Carlisle

Sea gulls screech and peck at my face,
peck away at this ivory.
I am disgraceful and I don’t think I’m real.

Why am I sat here: the cold hard North burns.
I’m full as a festive gut,
I am sharp as a sting – a big deal.

What was the gain,
Myself a giant and yourself full of care?
This humanness leaves me ugly and bare.

In a pool of silver, metallic I float.
The sun keeps me dry, I am sickly orange as the sky.
I’d rather be anywhere, anywhere but here.

I tear and wear, these niceties scare
Me bright blue to green – I’m violated, wide open and boring.
Will I be this lame, will I make you smile?

I’d rather be pecked to a pile.
Like a movie, I’ll live till the morning – tomorrow
You can all come and see if I’m gaping and hollow.

I am meat after all – meat, flesh and unrest.
You should pay for my smiles,
You should pay for my angst.

You’re an eye, you’re a serpent.
You blink and I scream:
I scream, I dream and you beam.

I’m big, real big and blue, dark blue.
I’m a brat on a bus going to London
And I may not hate you.

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ramblings on creativity, mental health and a malfunctioning society.

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