Insecurities rush, the blind side.

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It claws at me gently as hormones rise,

I know the uncertainty of insecure skies,

When enough, leaves and I see not a thing

Oh how I know what the short rise will bring.

But if nothing is all and all is free,

There’s nothing left for my broken soul, to see.

A blank page and empty space

Expect nothing, leave negative space.

I’m a whisper, a silhouette a bland empty ghost,

So alone I stand and alone I host.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Blood laced razor blades.

The true facts about menstruation:

PMS….pre fuck you! The weeks running up to the event. Your body realising there were no winners in the sperm race decide to celebrate with an influx of hormones. 

Then boom out of nowhere the drummer boy pulls out his razor blades and plays a melody of death upon your ovaries….and the world just keeps on fucking turning as my insides are fucking burning…

And then there’s the blood, a murder scene of mass proportion…I should probably stop writing now if I want anyone to read my stuff again 🙂

Karen Hayward ©2016