Taboo Page 2

  “Stop raising your voice, there is no need to shout, just lie down honey, it will soon dry out.”

  I try to push him, but he is too heavy to be moved,

  “Just move over babe, make me some room.”

  Then it occurs to me I know exactly what to do, for he is as stupid as he is cute.

  “Babe if you trade spaces with me, I will wake you up really nice.”

  Now I am smiling sweet looking at my guy,

  I have his attention and he simply says:

  “Will you wake me up in my favourite way?”

  I reply saying:

  “Yes, if you trade place.”

  He starts to move, and I think I have won, but before he does, he needs the contract done.

  “Wake me up with a blow job and I will sleep in the jellyfish.”

  That’s the deal made, we sign it with a kiss.

  Now I’m on the dry side he is sleeping in the jellyfish, it will be two more nights until again we argue over this.

  Love Igloo

  If you’re searching for a piece of happiness during dark times, take a step back and search deep into your mind.

  For the good memories the ones that made you smile will be there, embrace these and practice self-care.

  Replace the negatives with positives and you will bloom, love will always win so indulge until you’re consumed.

  Create yourself a love igloo where negatives can’t get in, believe me when I say positivity will always win.

  Life does have a dark side that will shadow all of us but keeping prospective and pushing forwards is a must.

  Some events will change your life, if this happens always remain kind, for you are not whatever’s happening in your life.

  Pain can shape you in a multitude of ways, make sure you use this to create better days.

  Look at your friends, see who is there, pay attention to those who really care, healthy relationships are where you must begin, and your inner circle should always want to see you win.

  Cut out all toxicity, that’s what you must do, anytime it comes near retreat to your love igloo.

  Self-destruct don’t entertain, playing with fire you’ll only have yourself to blame.

  Don’t project your pain on to others, you won’t feel better by making them suffer.

  Make sure you keep your skies the brightest of blues, don’t get ate up with self-doubt and gloom.

  Take the flakes of glitter that come your way, in the land of hope make sure you stay.

  For you must remember even if it’s thundering and grey, you will see brighter days.

  Mirage

  I’m always dressed immaculate with shoes that match my dress, my hair will be done up and my lipstick will be red.

  I wear a coat of armour made from positivity, this may be a front but it’s all I will let you see.

  The pain that I feel pumps my heart of gold, helping others feeds my tarnished soul.

  I am not the girl who looks like what she’s been through, I am a mirage to many known by only a few.

  Mortified

  I had been dating my guy for around seven months, all my friends hated him, but I wouldn’t give him up.

  Sunday was our day that we would hang out, feast on sex, eat junk food and lounge about.

  This Sunday was different as he went to a boxing match, I stayed in his house and ran myself a bath.

  Around five pm he called to ask if I would be in when he got back, for he hadn’t taken his keys, he would be home after grabbing a kebab.

  Knowing I had two hours before he would be home, thought I’d give him a treat and give dressing up a go.

  So, I shaved all my vitals, coco buttered my skin, painted my nails and dressing up did begin.

  Pulled on black crotchless knickers, donned a matching bra, pulled on some stockings and listened out for a car.

  Light some candles to set the atmosphere, put on seven-inch heels, and ask myself will I be able to walk when he gets here?

  My make-up consists of thick smoky eyes, bright red lipstick, a trademark favourite of mine.

  I pull on a see-through gown that flows to the floor, doesn’t cover anything just adds to the outfit more.

  Long set pearl necklace hanging from my neck, now I am ready for whatever happens next.

  Look in the mirror and I’m quite impressed, can’t wait to see his face when he sees how I am dressed.

  Just before seven and the doorbell rings, now it’s time for the fun to begin.

  “Babe I’m coming!” I shout towards the door, as I am walking all dolled up down the hall.

  I turn on the porch light, and grab at the lock, pull the door open, it’s not him and I’m shocked.

  There is a man standing there who must be hitting sixty, I’ve not even registered I am basically naked.

  The man just stares at me, whilst I’m stood in underwear then he asks if my boyfriend is there?

  I explain he is currently on his way home, feel free to come in and make yourself at home.

  The man has a strong Scottish accent, he doesn’t look me in the eyes, and then he says he is the father of my guy.

  I am no longer feeling sexy, I am now feeling mortified for this is the first time I have met the father of my guy.

  Still not looking at me then he simply says, “Can you let my son know I popped round today?”

  Trying to hide my nakedness by covering up with my arms, the man is now smiling as he walks away from the door.

  I close the door feeling a huge relief, now I call the guy I’m seeing to bring him up to speed.

  When he answers he says he’s just walking up the road, so I say no worries it can wait until you’re home.

  The door knocks for a second time, I ask who it is before I open this time.

  “It’s me,” the response is from my boy, open the door and his mouth hits the floor.

  “Before you get started there’s something you need to know, I just answered the door to your dad wearing these clothes.”

  He is absolutely gobsmacked for all of two seconds, before erupting into laughter, telling me to come here, he will call his dad after.

