The feeling inside me just won’t go away.
The feeling within me is stronger today.
The feeling of sadness, of hurt and of doubt.
The feeling of loneliness is trying to get out.
To cry or to sob, I can’t decide which.
To shout and to scream “Get out of this ditch!”
This pit of despair is closing in fast.
Just when will it stop? How long can it last?
The feeling of hatred and pain come to mind.
The feeling of uselessness is very unkind.
This feeling I’m feeling is much stronger today.
This feeling of emptiness just won’t go away.
Like Rain on Chalk
Like rain on chalk, I wash you from my day
For you are someone so cruel,
I didn’t think I’d ever get away.
You had some power that made me stay,
I must have been a fool,
I didn’t think I’d ever get away.
For six months my life was in disarray,
I was just a kid, still at school,
I didn’t think I’d ever get away.
Most battered women don’t escape they say,
But I broke the rule.
I didn’t think I’d ever get away,
Like rain on chalk, I wash you from my day.
Papier Mache
Keep building up your papier mache life
Hide behind your mask.
Cut up your personality with an artist’s knife.
Keep building up your papier mache life
And when you’ve finally finished your task
Why not make yourself a wife?
People like you are so rife
In your own sunshine you can bask.
Keep building up your papier mache life
Cut up your personality with an artist’s knife.
The Chair
My love.
Your chair has supported you,
But ruined us.
After the accident I looked after you.
I didn’t notice you leaving.
Even in your chair you managed to walk away.
I never stopped you,
I never wanted to.
Untitled
I’m sitting here, I’m watching you,
I like what I can see.
You’re sitting there, doing your work,
You haven’t noticed me.
At times like this, I study your face,
Your eyes, your mouth, your nose.
The way you sit, the way you slouch,
The way you look in your clothes.
So here I sit, all quiet and still,
I love to simply stare.
As you don’t know, I’m watching you,
So you cannot scowl and glare!
Little Things
A clever head on his shoulders
A killer ass at the top of his pins
A great mouth for talking and kissing
Just a few of my favourite things.
All poems copyright © Andi Dawson
