Well, look at me, I’m grinning again,
After love went bad and life went bent.
Long term relationship, long fucking fall,
Years in a home that stopped feeling like mine at all.
So the flat cap’s back upon my head,
That part of me I thought was dead.
It’s only cloth, but it means more than that,
It says I’m still here, stubborn old twat.
I’m chasing gains with raw iron will,
Because lifting weight is my medical pill.
No sedatives dragging me under the sheets,
Just plates on a bar and blood in my cheeks.
That numb little ghost can fuck off and leave,
I’ve spent enough years forgetting to breathe.
I’m powered by anger, caffeine and spite,
Still dragging myself through another long night.
But my head feels clearer, even when it’s loud,
I’m finding myself underneath that cloud.
Life isn’t perfect, it’s still taking the piss,
But somehow it’s better than living like this.
One door slammed shut, proper final goodbye,
I stood there broken, but fuck it, I tried.
Then looked at the walls and thought, this is mine,
No asking permission, no walking a line.
Red for the fire I’ve carried for years,
Cream for the calm after shouting and tears.
Green for the growth, the fresh fucking start,
Painting this home while repainting my heart.
At 3am, when my brain won’t sleep,
It makes little promises I’m trying to keep.
A proper bedroom, just for me,
First one I’ve had since 2018.
No makeshift couch.
No borrowed space.
No shrinking myself to keep someone’s place.
Four walls around me, a door I can close,
A bed that is mine and nobody knows
how much that means
unless they’ve lived half a life
feeling like a guest in their own bloody nights.
There’s a spare room ready when my girl gets leave,
A place full of love she can always receive.
My other two kids know the same bloody truth,
Dad’s door stays open, from old age to youth.
This cloud isn’t grey, it’s edged up with gold,
Not some fake happy story politely retold.
It’s messy. It hurt. I’m still carrying bits,
But I’m building a life that actually fits.
So here’s to me and my three brilliant kids,
To surviving the ending and all that it did.
Next year will be mega, I meant what I said.
Still moving forward,
still slightly fucked,
still proudly flat capped,
and not fucking dead.