Emma Watkinson

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

How the hell did this happen, This really quick increase in girth? My boobs have gone huge and my stomach has swelled I look like I’m about to give birth * My stretch marks have got their own stretch marks My arse is obscuring the sun Another few months of me eating like this Will have me weighing in close to a ton * My friends say I’m curvy and gorgeous My husband says, there’s more to love But I pant when I walk, and sometimes when I talk My lungs are now ready to pop * My thighs have been rubbing together My hair line is sweaty and lank Coz I can’t walk a mile without a need to perspire It’s my gluttonous ways I should thank * People ask if I favour a sweet tooth, or am I driven by savoury scoff I don’t have enough teeth to count the flavours I crave Just slap it down there in a trough * I don’t think fat makes me ugly I’ve still got the same smile and eyes But that won’t last long if clog up my heart With cholesterol saturated pies * I get ...

He didn’t ask me to come and see some puppies He didn’t tempt me with a bag of penny sweets He just acknowledged when self-hatred grew inside me, He flattered me and wore me down to make my innocence retreat * He didn’t threaten or forcefully make me do things At first he asked me round; just to watch TV This led to mechanically complying to his really fucked up needs, I let him pull apart the dignity in me * I returned to him with no coercion I would stroll as if just calling ‘round for tea I kept it as secret coz I knew that mum would never understand why let him do such sickening things to me * He made me feel like I was wanted The touching was bill I had to pay You see my company was never something other people tried to win, so I returned to him because he'd would let me stay * He asked me if my friend would come and join him his desire had left so he was reaching out for change He asked me to recruit her as she was prettier than me My plain looks were no longer what he craved...

“Go back to where you come from, ‘cause we haven’t got the room!” Well if “they” should, so should you ye tit,  I see no ancient Britons in my view We’re stood in Liverpool you gobshite, once the gateway to the world We welcomed travellers from lands afar, and shipped slaves to yield our wealth Half of us are Irish bred, from the Emerald Isle they fled Famine caused by England stealing spuds and wheat and seeds for bread That migration caused hostility, and they were accused of stealing jobs Then we focused on opposing sides of Catholics versus “proddy dogs” We did the same shit during Windrush, and put signs in window panes Aligning dogs savaging for scraps with nationality and race Now we criticise all non-Christians for the actions of a few We forget our country’s religious terror past in this blinkered point of view “But they’re terrorists and rapists, they’re all abusing little girls” Check statistics mate, you’ll see all faiths and races share that world ...

I dream of doing yoga But I worry I may fart My downward dog emitting A shame inducing parp I’d love to do Pilates But I’m terrified I’ll boff If I relax so much my bowels relax And set a gas explosion off I have attempted meditation But my efforts hit a bump When my mouth let out an “ohm” my arse let out a massive trump I aspire to find tranquillity Peace and calmness from within But I know that silence would be ruined  By me loudly breaking wind

You are a plaster on an arse wipe finger and you smell just like a public bog you're a hairbrush that a dog has pissed on You smell like an incontinent dog Your voice is like a scratched up record nails scraping down a school chalkboard your house smells like a split side bin bag or smeared roadkill that spent 2 weeks on the floor Your touch is like a warm raw chicken fillet a week older than its use by date your breath smells like a salvaged dog end mixed with strongbow and a jar of princess salmon paste You’ve got rancid sour milk smelling armpits with blackheads on your shoulder blades you’ve got love bites on your pustuled neck line How does a meff like you ever get laid? Your jeans have smudged up greasy knee caps I bet there’s skid marks on your well worn draws dried to flower potting standard clay stains You’ve got a limp caused by abrasion  from your shit stained baggy smalls Brush your teeth with some sulphuric acid and wipe your nose to clear your crusty upper lip ch...