Gracey Newman Poems

You are the overdose in a room full of addicts.
You are the blade slicing threw sheep''s skin.
You are the bullet that fly''s out of the barrel of a gun.
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I wake up not knowing who I am.
waiting for my mother to leave so I can go looking through her wardrobe to find something in a size 12. Was this only made for girls?

My dad took me to see a phycologist. They called it a phase and said I wasnt a real man.
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Who is the Idiot?
Who is wise one?
Working class or king?
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You realize you are alone.
Thats when you realize it becomes easier to hurt someone.
You realize there is no one to comfort you.
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Inside a box; springs and hair.
Inside a box; another jack-in-the-box wreck.
Inside a box; 10 by 10, I''m suffocating.
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With your hands hid behind your back. You turn from what you said.
as its all speculation, that''s what you said, well your a monster and you do not represent my views, as a young white British child. You are dead to me.

BNP?
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On the edge of the lost.
In Vegas, In vegas I drink too much.
Like the rest I sip and fall.
I stand up close and personal,
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Innocent little child
with big dreams ahead
she would have done well
but it seemed no one cared.
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I was ready for anything that night.
you look at me, I feel everything
you can feel it too. Tension.
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I fell for the comfort of your words, to find my heart there - still broken.
You promised you would mend it, but here I lye still waiting.
I imagine your tattooed arms embrace my crimson coloured heart.
Instead you strangle me, till my veins run dry, till the last breath I take, till I die.
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