Phone me

 Staring at the phone

Likes it's going to tell me

Something I don't know.

Looking at it for three days straight

Like a lost lover I can't let go.

The message bleep

Dopamine release.

But chasing the glide

Of a the cut from new scissors

It will never last.

The TV plays in the background

As the phone steals

My focus and time.

New diet.

Recipes for your airfrier,

God loves a trier,

The booze loves you

And lures you in.

The need for release

Trying to find peace

For a mind that doesn't stop

And a battle you can't win.

You don't know what to talk about. 

You don't know the rules.

You try to work it out

But it's not them it's you. .

Maybe try and not take things to heart.

Let the past go.

Stop carrying everything.

Because the weight keeps you low.

The day tomorrow, and the joy it brings

 The worse is bringing booze to bed,

Cause the dogs raging.

Seeing the empty bottles

After a night of no sleeping.

I got the recipe wrong.

Not enough booze to shut me down.

No sleep and a runny nose,

I wonder does everyone in work know?

As I can't help another big sniff,

Like a cheer for the night before.

Blowing my nose,

But it doesn't stop it from running more.

Vision blurred

And I could sack it all in

Just for an hour in bed.

At lest I'm not paranoid,

Because the boss is

Always staring at me,

So I know it isn't in my head.

Frozen pizza blues

I've got the frozen pizza blues,

The weekend before payday.

The money doesn't stretch the same way,

Can't afford to go out,

Can't afford to put the heating on.

Extra pair of socks and no shoulder to cry on

Hide

 What you need?

Another half. 

Shits and giggles, 

And everything is fuk it, 

It is a problem I'll deal with tomorrow. 

Trying to feel better. 

Just so much hurt. 

Sure we'll cry about it tomorrow. 

And hide the hurt. 

Monday you

 You're a poet and we all know it.

But fuk me,

I've work tomorrow

And can't be bothered,

To work out

Is this a suicide note,

A poem,

Or a riddle for buried treasure

Or just a woe is me.

Will you be hanging from a tree

Or a message laughing manically?

No chill isn't good on a Monday.

Headlights

Rabbit in your headlights,

Hypnotized by the spotlight, 

Mouth dry and not a clean glass in sight. 

Bank balance in the red, 

And a restful sleep won't be tonight. 

But still something keeps you out. 

Monday will come 

With noise and bright lights. 

Sore back and nose that

Keeps running with no tissue in sight.

And all the time I look like a

Rabbit in your headlights,

Counting down my time

In the spotlight.

Bed is so far,

And my stomach still doesn't feel right.