You could spill all your secrets
on to my bed

Or drown me
in all of the lies
that I keep being fed

Why don’t you laugh at the poetry
and all the words that I’ve said?

Or ask me to get on my knees

Or get the **** out of your head

We smoked a cigarette in Durham
As we watched the city glisten
I was undiagnosed then
but you didn’t want to listen

So though you keep on judging
while you are waiting for me to plead
my insanity was an honest defence
that you didn’t bother to read

I spoke to a man over coffee
who said his grandmother also had ‘thyroid
said it nearly ruined her marriage
because the doctor couldn’t fill the void

I went with such an ease
So they didn’t need to place me under section
If I knew how much he was hurting you
I would have murdered my own reflection

For years we spoke only of me
like **** all else mattered
We had all forgotten your mental health
and we all left you scattered

Do you remember at the hospital window
when it fogged from either side?
My words couldn’t reach you then
but with these poems I still try.

you may persue the same religion
but that book is mine
that is my holy Bible
that you've got tucked neat between your thigh

my hand written annotations
will remain splashed across it's pretty pages
and my tear-stained droplets
will still be there when it beautifully ages

so you can read it, you can rip it
you can even tear out the middle
but my name will always be inside it
because we ****** so hard in riddle