I come from
A lost home
my psychosis at 16
two years of hell
Dad and mum threw me out
My roots broken
Then Living in hostel
With Creaking fire safe doors
council estate yellow bricks and concrete
Dirty mirky stained glass windows
looking out on the world
Not a church
where I would fashion ideals
But a place I could be at peace and reshape my soul
Even in a place which had a
scent of old burnt out cigarettes
Smokey stained furniture
like an old fashioned bed and breakfast
The kitchen smelt of convenience.
Packs of chicken and beef super noodles
Boiling in a pan.
This is where freedom started
Hope in the darkness
Grey days but sometimes occasional sun
Dance music blaring from my boom box
a CD player in my room
chemical brothers basement jaxx tracks
Paper and pen
Penning poems
finding myself
I still loved a girl called Becky
who didn’t love me
I gave up,drinking as my mental health was suffering
Giving up the poison
for my own piece of mind.