Photo by Jordan Rowland on Unsplash

When I was a child

As young as could be

I was wild

I was wild as a hot roiling sea.

I got scarred up and stitched up

For in sins I partook

If ever I fucked up

I never showed I was shook.

No Opium or Morphia

But I took them later as well

They cooled all my fear

But that’s another story to tell.

As I leaped like a daemon

At the edge of the flames

I dreamed about semen

My children, their names.

But whenever I was bleeding

After falling from grace

A band-aid stopped the feeling

Of saving arse before face.



Not quite Steve Fisher

Not quite Steve Fisher


Beating down my demons. Husband. Homelessness and mental health advocate. Drug addict but trying hard not to be. Writer, Poet and Photographer. Pseudonym.