Please wash your dishes

Wash your dishes
It’s not that hard
You weren’t born in a barn,
or a stable, or a yard.

The sink is too small
to have dishes build up
It’s not that complicated
for you to wash one small cup.

Your flatmates aren’t your servants,
or your keepers, or your mothers,
And those who wash their own things
Needn’t worry about others.

Comments

May: Us

I love the way you laugh out loud The way you make me smile The way you're not afraid to hold my hand, if only for a while I love the way you look at me And the way you always care The way you look me in the eyes And sometimes even stare I love the way you give me hugs That sometimes last forever But think you should believe in yourself more, because you are actually really clever. I love the way you understand me completely, And even though it sounds really cheesy, the way you complete me.

Endings:

I made the decision to leave my university course – and not being able to change courses so late in the year then meant leaving the university and my flat until next year. And this was all damn hard .My life has been full of turbulent change since September, and just when I felt settled again I had to rip it all out from under me . I've been left with debts to pay, had to find a new job, and adjust to being back home. But , things could still be worse . I’ve got my health, a supportive family and even more supportive friends. And I don’t regret one second at university – even with all the flat drama and the course- as there’s still so much I’ve learnt these past couple of months. And sometimes in life you’ve got to weigh up what is most important to you. It was nearly a year ago now that I choose to do this course . It all happened because I was told that I needed to do a degree with an “actual job” at the end of it, not a useless one.I choose a degree that...

How are you?

How are you? Three simple words. Infinite answers. What answer do you wish to hear today? Do you want to hear about my pain, the heaviness, thoughts and fears that I keep? Do you wish to know about my web of secrets and lies that are tearing me apart inside? What about the self-harm or the suicidal thoughts? Do you want to know how alone I feel and how many nights I have cried myself to sleep this week? And do you want to know for you , to help me , or to simply have something to talk about at your next meal? Think carefully. Don’t want to know? No, I didn't think so. So I guess I'm fine thank you, how are you?

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