…what new hell this is
All of our own creation!
Others see heaven.
I hate washing up!
And scrub and hate, hate and scrub
Nothing’s broken, yet…
You sometimes look like
You know what the point is; I
Wish you could tell us.
Can’t help feeling I’d
Be better off without me
But not you, baby.
Your mum’s heart closed with
You inside; until it stops
There you are, baby.
We gave up on us
Months ago but never will
We give up on you.
My first steps today
Pick you up and wonder what
My first words will be…
2015-2016
The Normal Grown-Up 