Emma Watkinson

Shopping and lunch date taken for granted Recharge with a coffee and up again for round two I’m pretending my muscles don’t burn I’m pretending my watch isn’t ticking to seizure o’clock I’m dressing for comfort not glamour Fabrics that mould to the sofa when I need to crash out “Let’s go for cocktails or go out for a meal” I’m pretending I’m alert hiding my yawn in my (jersey) sleeve Getting ready exhausts me before the taxi is called A migraine in the distance promising presence before it arrives Heel ache times by twenty for Cinderella brained belles Nights out spoiled by memories of week long recoveries made Eyeliner eyes glaze through eyelash extensions Weighing heavy on lids already worn and strained Dancing for me is a gladiator battle My chosen cloth light as I’m already weighed down Patterns of clothing mixed with bright flashing bulbs Send my brain waves to seizures looking drunken and strange Pyjamas now; not classic shapes and flattering cut What...

What kind of car for my funeral?  As if I'd care about that? I should be shopping for Christmas  not making post mortem plans I’ve discovered I’m mortal before average age I've written farewells to my family  in case my surgery fails 🧠 There's this thing in my head that shouldn’t have grown  It’s caused havoc for years  with the causes unknown 🧠 It's low grade, not fatal  The big C's not in play but a life time of swelling has sent my marbles astray 🧠 When I got diagnosed,  I was gobsmacked and shocked but relieved that they’d found it  before my hinges fell off 🧠 ‘cause I saw Disney and dinosaurs like I’d dropped LSD  But I owed nothing to dealers  I got my visions for free 🧠 I heard voices and noises  but not the comforting kind  as it burrowed inside me  deconstructing my mind 🧠 What could I say to mi kids about this bothersome blob?  They don’t need insensitive words falling out of my gob ‘cause the “T” w...

Mi Arle Fella Johnny Wok was a legend, I called him the ginger Tom Jones There are plenty of stories about his life on the road It started with Lally teaching Johnny Wok to strum but the daft sod joined the army, just before Merseybeat had begun He was a terrible soldier, but great at escape He’d go AWOL routinely to go and Jam with his mates He bragged to his fellow squaddies about The Beatles prior their fame As he’d seen them play in Huyton before the whole world knew their name He ordered their first single from the NAAFI to share this wealth But as the sound crept off the record; Johnny Wok was cringing to himself “Please Please Me?” Like shite thee have Then he joined The Vaqueros, with Lally Stott at the front Then took over as singer after Lally moved on After those days had ended, the Horse Shoe took him on He was the regular in the 70s when he set out on his own That’s when Johnny Hyland was born, his stage name in the clubs Playing solo driven by Charlie, so he was not on hi...

I was slut shamed on Facebook by an old friend from school He was fuming that I don’t share his white fascist views He was aggressive and bitter; he called me snowflake and woke Just because I’m not a tory and a thick racist bloke He mocked me and accused me of dim witted beliefs He's one of those who reckons migrants are employment thieves My fella said shut up, fill your mouth with a gag He replied “do you know that your wife was our school slag?” I deleted and blocked him, but he continued to rant About the times when I let a boy's hands in my pants He exaggerated and said the lads were part of a queue My mate sent me a screenshot of his venomous spew How did he know about that illicit transaction, On the golf course in a bush, 'twas my first outdoor action There wasn’t a queue, maybe one quiet spectator I was hardly a live porn exhibit creator 30 years after this leafy encounter, The lad litters his page with accusatory slander He shared sordid details of rumours he...

I don’t wish to be labelled brave or a source of inspiration, There’s this habit “ableds” have expressing disability deification Bravery comes from choice, not a case of making do. I live dull from day to day the same as folks like you You say that memory must be a mountain and you express your empathy. You say you understand my challenges because you always lose your keys I lost 2006 to 2012, I don’t think that’s the same . With daily embarrassment to feel when I forget a colleagues name They take it personally and hit me with a “what is my value?” probe. It’s not a measurement of our friendship, it’s just my knackered temporal lobe  🤯  🧠

Body in bloom but mind yet to flower Boys looked below an acceptable gaze My body stood out as my teens were awaiting I was mocked by my classmates for premature growth Bra straps were snapped by boys in the corridor Played down by the teachers, as innocent fun I was lonely and tired of the daily invasion but the attention replaced the connections I craved I found contact and company from boys past my year group I was too young to stop it from moving to touch The first one, not chosen saw this rosebud as lonely a card used to gamble his secretive plan He threatened to tell all that I had pursued him as he lay me on ground not designed for embrace The rumours went round as his friends were updated he gave details of actions he took without nod He fuelled judgement on girls who age without option ‘though our thoughts were in line with those yet to bud