Another Unfinished Poem Of Mine!

No means no,
When you hear no it means no.
Not faster or slower,
Or hang on a second baby i need to breath.
It means no.
Women shouldn’t have to take classes on how to protect themselves,
Shouldn’t have to memorise how to put a man down long enough so she can save herself.
What happened to the times when it was you doing the saving.
No means no.
It does not mean let me just rearrange my underwear,
Nor can we move this wall is cold,
It means no.
Nothing more nothing less.
And ill be damned if you say it our fault,
With skirts that short and heels that high,
Who couldn’t resist,
And we’re not asking you too.
When did what you wear had to depend on where you were going and who was going to be there.
Thats like trying to say if you’re going out and theres even the slightest chance of a guy being there,
I want you dressed from head to toe,
No part of your delicate sensitive skin is to be shown.
Who is to say that because we wear a tight dress we want to be pulled,
Maybe it was in the sale or maybe it just makes us feel good.
No means no,
So don’t take anything she says to mean otherwise.
When your mother told you not to touch the cooker cause it was hot,
You didn’t touch.
When you’re father told you no more sweets before bedtime,
You did not eat.
So when your girlfriend says no,
You do not touch.
No matter how you dress it up,
Rape is rape.
It has nothing more to do with the fact she was asking for it by dressing so provocatively,
Then the fact you’re a massive douchebag who cannot take rejection.
In fact such a douche bag who can’t deal with rejection that you usually resort to violence.
No she cries,
A slap across her cheek answers her every plea until her lip is so swollen, her throat so horse
She cannot even utter her pleas anymore.
And when you leave completely satisfied with the new notch on your belt,
She is left with busies and scars that will never fade from her body.
She won’t be able to look herself in the mirror for shame,
Shame that society has put on her,
Blame that it was her fault,
Blame that she is the one who put herself in that situation.
No means no.
And if at the end of the day you cannot get your thick headed skull around that simple tiny word,
You do not even deserve to marvel at the beauty in front of you.
Short skirt or not.

Theres No Place Like Home!


‘Human beings are the only creatures on earth that allow their children to come back home.’ – Bill Cosby

Well guys, I’m at home. I’m a bit late to the party because I’ve actually already been home for over a week now!! But boy does it feel good! It feels great to have my feet on home soil. I didn’t realise how much I missed it, I guess that sayings true, you don’t know what you’ve got until its gone. Its quite daunting really knowing that in just a few weeks I’m going to have to be back in Leicester. As much as I’m looking forward to getting back stuck in, I can’t deny that I’m going to miss home all over again when I leave. I guess I just have to make the most of what I’ve got right?

I have such a lovely extended family in Leicester now, and I love them all to pieces but they are nothing like real family. Just the other day, my nephew was simply playing with his jigsaw and I got very sentimental over the fact that soon I’m not going to know the next time I’m going to be able to sit down and help him. 

I know its silly and irrational really, especially when I know that my plan one day is to move to America, which means moving country let alone changing post code. But in my mind that different because there won’t be the possibility of just popping home for the weekend, the closest I’ll get to home will be Skype calls and when the time comes I’ll settle for that. But for now, I know that there is nothing in the world I would rather do right now than spend some much needed time with my family and everyone at home because I really have missed them all so much. 

What can I say? There really is no place like home! 

A Poem From The Collection Of Poems I’ve Yet To Read Aloud…

And for a while my only friend was the glass in my hand,
The liquor slipping down my throat, the only warm touch I needed.
The ice the only thing I dare let linger on my lips,
For fear of being burned.
The voice in my head chanting ‘its okay’
Until the words just blur into one.
‘s’k, s’k, s’k’.
The strength of lifting my hand to my mouth
Rewarded by the rush than ran through me,
The shiver that shook my body,
When it was too strong, 
When there was far too much alcohol, in comparison to pop.
Just like there’s far too many emotions for me to deal with in this small body of mine.
A sip for sadness, a sip for regret, a sip for loneliness,
A gulp for rage, a gulp for courage, 
A glass for clarity.
This friend in my hand, was more delicate than I,
Drop me, I will hurt but I will not break.
Break my friend and they’ll shatter into a million tiny pieces,
My secrets whispered into the rim along with them.
My confessions spoken into the glass,
Released for a moment, 
Weight off my shoulders,
Only to weigh twice as much when I drink them back down, 
For having the time to clarify them. 

My New Unnamed Possibly Unfinished Poem

You used to look at me like I was the only thing in your world,
Like I was the one who was holding you safely on the ground,
It wasn’t easy but I held on tight each and every day,
Determined not to let you just float away. 
You’d touch me like I was the most delicate thing 
You’d ever had the pleasure of touching,
Like I was a sacred text and the only way to read me 
Was your fingertips on my skin.
And then you’d hold me so close we could almost be a whole,
So close, I could feel each breath fan across my neck,
Knowing there was no way you’d let me fall 
Into anything but the place I supposedly belonged. 
Your hands constantly finding my hair,
Idly twirling it around and around and watching it unravel,
The simplest pleasure in the world for you,
And I let you indulge because you at least deserved that.
At the end of the day, you would pull my back to your chest, 
Your head resting against mine, 
I’d hear the deep breath you take 
Almost like you were trying to breath me in.
After days apart you would run to me,
As though time apart had wearied you 
And I am the medication you desperately need, 
As though I am the only one who could put you back together. 
And you’d talk to me in riddles and poems 
Because it was too hard for you to tell me straight, 
But you knew I didn’t mind, that I’d take the time to figure it out 
And I would wake up each morning, eagerly awaiting the next one.
And then you would stare at me,
As if you were only just seeing me for the first time, 
As if you had finally begun figuring out the missing piece of the puzzle, 
And maybe you were.