Shake of the atrocities of a fucked off mind

these are never the thoughts I seek to find.

All eye’s peering and thinking and blinking

and all I wanna do is a little bit of winking. me yours and i’ll show you mine

oh I know, I should wait till i’m drunk on wine!

I’m sorry, I forget the way to talk

and cannot find my thoughts.

If expressive language were a form of communication

then fuck me baby, would cause you elation.

Everything’s changed but the one at the start

and oh god do I know that you are so far.

Thoughts and ideas…take my hand

and show me that I can.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.

and suck



Karen Hayward ©2015 Image via wordpress library

A lullaby of raindrops.

Where sleep goes sleep came
as I slumbered peacefully beneath the drumming rain.
Perhaps, the Angel of sleep took pity,
and played raindrops in a perfect melody.
Or maybe the rain tip tapping,
soothed my soul whilst I was napping.
Either way. I slept so well,
as though the rain,
had me in his spell.

Karen Hayward ©2016