Forever in a mess.

When i was young,
And having fun,
I’d pour thick black dye,
Over my golden curls,
That fell to my thigh.
I’d watch it
As it hit,
The side of the bath,
And laugh,
At my messiness.
Later, as it dried,
i’d hear my dad curse,
as he scrubbed at the wall,
And the little black spots,
that wern’t playing ball.
Now, i’m an adult,
With a bottle of red,
and i remember the words that he said,
As i scrub at the walls, the floor and the tiles,
I can’t help, but smile,
My shoulders are red, my arms a delicate design of red vines that spread across my chest,
I’ve never known anyone,
Get in such a bloody mess!

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Welcome to my blog! Here you will find different forms of creative writing, lots of swearing, erotic poetry, random thoughts, beautiful imagery, but most of all you will find a version of truth. My truth, this is the way that I see the world. However, all of my work is a form of creative writing, a combination of truth and fiction. I write to express my creativity, not my needs!

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