Rauhnächte
Light a candle
Light a fire
Ward your home
Ward your spirit
The veil is thin
The worlds collide
Tis time to gather
Need for light
Premonitions
Change
Change
Change
Change
Taiko drum vibrations
With increasing urgency
Staccato
Can you feel it?
Change
Change
Change
Is in the air
On the cusp off
The brink
Change
Change
Fear
Readiness might be lacking
Change
Tangible
Change
Change
Change
Change
Dense premonition
Like moisture laden air
My body hums
It’s coming
A death in the family
Darkness within
Sick mind
Suffering soul
Caring for things that don't matter
While breaking the ones that do
You have been lost for so long
Your self righteousness has become your guiding light
Trapped in delusions and unspoken woes
My grief won't save you
True Colours
@storyfae

Hold your loved ones close. Family doesn’t need to be genetic. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Talk about what matters.
6 Feet Under (don’t read if squirmish)
You are in a hole
6 feet under
I image a worm crawling through your eye socket
It’s all a bit Tim Burton in my head right now
Ashes to ashes my arse
Buffet for the creepy crawlies
More like it
Nurture nature
Fair enough
But you weren’t supposed to
43
That’s no age to just drop dead
Not as in drop dead gorgeous
No just dead
Stop
End
Fin
You were supposed to live forever
Because ending isn’t anything
I can grasp yet
It makes a hollow sound
The end
I walk under water
All is muted
I expect you to just come walking out of the barn
Or drive down the dirt path
It’s just stopped
Your life
But you echo everywhere
The space is still holding you
It hasn’t realised you are gone yet either
It’s not just me
Disembodied steps each night
In mum’s bedroom
Always the same time
I feel you sit on my bed
There is movement
Presence
I heard the steps
But you can’t
Can you?
Be there
I cry until there is nothing left
Tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth
Can’t breathe through my nose
I scream into my pillow
I don’t know where to put
All that pain
The confusion
The anger
So I want to stop too
Just stop
How dare world go on without you
Don’t they know
That it can’t
I can’t
Keep going on being
Holding the weight of the black hole
That was ripped onto my chest
That night
That night when I was away
And laid crying awake
Not knowing why
Until early morning
Mum showed up
To take me back home
Numb
I sit in the back of the car
Not even get to shotgun
There’s a dude there
Your colleague
Mum couldn’t drive alone
I was too far away
She in shock
It makes a hollow sound
The end of childhood
The Inner Child
40 going on 13
Channel the teen
Wolf within
Anger untamed
I know better
You ain’t shit
I don’t do fake
Shove it up
Whereever
Girly girls fake laughs
You’re chaff
Find your spine
Don’t use mine
I don’t eat dirt
Just can’t be arsed
Suddenly nice
After seeing mum’s car
Fuck off
You never noticed my scars
Anger writhes
Angry snake
Pale cliché
Yet it works
Me-being hurts
Just being hurts
And school’s full of turds
When we work with the inner child I don’t think we we work with the teenage self. It’s usually too edgy. What does your inner teen sound like?
Nothing Left After Death
Rigmarole
Are you 60 or 16
Starting an argument
Over a ducking piggy-bank
A piggy-bank!
Looks like a cow.
The piggy bank I mean …
Spiteful biatch
You are so rich
And yet so poor
You won’t know anymore
What’s hit you
In a dark room
All on your own
Only ghosts for company
Your bank statement heavy
In your lap
Empty your soul
Loneliness eating you up
It was a trap
Thinking you could make up
For emptyness within
With owning things
Ain’t working like that girl
The wooden chair
Pulls a run
Hard and cold
The darkness holds
Ain’t working like that girl
Empty house
Cold
Nothing vibrates
Life hides from hates
Ain’t working like that girl
What’s worth what?
What has value?
Ain’t working like that girl
Worth is in a life
That touches others
Value is what you create
Not what things hold
What we learned from being scammed
We need a new fence, it has finally succumbed to the Scottish winter storms. So money saved up. Time to find a fence building company.
Enter interference from dyslexia and ADHD and OH contacted the wrong guy, not the one with the five star reviews, address and phone number on the profile, but one with a similar company name. First contacts were good. Polite, fast to respond all good. So OH didn’t pick up on it.
Asks for money for material, no unusual for small local businesses, there is a lot of fence, hence a lot of material, hence a lot of money, and small businesses cannot always lay out that kind of money. Promise was made to show up on a Monday.
After money was send OH realised it was the wrong guy and had a funny feeling. Monday came round and the excuses started:
- car broken
- This next to funeral is his favourite excuse
- Tuesday and eventually Wednesday came and no material. Chris Martin, Hamilton, Scotland (also goes by Martin Chris, Tam Anderson, The Fence Guy, Fence Man, CM Fencing) seems to be a professional fraudster and con-artist. After the broken car came the:
- family emergency
- family funeral
- according to the countless times he used this excuse he must have
- a: had a massive family and
- b: they are now all dead
- according to the countless times he used this excuse he must have
- mental health issues
- are not an excuse–ever! They can be an explanation but that’s not what he is doing, he uses various issues he may or may not have (I am honestly not buying it, I believe he is a sociopath, after spending time reading his public Facebook posts)
- Also he does not give a dime about anyone else’s mental health and the devastation he is causing
- drug addiction
- he keeps forgetting which one he is allegedly addicted to, according to various people we spoke to: It’s all of them.
