I worry you worry we worry worry worry...

My head is like a dandelion gone to seed,

Jura mountain, stony tracks,

Excited children in the back,

Guaranteed to return

Acceptance is so damn difficult

like a sniper in the night

Why would she when each attempt at calculating the odds

Ended in a bout of mindboggling vertigo?

It’s full of air, a giant bloat,

As though I’m pregnant from a ghost.

She wondered whether her story might blow up in her face,

Spattering her skin with the ink of thousands of wasted words.

My teenage years they were formative (Yo!)

Back in Viareggio where I lived.

Say goodbye to unpegged socks and thongs!

Today, she should have chosen absolute silence

Well it's too late baby, well it's too late...

Did my ridiculous greeting keep me safe?

Chameleons playing charades,

Expert wool-pullers

Laden with artfully repurposed baggage.

Today there is no cascading creativity, no giddy keyboard trampolining.

And then he lay me on the bed,

Shoved loads of needles everywhere.

I’m used to it, I hardly flinch,

But OMG today I did!

But then she was exhausted and it wasn’t even 9 am.

Years ago, I locked eyes with a homeless young man on Regent Street in London. I really wanted to help him, but did't. I still think of him. It haunts me. I hope he is ok.

I'm slightly wobbly and the saddle hurts my bum