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Skint & Demoralised -Amores Perros [2013]
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Skint & Demoralised -Amores Perros [2013]

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infinite love tonight for this word punk poetry….

There’s a famous quote by Billy Bremner that says,
“Every time Leeds concede a goal,
I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the heart”
Now you don’t need to have stepped much further than your own front door to know what the man was talking about
And you don’t really need to be a football fan either
This is when you’re nothing but a vessel
and nothing in existence compares to that one thing that holds you hostage
I leave my hotel room at eight in the morning
Hand my key into reception
The thought of a fried breakfast makes my stomach turn
So I order a nice cold pint of lager instead
I sup it in silence; that fat fuck Eamonn Holmes on the TV behind us, punctuating the awkwardness between me and the barmaid
She looks startled and uneasy; not wanting to leave the bar for fear of what I might do behind her watchful eye
But she needn’t bother; I’m no danger to anyone besides my own sorry self…
I step outside and light a cigarette
First shielding the flame from the hint of a sea breeze
And then shielding my eyes from the early morning sun
I walk up South Parade towards Fitzgeralds
I catch a flashing glance from the old boy who sits outside
He looks right at home there with his pint of ale and his morning paper
But his eyes look lost
As if he’s waiting for something, and yet he knows it’ll never happen
He’s got a Newcastle United badge on his coat
So he probably isn’t too far wrong
I type out a text and delete it, stood opposite the York House Hotel
I try calling and don’t get an answer, but that’s probably just as well
She told me about him last night, but not of her own volition
And the thing that winds me up is that I didn’t feel a hint of suspicion
On those nights we spent alone, we were the only two alive; 
in this sunless hole, this paradise, and with only love to survive
I remember the first thing she told me as we both gazed out to sea
“They’re all just Nymphs & Thugs”
Well what the fuck does make me?
I climb aboard the 308 and buy a single ticket
My head rests against the window, which gently vibrates
Waves crash against the slim Northumbrian coast in the distance
Seagulls float around gracefully in ravenous packs
She didn’t tell me his name; she didn’t have to
That doesn’t bother me in the slightest
His very existence is my moistened Adam’s apple; 
The saliva in my throat that’s ready to wretch at any given moment
I think of all those nights when she told me that she was crippled by her loneliness
And that she felt suffocated and buried alive whenever she contemplated her future
When she told me how scared she was
And how nobody would even notice if she necked a bottle of Bombay
Leaping from the Pier, never to be seen again
And all the while I believed her, and Christ, I even cried for her
And all the while she’s been texting me
And then not answering her phone because he’s fucking her in her Mum’s box bedroom
And then texting me back once he’s fallen asleep
Telling me that her phone slipped under the cushion whilst she was watching TV
Or that she’d left it upstairs and not realised
Or there was no signal in the pub when she was out with the girls…
They’re the words that she used to describe them
Every single man she’s ever met
“They’re all just Nymphs & Thugs; 
You’re the only decent one I’ve seen yet”
Yeah, well that was then, but now I know the truth
Now I know about him; the other man
The man who holds her
Keeps her stowed away in this soulless shithole
And now I’m on my way to win her back
I get off at the Bus Station on Bridge Street
I cut along Union Street to get to Plessey Road
I walk alongside Croft Park where the Spartans play
Past the clubhouse and through the back alley leading to Cypress Gardens
I turn left onto Princess Louise Road 
And then straight across the big green roundabout at Broadway Circle
“They’re all just Nymphs & Thugs”
I walk past the broken cash machine
And then further down Princess Louise Road
I turn left onto Newsham Road
This is where I start to feel sick
My heart begins to palpitate; I find it hard to breathe
I light another fag
A lengthy queue at the bus stop scowls and observes; 
Confused and concerned, disgusted but reserved
Fearful maybe; but they needn’t bother
I’m no danger to anyone besides my own sorry self…
“They’re all just Nymphs & Thugs”
I reach the Co-Op on the corner of Southend Avenue
I try calling her again; no answer
I send her a text telling her to expect a knock on the door
My throat wretches, and as I double-over
I leave nothing but beer and bile in the bin
I loiter outside the Co-Op and then turn left onto Wordsworth Avenue
I decide to take the long way around. I check my phone but no response
Wordsworth Avenue becomes Shelley Crescent
I follow the curve around the green, and then I’m stood on Byron Avenue
This is where she lays her head at night
This is where she cries and this is where she dreams
This is where he holds her close
And this is where she’s used me as a Councillor and a Therapist
Always there at the end of the line
Just to make her feel a bit better about herself
And whilst I’d been building us a future
This is where she dwelled on nothing but the past
She told me that she was scared of the future
But I knew I was gonna make it better
It was outside that clubhouse when I thought I’d stolen her away; 
Beside the lamppost and the bushes, safe from all the disarray
And I told her:
“It’s never enough for me just to know you’re nearby”
But her shoulders were hunched; she couldn’t look me in the eye
This was tension that she carried; not the usual mystique
And then her lips became a blade; and the beautiful was bleak
And that’s when it hit me
That feeling that Billy talked about
That sickening sense of loss
That despair that just leaves you feeling redundant
And now I stand here, outside her house, all alone
And I’ve never felt so alone in my life
And I can’t help but thinking
Maybe she’s lying; maybe she’s just scared that I’ll fall short
and that she’ll end up even worse than she was before
Maybe she’s just shacked-up for a fortnight with a local loser
Hoping it’ll scare me off and leave her alone for good
Her curtains twitch, and then her cool, cold face emerges
Hers is a radiance that makes you forget yourself in an instant
She stands there like a porcelain statue
From here she looks breathtakingly beautiful
But up close, she’s riddled with cracks
Her front door flies open, and he’s frog-marching towards
“They’re all just Nymphs & Thugs,” and these girls are their rewards
I use every muscle in my body, to stay here standing still; 
One half is petrified, one half’s inclined to kill
He measures me and sneers; and it’s almost like he’s pouting
She’s still inside her bedroom; crying now and shouting
The neighbours ponder my demise or ITV
And then he breaks my nose like you might make a cup of tea
And as he beats me, I fall towards the floor
I kiss this bed of concrete, lie begging him for more
This sends a wave of rage towards his Neanderthalic brain
But for his woman that waits above? This is a fraction of the pain
He finally stops; he spits and takes a breath
He leaves me here defeated; an inch away from death
He walks inside, and I just crawl towards the curb
like a dying dog; I’m graceful, not wishing to disturb
I wait for her to come down and help me lick my wounds
But there’s an eerie silence, and that tells me everything I need to know
Well he’s just given her a damn good reason to be scared
And who knows, maybe she does want to come down and see me, but she can’t
Maybe he’d raise a fist to her as well
But then again, she could’ve told me sooner;
She could’ve prevented this
I guess love’s a pretty terrifying burden
And by Christ it doesn’t half fuck around with your brain
“It’s time to take the bit between the teeth,”
That’s what I told myself all along
Yeah, well more fool me for going where I wasn’t wanted
I hope she’s rife with guilt; and lying crippled on her floor
I hope she dies of shame after fighting a fifty year war
But as I drip blood in the gutter, it’s too late to pretend
That in this world of Nymphs & Thugs, I’ll love her till the end
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