Blood drips from my fingers
staining the fragments bright red
which I consider quite fitting
as the shattered pieces I
clutch are my broken heart


Just us now, midge

My thoughts are incoherent
Still in that shocked phase
The reality of the situation
All the time that I’ve spent
The countless wasted days
Just to be left with desertion

I can feel a wall around me
Holding all feelings at bay
But it’s so weak and fragile
Before long I’ll be able to see
My difficult future on display
I will it to last just a while

In the short time I have now
Before the blinding emotion
And overwhelming despair
Beating it? If only I knew how
I need to try and set a notion
Of reality and those that care

I feel guilty saying I’m alone
Because I’ll never be alone again
Him disappearing out of the blue
Does not leave me on my own
Stroking my stomach as I pen
Comforted that I have kept you

And this I promise you, darling
Even though he’s left us behind
Love will constantly surround
You and you’ll want for nothing
I will be mother and father aligned
My devotion for you will astound

“Midge” is the name I’ve unwittingly given to my unborn baby, not sure where it came from, but it’s stuck.

Baby Name Dilemma

What about Rachel?
Oh no, not Rachel, there was a Rachel
That I went to college with, too cruel.
How about Sarah?
It can’t be Sarah, I worked with a Sarah,
We were best friends, but now I hate her
Laura or Beth?
I won’t have either, I knew a Laura-Beth,
She was a bitch in school, now she’s on meth
Something like Joanne?
Don’t mention Joanne, there was a Joanne
That ruined my life and stole my man
Clare, Liz or Stephanie?
None of those would work of me
Anna, Stacey or Evelyn?
I know them all and none of them win

You don’t realise how many people you hate
Until you try to pick a name for your baby
Maybe that’s why people nowadays create
Ridiculous names that used to seem daft to me.

And that’s only the girls names!

When I know

When I sit in stop-start traffic
At rush hour to pick you up
When I watch you play FIFA
Even though you know I get bored
When I make brews on demand
And drink none of them myself
When I try to cheer you up
After you left me to be upset
When I know that what I do
Will not be returned by you

That is when I know, that I am in love.

My Shakespeare

Let me indulge you in a story of old, my dear
As you like it written on yellowing parchment
I’ll not budge an inch from my seat right here
Until my feathered quill and ink are both spent

My winter’s tale begins much the same as any other
Two kindred souls trying to seek the light of truth
Romeo and Juliet‘s passion had nothing on my lover
But the course of true love never did run smooth

All the world is a stage, and we surely acted
It started like the taming of the shrew
I was a wretched soul bruised, and he reacted
Measure for measure proving his love true

Speak low, if you speak love” he whispered
What’s mine is yours, and what is yours is mine
There are no words to describe what he delivered
We were our own comedy of errors, every line

The twelfth night of our engagement, doubt came
Painful jealousy at the mention of someone else
Demanding answers, getting “What’s in a name?
Before leaving I cried “There is no darkness but ignorance

Much ado about nothing has ripped us apart
And it was an eternity after our love’s labours lost
That no legacy so rich as honesty entered my heart
And oh what a fool honesty is, if losing him is the cost

Unable to cope without him anymore, I scream
One warm August eve, brought me back from hell
Like we were sharing a midsummer night’s dream
He returned to me finally, and all’s well that ends well

Let’s Be Honest

“Let’s write a list!” I said,
enthusiastically ignorant
as we get ready for bed.

“A list, that’s what you want?”
You respond with eyebrow raised,
folding your jumper neatly
onto the pile you’ve placed
near the bed carefully.

I nod happily like a child,
and mumble “mhmm!” aloud
as I look up and find
your head is still bowed.

“What kind of a list?”
You ask as you scan around,
making sure you’ve not missed
anything left on the ground.

“We write one each, mine
of all the things about you
that I dislike, or that define
what I’ve had to get used to.
And yours the same for me!”

I turn and take in the sight
of you sipping a cup of tea,
and setting a joint alight.
I sigh impatiently, rolling my eyes,
you always take so long.
We both watch smoke rise
as you skip to the right song.
Finally you start to speak

“Why would we do that?
What are you trying to seek?
I don’t want to see you sat
there scribbling away countless
imperfections you hate,
making you like me less.
I can’t tell if this is bait,
if you want me to compliment,
confess my undying love,
No matter how much you torment.
You know that you are enough.”

I stammer a little, heart swelling
as I feel my cheeks going red.

“This was just my way of telling
you to stop always farting in bed…”

Sonnet #6 – The Sonnet of Sonnets

All days are nights to see till I see thee
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir
And let your love even with my life decay
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die
When forty winters shall beseige thy brow
But as the marigold at the sun’s eye
And die as fast as they see others grow

O cunning Love! with tears thou keep’st me blind,
Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.