  Meeting your partner’s parents is always an awkward time, but I guess yours isn’t as bad as mine?

  My Closure

  I’m wearing a hat, I’m dressed in pink and blue ready to watch a mate say I do.

  The orchard is beautiful flowers in bloom, they’re getting married in what they call the orange room.

  Sat in the service, love in the air, everyone dressed their best, girls with flowers in their hair.

  Look at my phone there’s a message from Jess: “Do you know what’s happening whilst you watch your mate get wed?”

  I don’t understand, what does she mean? Pop out to call her and ask her about the message I just received.

  Her voice is quiet like a mouse, why so meek when she usually shouts?

  “Your ex is getting married to the girl he met, the service is happening now, has no one told you yet?”

  The one he proposed to on my birthday just twelve weeks ago? “Yes, I thought you should know.”

  I hung up the phone without saying a word, I can’t comprehend what I just heard.

  I go back to the service and sit there in shock, Laura walks in in a beautiful frock.

  As I watch her say I do… I know he is doing the same thing, the same time too.

  Service is over, I’m straight to the bar, wasn’t going to drink, now I’m leaving my car.

  I ordered a double Vodka with a tequila chaser, this could turn messy later.

  I pulled myself together, mingled with the guests, congratulated my mate who just got wed.

  I strangely managed to enjoy my night, even got drunk and I didn’t cry.

  Driving home is when it finally hit me, wasn’t what I expected, I finally felt free.

  So many years, so much disrespect, now it was over and this finally my closure.

  Ritual

  I didn’t sleep las
t night, nor the night before. It could be six nights? Maybe it is more.

  I didn’t eat today or the day before. It could be six days? Maybe it is more.

  I don’t remember who I am, I fear I may be lost, hatred consumes my soul, like a ride I can’t get off.

  Time for my ritual, I have done this before, the only thing that comforts me, nothing does it more.

  Open a bottle, whatever’s on the shelf. Hoping it’s Vodka as tonight I’m going to hell.

  The bed’s not the place to be, I want to be on the floor, think of all the bad that’s happened and hurt myself some more.

  I can’t undo what’s been done so torch myself instead, think of my worse memories and relive them in my head.

  Sometimes I just need to release the pain I feel inside, everyone handles break ups differently, this is how I do mine.

  Makeup running down my face merging into a mask, pour myself another drink, this bottle’s not going to last.

  Usually I’m a sunshine person but right now I’m the darkest blue, if anyone saw me now, they’d ask who the hell are you?.

  I should be smashed but I’m still sober. Now it’s time to drink sambuca.

  The liquorice taste burns my mouth making me warm inside, here I am drinking to all the men who have left my side.

  Someone knocks my door but I’m not going to answer, I’ve got Amy Winehouse on, now I play her louder.

  Her voice soothes me, her lyrics hit the mark, it’s perfect music to play when you’re swigging in the dark.

  Drunkenness evades me and it’s really pissing me off, I’ve smoked a thousand fags and now I begin to cough.

  Why can’t I just pass out and wake up in a week? Tell the girls I’m handling it, that life is pretty sweet.

  But first I must endure this crazy ritual of mine, don’t know why I do it, guess it is my crazy side.

  Things he said in my head and I question the reason why, didn’t even think I liked him, now I feel like I may die.

  I stare at the knife block and my mind turns dark, would have been less painful if I had chucked myself in front of a car.

  Not that I’d do that, that’s not my scene. I’m more 1950s romance novel queen.

  I don’t know what day it is or how long I’ve been awake, I’m still on my floor, what a pathetic state.

  Look at the empty bottles and I can count four, think it means it’s three days I’ve been sitting on my floor.

  I don’t want to cry anymore, I think my ritual’s done, so now I’ll put a fake smile on and pretend the pain’s all gone.

  I will see the girls and they will tell me I’m looking great, then I will smile to myself, they won’t know hours earlier I was a state.

  Maybe my ritual isn’t the sanest of things to do, all I know is it works and gets me over you.

  Solly Street

  You exit the pub, I follow in wonder… Why are you leaving I begin to ponder?

  You’re silent, you can’t look at me and walk into the night, the way you’re behaving makes me tremble inside.

  I’m confused, what is it I’ve missed? For five minutes earlier our evening, our relationship was bliss.

  We were just making plans for New Year’s Eve and even March, why is it now you’re walking into the dark?

  I catch you up just two steps behind, the wind is bitter, yet do I know there is worse to come tonight.

  You mumble you’re going to hurt me and that we should split up, I try to stay calm yet my head screams what the fuck?

  I take a deep breath and ask who those people in the pub were? Your body doesn’t want to answer me, but your mouth gives it up…

  “Friends of my ex,” you sigh as my head races… Five months in there shouldn’t be an ex in sight!

  Too shocked to cry, too speechless to protest, you’re marching home like a man possessed.

  The air is cold but I’m shaking in fear, is this really going to be the end of what I thought my finest year?

