When I first started this blog… wait I cant call it a blog, it isn’t one, its a place to lay me. Its a place to let just some of me out. Its my place, I dont have to be anybody or please anybody. There are precisely 2 email followers that actually know me IRL no one else does, I’ve always wanted it that way… a place for me. A place I can Litter with my emotions. A place I dont have to be strong and confident and whatever other mask I have to wear… here I can break if I want to…  anyway, when I first started this? There was one rule. Be real, be me. So over the years? I’ve grown. I’ve learnt about myself. I have come to terms with the fact I am emotionally damaged, that im never going to be able to fix that. That I have nightmares and beg in my sleep(quite a few witnesses to this), that I sleep walk and sleep talk. I’ve become friends with the demons that reside inside of me, that constantly want to envelope me in the safety of their embrace and pull me so far into the gray that I step off the ledge into the abyss. This IS me.
    Anyway… I never posted yesterday, make up for it with 2 today? Okay one is written completely for someone else and this one for me.  The last few days I’ve been quieter than usual. I feel the storm. I feel the invitation of the envelope of an icy cold hug from my demons. Its so tempting to give in and just step off. But instead here I am writing about it. I’m not ashamed to admit I have depression, ok I’m ashamed to admit its root cause. But if you had the seriously fucked up traumatic childhood I did? You’d be ashamed to. Ugh… sigh… so here I am… trying to let out some of the… hmmm? I dont know what? Just let some of me out. This here? These letters? They can be the tears of frustration im point blank refusing to let my eyes leak. “Crying gets you punished.” “Good girls dont cry. They smile.” Funny how things said to you as a kid stick. Takes a lot for an actual person to make me cry. There’s a few that can do it. But I can be absolutely breaking inside and wishing I wasn’t breathing and all you’d ever see is my smile, all you’ll hear is my happy girly laugh. What’s that word? Eccedentesiast… I should have that tattooed onto my body. Anyone know a tattooist in the UK?!
    I’ve lost half the words I wanted to write on here where my brain has moved on to quickly and I’ve struggled to catch the words. I dont even know where this post is going other than its me spilled across the keyboard and splattering on the screen to run down it. Maybe I should grab a cloth and the bleach?
    I zoned out there looking at the tattoo that goes from my wrist to my inner elbow, I really need one for the other side. At the moment all I have is the idea. The one I’ve got started as an idea and changed into what I wanted by the talented artist that drew it. I’m blabbering… where was I? Hmmmm? I haven’t a clue…
    Are you still here? Gosh! You really are! And there are no poems in sight! You came for the poems and got me instead. Sorry. I dont even have a story 😞 i kinda feel I let you down. Apologies. The music is playing in my ears and I cant tell you any of the songs that have played forthe last hour as my brain has decided to latch its self onto the very first song and stay there…
So now? Heres a song for you…
Dishwalla “Every Little Thing”

🎶…I wish I could be every little thing you wanted, all the time…🎶

I wish I could be
your dream come true,
Conform to whats needed
be everything for you,
But my smile
its painted,
This body mind soul
all tainted,
I refuse to be tamed
far to wild,
Im an ancient soft soul
with the heart of a child,
Dont touch me
I’ll break…

Ahhhhhh…! I give up… words aren’t my friend today… growl…
Is it bed time yet? I’m so tired…x.