- again, it’s not the excuse he thinks it is
- if (and that is a big “IF”) this is true I do hope he gets the help he needs
- effectively he has yet to demonstrate actual remorse: not the grandstanding in public hoping he gets a lesser sentence stuff
- he threatened one of the victims we spoke to that his uncle who works in the police station in Hamilton would become involved because he didn’t like their attitude (we have the screenshot of this conversation)
- They were ‘really cheeky’ and wanted their money back
- And that threat alone is criminal!
- he kept sending taunting text messages to another victim, we have been told basically going: hahaha I got your money
- so much for regrets, and being sorry
- and another tick in my: I believe he is a sociopath box
- he called my OH stupid for having fallen for his con
- again no empathy, no understanding of impact of his actions or wrong doing: sociopath?
- OH has gone public and dozens of people have come forward
- since then Chris Martin (Hamilton, Scotland) has run scared and randomly started putting envelops with cash through people’s letter boxes
- mind you we have to assume that the money he gives to some of his victims is money he conned off someone else
- after all he got over £3000 from OH only a week ago
- Where is all that money gone?
- he also becomes extremely aggressive if you do not play along to his “woe is me I am so poor and have mental health” stick
- at which point he starts calling you names, threatens you, or makes fun of you
- he films himself putting cash into envelops which he is putting in people’s letter boxes! 🤦♀️ (I kid you not, we have the evidence!)
Anyway, here is the problem with the “sending random cash to some of the victims” act (and by no means all of them!). I am translating this into a metaphor since Chris Martin (Hamilton, Scotland) still entirely lacks the understanding that
a: he has done something wrong and
b: how much damage, not just financially he has caused.
So here is the metaphor:
Imagine a random guy intentionally breaks someone’s leg. Then when the victim complaints, random guy goes and knocks over someone who is wearing a leg cast, stealing the cast. Proceeds to take a part (not even all of it) of the leg cast and sticks it onto the broken leg. But that’s not all! No he is filming himself sticking the bit of leg cast onto the leg he intentionally broke and then expects everyone to “aw” and coo and say what a good boy he is.
That’s basically his mindset. Absofuckinglutely no comprehension whatsoever of what he has done, no guilt, no remorse. Nada!
Oh yes of course when he thinks he is in trouble he will do the “woe is me act” and if you still say you want your money back he then gets aggressive and says: I don’t know what you want from me I apologised. (He literally has said that to OH.)
So here is the learning.
- If you have an attention or reading comprehension issue. Ask someone to double check your sources for you! Before you book a company.
- Mind you considering how many wrong orders I place (ADHD Hooray!) probably do this for most significant purchases.
- If a company only has a Facebook page: no address, no phone number, no customer ratings: Avoid. Avoid. Avoid.
- These are basically the new post-box scams.
- If a small business cannot afford to pay for material. Ask them to provide you a quote for material they need, and offer a list of potential suppliers. Then buy the material yourself.
- Do not trust a single supplier source because they could be working together.
- And if then the company turns out to be a scam and no show you at least already have the material and not lost out. (That was our mistake. Too busy to take care of this.)
Con Artist 5: final installment
I am despicable
But I believe to be an eagle amongst pigeons
I am a lying thief
But I believe I am a lion leading
I am a sad excuse for a human being
And I make fun of people who I have conned
If cornered like a street dog
I bite
I squirm
I whine
I say it’s mental health
I say it’s drugs
I say it’s anxiety
I try to pull each card I can think off
To get away with fraud and keep living my dream of being a billionaire
That was the last of the con artist series it’s all with the police now. Statement for court is written. Anxiety attack still there but under control. Back to focussing on positive poetry again. Con Artist Chris Martin, Hamilton
Obsession
Con Artist 4: A free writing exercise
Random purging
Writing into empty space
Words emerge
From a cluster of emotions
Swirling unchecked
Unbounded
Uncontrolled
Churning stomach
Spiralling thoughts
Something still emerges
That resembles sense
Of kind
Somewhere
In there
Is thirst for revenge
Avenger angel is my spirit animal
Flaming sword my weapon
Anxiety creeps up my spine
Like an angry snake
Uncoiling in my stomach
ADHD means extreme sense of justice
And hyper–focus
Add cPTSD get emotional disregulation on steroids
So I make, write, create, draw, punch sandbags, lift iron
He, him, street dog
Flee ridden rat
Not the brightest candle on the birthday cake
Will be snuffed out
Law of attraction
You can also send things
I send back
I walk the ancient path
My gods are not nice
They are fair
Chris Martin, Hamilton, Scotland
Con Artist 3
Gibberish as if drunk
Late night texts
Tail between legs
Scared as fuck
Out of luck
His house has no mirrors
Lest he sees himself
But there are posters of lions
An odd tiger on the shelf
Likes to dream big
Billionaire is his flick
Alas he is lazy
So his plans are hazy
Fraud was an easy path
There are posters, too
Of muscle cars
If only his body knew
What muscles are
—or balls for that matter
But he thinks he is better
Than anyone else
Hence the tiger on shelf
He lives the conman dream
He secretly cackles
However, I know. We will see him in shackles.