  No warning, no notice, have I missed the signs? What the fuck are you doing? We were progressing just fine!

  You stall at your door… what, do you want me to beg? For a moment the night is silent until you said, “Want to come in and get your stuff?” Is he joking? I’ve had enough!

  How I wish now I put up a fight instead of being the bigger person and remaining so polite.

  Just when it couldn’t get worse right then it did, you go inside leaving me alone and stranded.

  Sheffield City Centre alone in the dark, being from Leicester 71 miles never seemed far, but tonight I’ve been dumped and have drunk too much to get in my car. Didn’t think this would ever have happened just an hour early whilst in the bar.

  I stood on the corner of Solly Street, looking up at the sky asking what the fuck just happened? Is this really my life? Five months together not one row, plans for Christmas all gone now.

  The streets are empty, I’m afraid of the dark, now I must find somewhere to rest my broken heart.

  I stumble into a hotel and suddenly feel warm, the man at the desk recovering from a yawn. I stand in front of him and burst into tears, surprising myself, it’s the first time I’ve cried all year.

  Tears in which I thought I’d drown, don’t think they’re going to stop… I’ve started now. My body is aching, I feel dead inside, is this the aftermath of what I thought the perfect life.

  The man asks no questions just books me a room… one I walk to consumed with nothing but doom.

  As I sit on the bed, I’m in shock, how could you have seemed so perfect but in reality, be a massive cock.

  I call Lorraine, I need a friend…. She’s witnessed my five months of pleasure, now I need to confess my night of pain.

  She can’t believe what I’m saying so I relay the story again, four times over it still didn’t sink in.

  “What do you mean he’s dumped you? Left you in the street? He was telling me he thought you were perfect only last week.”

  I explained I didn’t have the answers, I left them all with him, all I know now is I feel like I am dying.

  We end the call and it’s Christmas Eve, I am emotionally exhausted, all I need is sleep.

  But sleep will evade me as the night plays in my mind, like a sick joke, a soap storyline.

  You’re a strongman but tonight you were weak, once a policeman, yet you left me alone in the street.

  Is it the steroids? Have they messed with your head? All I know now is this will be your regret.

  Taboo

  Have you ever sat with a girl whilst she was drinking and watched her face turn grey? Like she is holding back and there is something she wants to say?

  Her face turns blank, kind of like an empty stare, like she wants to talk but doesn’t dare.

  This story affects men, but it is a girl’s biggest taboo, if you’re lucky she will open up to you.

  It won’t be immediately after, it will take a year or two and she won’t mutter a word until she can trust you.

  Fear of being judged? No, this is something more… having to relive the guilt open up the sores.

  As a girl I have seen this face before, not just once, five times, maybe even more.

  She will tell you her version leading up to the event, trying to justify it and building her defence.

  The pain they’re hiding is full of shame, different story that ends the same.

  At the doctors they don’t help you, tell you it’s your decision, you choose what to do.

  Emotional due to things that are going on inside, now they’re being asked to sign away a life.

  Operation or pill the ending’s still the same… life left tinged with guilt experiencing some pain.

  Sometimes after they speak of feeling relieved yet four years later, they drown in their own grief.

  I’m all for Pro-Choice if it’s the right thing for you, but there should be more stories on this girl’s taboo.

  For in the moment it may seem right, yet all the girls I speak to years on still cry. />
  Abortion or termination the ending is the same, girls left riddled with guilt and carrying shame.

  Voodoo Doll

  Unrequited love is some girl’s favourite sport, if she can’t have you it makes her want you more.

  It is no longer about you, it is now about the game, one she will play without any shame.

  You will be her voodoo doll, that’s the truth of the matter, this game isn’t about you, it is just that she is bitter.

  Choosing to make you her universe is the game that she plays, the damage this will do is at your expense.

  She will say her prayers at night wishing you nothing good, hoping you crumble, and that your life gets messed up.

  If you’re still communicating with her, you’re standing in quicksand, it won’t be long before she starts to play her hand.

  Telling you she is missing you, starting to send you nudes, anything to get her claws back into you.

  Building fake social media profiles, stalking you online, start reaching out to girls claiming, “He is still mine.”

  She will tell you she wants you back and that she has changed, apologise for the times she was acting deranged.

  Playing on the memories you both once shared, she is still a psycho, of that you should be aware.

  She will turn on the charm, try and turn you on. Offering to take you to bed, anything she can do to get back in your head.

  Emotional blackmail is part of her game, the girl you dumped hasn’t really changed.

  She will do anything, trying to change your mind, the lengths she will go to, do not undermine,

  She is erratic and will spiral out of control, she will do anything to regain her hold.

  As time rolls on she uses this as a weapon, gives the game she is playing more ammunition.

  She will tell your new girlfriend, you’ve been together the whole time, making out you’re using her and have done nothing but lie.

  She doesn’t want the best for you, just wants you to herself, go back and your life will be back to a living hell.

  Let this poem be a warning, I have seen this before, if you dump your girlfriend for an ex, you’re a fucking fool.