I grew up where doors locked louder than love, Where “care” was a word they never lived up to. No mum to call, no dad to run to, Just corridors echoing behave or we’ll hurt you. I learned early—don’t cry, don’t speak, Silence keeps you breathing, weakness gets you beat. Hands meant to guide b

Britain’s breaking while they argue loud, Borders chaos, leaders lost in crowds. Money flying, services dead, Cuts hit the poor while they nod their heads. No plan, no spine, just scripted lies, Divide the streets so the truth can hide. This ain’t hate — it’s fury at power, A country sold of

The phone call kills me before the words do. My body knows before my brain catches up. There has been an incedent that's all I know. As my world stops and a different world begins to grow. No screaming no shouting no tears just a hole so deep I can’t see the floor. My arms ach

The knock came halfway through an English lesson. Pens paused mid-sentence. The teacher said my name like it already belonged to someone else. Two uniforms at the door. No explanation that made any sense to a thirteen-year-old. Just stand up, bring your bag, you know why as the classroo

I was raised by rotas, not love. By keys on belts and names read off clipboards. Homes weren’t homes — they were shifts. Temporary adults. Permanent exits. Everything I owned fit in a bin bag. Black plastic. Ripped handles. Damp clothes and no history. No roots.