my week in haiku

 

 

can’t imagine a

face, too tired, masturbate with

a ‘vague male presence’

 

it’s fine to use a

bag of crisps as a pillow

look I’m fine ok

 

the band is playing

a song but all I hear is

‘I have a penis’

 

dream I am pregnant

again and I drown the baby

in the sink again

 

can’t tell if it’s poor

punctuation or dirt on

the computer screen?

 

clouds often look like

cellulite, god’s mammoth white

arse suffocates me

 

how to get the man

to touch me when I don’t want

to talk to the man?

 

3am open

the fridge and think ‘who the fuck

buys this much salad’

 

he touched my hand while

giving me change, imagine

spooning for ~3hrs

 

heat forces grime through

pores, we sweat like kids making

play-doh spaghetti

 

walk away through trees

that are Nintendo green, turn

smile and wave at me

 

she said to me once

the ones that matter, count them

on one hand, not two

 

count the syllables

on two hands, but people, those

who matter are few

 

 

Holly is usually confused, embarrassed or lost. She can be found at hisemonger.tumblr.com and twitter.com/Hisemonger