Hope doesn't live here anymore

Gemma said that hope doesn’t live here anymore,

It was after the 4^th time she failed her math GCSE and thought:

What’s the point in trying in life? When a grade only defies who I become?

And it was at the moment where I decided I would never pave a failing route for anyone,

Choosing the pathway into teaching wasn’t easy, there’s so many aspects of the education system I wish weren’t set in stone,

I wish not all head teachers invested their daily lives creating institutions bleeding masses of educational clones,

I’ve honestly spent my entire time at university miserable,

I find the lecturers are as bad as the system and everyone is more interested in shaping the population to become industrial,

So how much can an individual like me do to make change? When the leaders just don’t want to know me?

Head of programs not being able to understand the true reason why the majority flee,

From a world where creativity is not invested in or taught alongside the national curriculum,

The amount of stress forced onto rolling out pass percentages are fucking ridiculous,

Setting students who struggle up to follow the low achieving trail,

Labeling them from day one, now wondering why on earth they fail?

Results day forever looming and one grade sets you up to fall,

And if you don’t gain over a D, you’re pushed off the pedestal.

The racist brown girl

Fatima said that she doesn’t like this country,

And when I told her to go back to her own she said I was being racist,

I couldn’t understand it, because I was brown,

We were similar in every-way; we just came from different towns,

Yet we both ended up here, in the same place and classroom,

2 Asian girls fighting to the finish, leaving no room for war wounds,

Because one of us were going to win, and I wasn’t backing down,

If you don’t like this country Fatima, go back to your own town

And she repeated it again “you are a racist”

I think you need to check the dictionary girl, because you clearly don’t know the meaning of it,

I couldn’t understand how England seemed worse than where she was from,

I couldn’t understand why pointing that out meant I should be shunned upon.

“You think you’re white” she said, spitting the words as she snared,

To be honest, I didn’t really take it as an insult, nor did I care,

Fuck You

You told me to suck your balls once.

You were angry.

So was I.

Fuck you.

4 leave clover

I spent an entire evening searching.

Not just jobs but apprenticeships and post-graduate degrees too.

I shouldn’t have to do things like that, but I do.

4 leaf clovers are a bitch to find, and so are women like me.

I sometimes get an inkling; you like to take me for granted.

Cats

One of the cats got into the kitchen cupboard today, there were torn up packets everywhere.

A baked bean can bleeding tomato sauce, and all I could wonder was “how sharp are her claws?”

Do you think they know when they’re being bad? I bet my two do,

The little one is called molly, the older one bella and she is the secret rebel out of those two.

The Masochist

Our love fits the exact image of toasted bread. I’m always the side smeared in butter, dropped onto dirty kitchen floors, whilst you balance untouched.

I feel I can shout enough to fill a lifetime of pointless arguments, but you’ll still refuse to wave the white flag.

Picking scabs of self-doubt from every inch of my body, you are a mirror only reflecting my bad traits.

I’ve never cried so much than I have this past year,

And every day I lose another gallon.

I wish you loved me enough to stop the pain.

I wish the site of me so hurt, would stop you ever being the cause again.

I miss yet another bus for you and I come to the conclusion that I’m a masochist.

You could do anything to harm me, knowing nothing was harsh enough to battle forgiveness.

There are moments, where I wonder, what’s the fun in being with someone you hate so much?

Why don’t you just leave me? Find someone else who actually enjoys this sort of twisted fun.

I tore out my heart for you, fed it to you on a silver platter. Drowning myself in so much depression, I bleed teardrops until I choke.

I wish you would stop caring so much about your self-image, I wish you cared enough about me to know:

When you put others before me, it hurts. When you disrespect my existence and efforts, it hurts. When you put yourself first and I hurl in front of anything for you, it hurts. 

I wish you would be my hero; one girl in this world has to be worthy enough to be saved.

Even just one time, but you’d leave me, gasping for my last breath.

The site of me tipping off the edge would never make you flinch.

And it’s such a shame you would choose anyone over me.

When I spend eternity, doing anything and everything to keep you safe and happy.