
could sleep deeply
and start their lives,
fresh but scared.

Pure, weak sentiment
made me get the crash team
they electrocuted  us back to life
only to die again
with a harsh beep and a straight line.

Nurses whispered truths
that should be screamed in pain
machines turned off
the end at last.

We'll always be wounded soldiers
and the a quiet war in my heart
but we can start again
now the darkness has died.

Forgivness

Forgive you,
Why?
That's God's job
my soul is too small.

Hating you saves me
from you ripping out my heart,
for fun
for screaming at me
for your sins.

And you send some money
to your heartbroken daughter,
a remembered birthday for once.

Don't think that even
starts to make up
for the chaos you left,
it can't be done.

I wish I could chuck
your carcass in the sea
never see you again.

Crashing

Another human car crash,
look happy,
talk a little too loud,
smile a little too wide,
not seen a bath for a while
not seen sanity for even longer.

And you skip off to get pissed,
known you since school
but not much to say now.

I ask about your lost children,
the x gave up and so did they,
better off wandering
happy in your blurred way.

Skin like wrinkled paper
soul of a lost teenager
at a party they can't leave
their parents didn't pick them up at midnight
and left their children to the sharks.

But you have each other,
until a low rent
Jeremy Kyle show
is for everyone to see.
Then you bed down of the pavement
another crash tomorrow.

Stepford Slut

I'll be your perfect

Stepford Slut,

take my heart it comes for free

you can’t steal my soul

It doesn’t exist.

Your ex rated Barbie for the night.

A comic toy,

Can’t walk home

On these stupid shoes

No cash for a cab.

And you can fuck,

With no consequences,

No messy love story,

No phone calls,

Just thrills and body parts.

Because you had sex,

With an empty soul,

Flesh and bone,

But no heart beasts,

You need to fuck,

But can’t stand love.

 I am a doll,

This is not free love,

But expensive hate.

Walking away from Hell

I walk about 30 miles a week, through rain, shine and snow there I am marching to one place to another. I’m too daft to drive, too impatient to wait for a bus so I walk, everywhere. Now this isn’t vanity, it’s deeper than that, my legs have such big calf muscles they’re a party trick. I don’t bother doing my hair all winter, it only gets rained on, and high heels are a no, my knees are too worn out even though they heals make my legs look a little less like a footballers and a bit more like Barbie’s. I walk away from Hell, that’s why I walk.

I don’t believe in God or sin, I believe the human mind can land us in Hell while were lucky enough to have life. I don’t believe Hell is a pit with fellow sinners, you might meet some fun people in Hell, the only company you have in your pit are your blackened memories and ghosts of your past, now where’s the fun in that?

By the end of a walk I’ve got to where I want to go, felt whatever crazy storm Mother Nature can chuck at me and Hell has gone, so where does it go, why does walking mean Hell is a few steps behind? Well it’s thanks to brain made endorphins, these make you feel better and take you out of depression or handmade pit. Your brain can make better chemicals than any lab too; a Harvard study showed exercise worked better than man made anti-depressants, they work for longer. What would you rather do in the morning, pop an addictive pill with side effects or walk to where you want to go? If you have to be addicted to something why not something that helps you sleep, burns calories and can prevent cancer; the flat stomach is cool too.

I have tried more rock in roll solutions to Hell, Vodka, pills from a dealer, pills from a doctor but nothing worked. A pill from a dealer only worked till the end of the rave then the comedown would leave me deeper in the pit, the happy pills from the doctor gave me strange dreams and made me feel like a Stepford human and the Vodka made me crazy and get to know toilet bowls. I gave every drug up out of self-respect. I was left with my old friend, walking.

Walking will never solve my or your problems, it does something even better, Hell is never far behind but if you stay there nothing gets solved there, my brain gets too full, the self-pity ties me up in knots and I can’t see a way, after a walk I have the power to solve my own problems and the strength to enjoy gothic skies and rain, and even see the challenge.

http://www.mentalhealth.org.uk/help-information/mental-health-a-z/E/exercise-mental-health/

http://www.health.harvard.edu/newsweek/Exercise-and-Depression-report-excerpt.htm