Showing posts with label creativity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creativity. Show all posts

17 September 2025

Good Morning, I'm Home, Goodnight!

When you wrote you name and phone number
On that scrap of brown paper,
Didn’t know I’d be thinking of it,
Over ten years later.
Yes, it is over,
And I accept it.
But that brown piece of paper,
I wish I had kept it.

It held all those memories,
Of a happier time.
Before we were over,
And the times that I cried.
Yes, I’ve moved on,
I’ve found someone new.
But when things get hard,
I’m left thinking of you.

From that brown, paper note,
We had our first date.
After, you asked for hug,
And it all felt like fate.
You said you’d let me know,
Once you arrived home.
I never had to ask,
You’d text from your phone.

Then, from that day,
Everything changed.
You gave me a routine
And it didn’t feel strange.
I was your first thought,
When you opened your eyes;
You always confirmed this,
With your, “Good morning,” surprise.

Then, when you arrived home,
From work or your friends,
You’d text me, “I’m home,”
And the worrying ends.
I was your last thought every evening,
As you turned off your light,
You never forgot
To text me, “Goodnight.”

For five years you text me,
Those five words every day,
Sent with three kisses,
Never a delay.
Even when we took a break,
Those five words, they remained.
It was our silent bond.
Nothing explained.

When we parted ways,
Each other we replaced.
Our new partners continued,
What, between us, had erased.
Ryan said, “Good morning,
I’m home and goodnight,”
I never asked,
Nor did it cause a fight.

A few years passed with dating,
I met quite a few,
But no one had every
Compared close to you.
Then I met Robert,
A man so kind and wise.
He used those five words,
It was no surprise.

Never with Robert,
Or Ryan or you
Was this ever a problem
Nor felt forced to do.
Only when you grew distant
And our love did fade,
Did you start to change,
The five words you betrayed.

I was no longer your first thought,
When you opened your eyes.
You didn’t text me first,
You’d talk to one of the guys.
At some point in your day,
After an hour or two,
It's like you remembered,
What you ought to do.

Your, “Good mornings,” were late,
And your, “I’m home,” too.
You’d speak to anyone else,
While I worried about you.
Then one the evenings
You forgot your, “Goodnight,”
I’d cry myself to sleep,
Couldn’t turn off the light.

I’ve with someone new,
And everything’s fine,
But what was once my normal,
Feels like just yours and mine.
I’ve tried hard to tell him,
Without those five words I ache,
But it feels like being honest,
Was a big mistake.

I don’t want to lose him,
I don’t want it to be through,
But lately every day
Reminds me of losing you.
I’m crying, I’m scared,
I don’t know what to do.
Those five words were so simple
When it was me and you.

 

- Josie -

17 June 2024

The Ballad of AD

(Josie Sayz: This came to me in a dream, while I was heavily medicated, for a migraine. Migraine medication always makes me a little loopy. In my dream, ‘The Manic Street Preachers’ were singing this song. I didn’t remember any of it, when I first woke up. While I was at work, waiting for a 775 page document to print, to take to court, all of the lyrics appeared in my head, as if by magic, and I had the whole piece down in around ten minutes. Oh, and I know that, strictly, this isn’t a ballad, but it’s what the piece wanted to be called – take up the argument with my heavily medicated (at the time) brain.)

Guess who’s got another headache today?
He's popped a pill and then he's on his way.
'Cause god forbid he ever tried to explain
Why that other woman's on his brain.
Rather than think about and process his past,
With Anti-Depressants, he knows the feeling won't last.
Even on his wedding day, when he's got cold feet,
He pops a pill; can't see his future is bleak.

Another Day, Another Dollar,
Just in the world of Allan Dahmer.
He says he's okay, things are fine,
But that's not what's going on in his mind.

Every time he's thinking that he has doubts,
Another Anti-Depressant pill and things will work out.
He never takes the time to contemplate
Why he's anxious and sick of feeling so fake.
Every time he senses something is wrong,
He's made a mistake and that he doesn't belong,
He relies on the Anti-Depressants;
Ignoring feelings from is adolescence.

Another Day, Another Dollar,
Just in the world of Allan Dahmer.
He says he's okay, things are fine,
But that's not what's going on in his mind.

How long until Allan Dahmer opens his eyes
And realises that he's living a lie?
He can't keep pleasing everyone that he meets,
Suppressing hobbies and opinions until he is deceased.
Anti-Depressants aren't the answers you seek.
Despite the weight gain, they are making you weak.
You'll keep hiding for the rest of your life.
I really do feel sorry for your wife.

Another Day, Another Dollar,
Just in the world of Allan Dahmer.
He says he's okay, things are fine,
But that's not what's going on in his mind.

- Josie -

02 December 2023

Caitlyn's Journal

(Josie Sayz: This has been a work of passion of mine for over a year now. I have actually managed to put pen to paper over the past few months. This is part of my ‘Arcturus High’ series, is written from the point-of-view of Caitlyn and takes place between story #2 and #3. I haven’t fully written #2 yet, so it isn’t on here. There are a few big spoilers to things that happen in #2 in this piece. This is written from the point of view of Caitlyn. I can’t draw, but Caitlyn is only 11 years old, so hopefully these pictures will pass as though an 11 year old drew them. I am so happy to have finally finished this little piece. It has brought me a lot of joy.)





































































 

  - Josie -