I slipped down the stairs Banging my arse Banging my arse Banging my arse extremely hard
I wonder of the last meaningful word I’ll utter, mutter, perhaps merely think of, for that matter, if I have lost the desire or ability to speak. As a baby, I know for sure, repetition formed my world. Habits grew. The least most era, spiked around my teens. But since then, an ever decreasing and…… Continue reading i repeat myself
Sitting northwards of the jet-stream,
Great Britain took the rainfall,
Normally divided up between all of Europe’s lands.
The fit of the digit was snug, way better than any one of my own.
A mix of runners, walkers, lovers & friends.
Couples seated on benches, in quiet conversation.
The murmuring of the audience increased in volume as he spat out formulaic provocations.
Not in all my life, have I made such a mess. (read more)