August 12, 2010

Saint Longshot

I can't hurt to ask.

It could work out just lovely, in fact it is going to work out lovely but if I can get back in there me and wee man would be well chuffed although I'm sure a polish lassie and her family are in there and if so, all the best stay there for as long as you need or longer.

B is sleeping, I told him to take his time, precious cargo after all. Ordered Kate Rusby, tunes for a new beginning..

August 11, 2010

quiet boy

I haven't known what to do with him today, at least it poured down for most of the day so I had a good excuse for letting him have a TV day. Shouldn't have packed.. need to go..
I don't b would let me down, but I don't think a particularly wants to see me I don't want to hang around here while my dad picks away at any improvements in my mental health, I worked bloody hard for those improvements.

I'm sure, T told me it would be okay she'll be watching. I hope she's not alone I think I might need a few of them now. There's still a bit of my thinks its wrong to pray for comfort, for a little more independence or at least honest dependence. I know its bollox though, it will still hurt but it wont be the wall paper like it is here. I know that everyone who has ever loved me and quite a few that didn't hate the thought of me living here, with him and them. In a crime scene, with the echoes of tortured angels and all that mighty evil. How can you go home when your being followed, how can there be any privacy any sanctuary when your moves are someone else's gamble.

I'm a wee woman, I've around a bit, I'm intelligent, educated, firm in my beliefs and capable just get me down the road.


Rucksack full, files burned, supernoodles and new milk cup bought, blue folder not exactly organised but empty of waste paper, support numbers found, notebooks packed.

I hope there isn't a change of heart or circumstances and the lift falls through. I will find that pretty tricky, haven't said anything to dad as he isn't easy to talk to at the best of times, the plan is to say I'm just going for a few days. Avoided any big goodbyes with the rest of family at C's party it's her day. She's got enough to deal with leavin the girls isn't easy, I talked about everyone else moving down to. No one had any issues except practicalities of finding a home. Isn't not the right place for folks like us, it makes you feel abnormal, a human stain instead a human being who hasn't been particularly lucky.

Watched some of Depp's Alice again, I still think its brill, properly atmospheric, true to the darkness of the books, and the scottish mad hater fairly works for me!

It's all going to be okay, sure I'm very nervous but mostly I'm mostly scared of going through all this emotionally for it to come to nothing, I hate it when that happens. When in my head, my flesh, every bit in me is moving forward but circumstances remain out my control. Running till I faint but travelling no distance. It's very spitting, big chunks of me has gone and are waiting for the rest of me to catch up. The distance and obstacles just get further and bigger until thers mountains separating me from me.

sexually confused dreams

a beautiful women, who is totally boobless like a skinny boy
A lovely bloke but when I keep my eyes closed and its the maid that kisses me
I'm confident to say I am curios again, not in lets get wasted and get it over with but in an oohhh touch me sort of way.. its lovely but also a bit intense and nauseating

August 10, 2010

I like when lots of small dodgy poems first start to become a big cool one..

The themes of this one will be music, my dad, healing, incest, storms, travel ...

A cute bloke has emailed me but I can't afford the subscription..
He seems so much more physically attractive than the usual mooses that have been viewing me.
Niece's bday today, which I'm glad of.

Tonight I sort out the dreaded blue folder, comp letters, passport, housing, numbers of rape crisis, portable file storage..
There was thunder last night but slept well for the first time in ages without walking it off in the evening. I thought it would be easier just to stay here because it wasn't raining when I woke up and I wan't still tired. I've been drenching this bridge in petrol for as long as I can remember, if it wont burn the only other option is just to walk, and keep walking. Stick the wee man in his buggy and let him suck in the changes of scenery and then sing them back at me when he's sleepy or in the middle of the night deep in his dreams his eyes shout but his mind and voice opens up.

August 09, 2010


There day he threatened my mum with an ice cream scoop, it was in the morning I can't be arsed with family bullshit before 10 and pretty much blanked it. Ice cream for breakfast, its not anyone's birthday. Yesterday he came home from the pub pissed and pissed off, pretty normal Sunday. Sometimes hes cheery drunk for a little while anyway. He tried to open a cupboard the one with the remaining child lock with frustrated him so he snapped it of, saying something about there being no need for them. I wasn't feeling too tolerant, the pain had come on pretty quick and intense, so I snapped back saying dad was there any need for that? He got right in my face saying don't start with me.

Me and mum agreed it was time to get real, again. Or maybe even for the first time.

A pal phones latter about another pal who isn't coping too well with a relationship ending. He says hes picking us up Thurs. I'm pretty ready, NFA. Time to move on. I just hope someone can get a hold of a cot bed.

Two poem ideas one about music, and about my dad = one good poem.

August 06, 2010


to wade through the notebooks and scavenge everything that burns and everything that sings.

Its words, they are tiring not exhausting. Still though I stare at the screen and the potential like a tumbled down cottage, excellent location, beautiful garden but there is no roof, the electrics are dangerous and the access needs a lot of work..

August 05, 2010


Positive validation is lovely, I'd like much more please
Saw a counsellor she is lovely and has referred me for psychotherapy
I've been referred to gyny too
It's all going to take lots of time
Found a poetry competition with a deadline and a prize I can work for
something to keep me going until OU starts again.

My dad wants his dig money, wee man needs shoes, clothes and a better male role model
I can't hand over my benefits so he can spend it in the bar every night
he might put his drinking as a top priority, above family needs, family wants
but I'm not.

Growing up in shitty clothes, no leisure, taught fuck all social skills
he'd grudge us a couple of quid for sanitary towels when he spend hundreds in the bar
I'm not comfortable with wanting to come back, just for the full fridge
but I need to even scores a little, its closure for me. No cash when angel was born
or all through the pregnancy but he handed my working nephew a couple of grand for better transport
maybe I should reconsider CSA
cant yet though, wont yet.

Hug life

August 02, 2010


Maybe I should spend longer on the appeal letter but it's not easy, my head goes blank. I feel so stupid writing anything, like a clipe, its stupid.

Found "stop mind control and ritual abuse know" and have put it on my list of things I have to do. If anything I am bound to get a sympathetic ear hopefully and hopefully and opportunity to contribute to research. They might be able to help with the claim but if not it should at least be a bit of support.

Dad not working today, one of them in the house is bad enough but both of them is a nightmare, he just reads and doesn't engage or help out, except to give wee man ice cream for breakfast when the fridge is full of fruit. I guess I should get up quicker but its like waking up under a pile of rubble, takes ages to negotiate my way out underneath all the crap before I can communicate or preform essential tasks like going for a pee or getting breakfast sorted. My mum just cleans, and uses the washing machine all day. I hide out struggling to be in the same room, wasting time, hating myself for wasting time and day dreaming about magic fixes. I can believe myself sometimes how hard I used to work, to make things just a little better to give one kid a bit more of chance, to give myself a little real comfort, to expose. The tiredness, the overworked feeling never leaves. Like the dehydration used to get little kids to swallow, the endless takes because I refused. That feeling as your own body betrays you.

Tomorrow I post my shoddy appeal and start an email to smart.