I Don’t Care Cos They Don’t

The quicker you learn

No one gives a fuck about you

The better your life will be.

Sounds funny, dunnit? I know.

But I learnt recently

That the more pressure you put on those

Who don’t pick up on your frequencies

The more free you are to love them

At the capacity 

They can receive and reciprocate;

It will be loving properly.

Because it’s selfish

To demand others love like you do.

They don’t owe you mimic or pantomime

Or touch that only replicates

When it’s organic it don’t matter if 

It’s early when you come late.

I’m intense too –

I can so get lost in others and break

When I don’t feel my weight upheld by my mates

And I just emaciate on past dates of divine match made

When you realise no one cares,

You stop.

You pop the locks off your dusty left chest’s box

And rock the socks off your lineage of sheltered selves

You delve into the liberation of finding heaven in your hells

And as you enter the heat, my advice to thee, is to just melt.

Don’t wait till it’s too late.

If you initiate the behaviour you wish to live by

On the first try then you don’t have to imitate 

Confidence on the next few:

Get on stage and sweat buckets,

Jump into the pit and kick fuckwits, 

Strut down the street like you own it,

And if you got a fancy, just phone it.

If you wait till the end of the song to dance

You’ve missed your chance to let loose

Instead you prance on the wobble of the wiggling stance

And feel like everyone in the audience

Is looking at your back

Wondering ‘what is that?’

When in reality they’re looking over your head

And once their back home, in bed

You don’t get thought about once

Don’t be so worried about the things you said

In that silly moment you were worried what to do next

And spurted some shit from the pits of your head

Because it was either that or awkward silence instead 

No one fucking remembers, darling 

You’re the least of their worries

I know your own come in flurries, slopping about your brain

Like your belly after curry

But you should focus more on the hurry to forget

Rather than the duty to mend

Don’t lend yourself out for no one

That wouldn’t spend themselves to get you

But don’t only expect knee scraping begs, bouquets, cut wrists and poems bled

Don’t think they need to want to die for you

Because if it’s suicidal then it’s hate

Not for you, but for their own

If they think love’s shown only in extremity 

And moan when it’s gentle claiming empty

Then, again, don’t concern yourself for their care

If it was there it would be evident and clear

Don’t worry if they get you

You wouldn’t even deep it if they really did

Never let them take you down from the shit to just skid

Go out there Man, make me proud

Sing loud at your gigs and let your heart vibrate with the speaker’s sound

Ground your feet in the earth before you get jumping

And never be ashamed of what gets your heart pumping

Or your throat lumping

I cry at every film, even the silly ones

And I’m a boring Cunt, I find reading fun

So I’ll say it again, incase you missed it, here’s a rerun:





By Lyric Deep.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s