Let it be a butterfly

I used to pray, I wasn’t sure who I was praying to, but I always made a note that I was thankful, so grateful for my family’s health, I knew I was lucky, I knew it was precious and important.  Now I’m grateful when she has good days, when she doesn’t get worse, but I miss that pure feeling of relief that my family was well, that that heart wrenching tragedy was not mine, I think I knew it would come at some point; and it did.  I miss hanging out with my mum, I miss calling her whenever I wanted, I miss being excited and over the top, I miss being silly and crazy with her, I miss calling her to moan because I lost my keys or my temper.  I miss falling back and having her catch me, I know she still would but I’d crush her, it’s my turn to be the strong one now.  I miss popping over for dinner, I miss being selfish and not even realising.  I miss seeing her whenever I want and I miss calling her everyday.  Sometimes I feel guilty that I’m fine, that I’m carrying on, that the rest of my life is making me happier than ever, other times there is a sickening pit in my stomach and it creeps up behind my eyes making them prickle with tears, my breaths get deeper and I feel the sadness in my bones.  I worry this is forever, when I wallow I worry that I’m a selfish fool for worrying when in time she will get better. I feel guilty I’m not there for my dad, but what it means to be there for my dad makes me tense up and I can’t stand it.  I want her better, I want her better for me so I can feel like her child again, for my dad so he can feel whole before he breaks, for my sister who hasn’t had the chance to learn how lucky we are to have her and for my mum and her kind and firey soul before it becomes crushed by this cocoon.

Writers block

I’ve been trying to write, and I’ve been getting frustrated.  I’m happy, I have nothing to write about.  I need to write lyrics for a song, I hate everything that comes out of my head, I never realised how proud I am of my misery.  I re-read every sad thing from every horrendous and painful moment I have documented, nothing.  Everything I put on paper sounds generic and dull, who knew being blissfully content was so unproductive.


I could cry out loud for the way you hold her hostage

The days wasted, the months of haze and pain

This is life now, how was it ever so different

Time flies by but we are unable to move

Your days are numbered , how unfair that they are taken from you

So how do I stand it, just observe and carry on

I can’t help but worry that one day you’ll be gone

I’m scared you’ll be so sad that you are in this trap

Just because of that  one walk, one bite, a silent attack

And this is how we live now, with furrowed forheads as we go about our days

Because nothing can be done, the doctors out of options, my grandma sits and prays

But we are at the mercy, of your body and the universe

I like the way my tears taste, I hate the way you hurt


I am what the people call ‘trendy’

I am what the freaks call ‘chic’

I am why the ladies say ‘splendid’

All you want to do like I did


Now you tryna say that you’ll end me

why you wanna cause me this shit

don’t you wanna know me, well your friend did

she’s the one that told me bout this


get tipsy, get nasty, get dressy, get lippy

you trashy, not classy, those brows are not fleek

you’ll see me, you want me, don’t fight it, just drop it

I’ll drop you, and squash you, your bars are all weak


If you think you got the whole package

get your sealed delivered ass here

You say you wanna hit me, well your man did

Wonder if you’ll fuck me like him


Stop stressin’, i’m messin’, you’re thoughts are not pressin’

You bitchin, you wastin’ and whining to me

snap out and jump in, to reality bring, all your baggage to me

i’ll be down at the gym and just toss it or throw it chuck it

you’re stoic, you’re boring, you’re being the worst you can be


I am what the people call ‘trendy’

I am what the freaks call ‘chic’

I am why the ladies say ‘splendid’

All you want to do it like me


You’re my beautiful bitch, my pretty little lady

You treat me like your whore because you want me for life

You grab me by the throat to tell me that you love me

You wrap yourself around me, won’t let go all night

My pretty little lady, your tongue so sharp it’s crazy

you only let me scream when it is pressed inside my thigh

let’s keep this secret baby for the others think that maybe

the reason it feels good is that destruction feels so right