soft and squishy is my heart 
but I have learnt the dark art
of using a lipstick like a wand
with a layer painted on I become like teflon

I am able to pose to stand strong 
nothing or no one can do me harm 
as I hear the lies amplified to the same song 

“Don’t tell Mum”

yeah don’t tell Mum what we did 
store everything like little secrets
don’t answer when she tries to quiz

yeah don’t tell mum
the phrase extends a metre long
few words laden with such 
heavy meaning 
grooming the eager believers 
ignorant to the subtle grooming 

all evidence of my care 
washed away dispersed
as a big tall effigy reflective of me
burns on their bonfire 
amongst laughter and squeals 

I can’t remember when life became sour 
a drip drip attack had slowly been evolving 
behind my back 

I’m expected to do nothing 
I’m expected to accept the facts made up by those who attack 

the illness that delusion brings
is an all consuming bitter sweet symphony 
but no hypnotic strings 
will make me cave in.