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Perfectionistic Poetry
The running theme in my Poetry is perfectionism,Am I using it as a crutch to double Dutch on such sealing and appealing dreams? Am I to be seen as this immaculate collection infecting those who hang around me, viewing it as an aspiring level as opposed to the disheveled take they wanna break free from?…
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OCD Ya
Revelling in the levelling up, I move another cup to abbreviate after I meditate. Exposure therapy worked for a while but in order (scuse the pun) to alleviate my panic stricken compulsion, emulsion strategy times ten to induce a zen state of mind, from within I must find. I breathe, I surrender to the mess,…
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Hetty the Hoover
I miss Dear Hetty the Hoover, Small in stature but what a Mover, The way she lifted and sifted as she swayed from left to right and rotated on the spot to keep the dirt in sight, I could never work out if she was Henry’s Wife or a Sister from another Mister but whatever…
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Me and My Vacuum
Due to my OCD, I’ve given up on putting my Vacuum away, a little hoover here and there keeps the decay at bay, Shift shaping into a 1940’s Housewife, being pristine and clean is the bane of my life, Looking to the Dirt Lifting Machine as a way to evoke and keep painful memories alive,…
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Swapped my Boyfriends for a Vaccum
Swapped my Boyfriends for a Vaccum since giving up Men for Lent, my Vaccum sucks up the naughty notions “I’m spent”, Using its phallic aesthetics to replace the magnetic yet pathetic ploy to destroy another boy in the bedroom, I loom over the handle and grasp the task in hand, Dancing with my Hoover as…
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