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50 5 Star Amazon Reviews!
A raw, intimate collection of poetry and original artworks. From hand holding to planning funerals, this is poetry about the human condition at its most raw and intimate.
Video about this book directed by me
He Let A Demon In
His once delicate voice
now so harsh and deep,
he let a demon in while dreaming
he couldn’t fight it, far too weak,
he now talks about suicide and fantasises over death
I just hope he says goodbye to me, before he takes his final breath.
My heart aches and aches
he doesn’t hug me like we’re in 2005
I don’t mention it though, he’s in pain
and I’m just grateful he’s still alive,
when we touch he’s freezing, he makes my body far too cold
what’s inside of him is not human, stolen, gone is his soul.
He doesn’t have long left
the darkness has a tight grip on him
he’s drained, he’s empty, he’s hurting
so he’d rather drown than try to swim,
we talk less and less and less as the weeks go speeding by
so I’ve faced the tragic fact that soon he is going to die.
His once delicate voice
now so harsh and deep,
he let a demon in while dreaming
he couldn’t fight it, far too weak,
he now talks about suicide and fantasises over death
I just hope he says goodbye to me before he takes his final breath.
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A brutally honest, raw collection of poetry accompanied with original artwork. This collection pours desperation, confusion and anger as Michelle describes spending her entire childhood from just twelve years old sectioned, trapped in psychiatric units, being subjected to torturous abuse.
Broken Doll
My life was so delicate
a single, well-thrown stone broke it,
now my life is desecrated
parts scattered around, some missing,
my life now a broken doll
and now the strings of evil control it.
My life was an antique
but an old, heartless thief stole it,
now I face the mirror
my limp limbs and frail skin,
reflecting in the light
my impurities uncovered,
now they control me.
I’m a broken doll
a muse,
a toy to use,
break,
blame.
Cigarette Butts
Cigarette butts are now my fascination
it’s the irreversible effect,
life then death
a bit like torture
it goes on, then it goes out
but it cannot be forgotten
the change is irreversible.
I like the way they are pushed, shoved,
squashed into little holes
forced into awkward positions
forgotten about straight away.
Cigarette butts are now my fascination
it’s the irreversible effect,
light on, light out
like a light to heaven glowing
crying out to be seen
but no
its used and abused
like one train of thought,
choked on daily
sucking the life out of it.
I like the way the foot drags
upon the stone floor
putting the butt out with no, no effort
like torture it goes on, then it goes out
but it cannot be forgotten.