"In the North Dublin suburbs, familial and interpersonal pressures resonate not just through domestic, social and communal lives; but also through generations. “But I Married Your Ma Instead” looks at how the regularity and painful dissolution of marriage and family life is ingrained in every function of working class existence."
Here is what I know: You drink your coffee black and we are afraid of each other. Once you kissed my neck in front of your friends and it made me very shy. Once you kissed my stomach and I started crying. I see the tender way you touch things and want to kiss your nose but I keep my mouth to myself. Your collarbones are craters big enough to fit my fist into. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in months. I was not good to the last person I loved so I punished my heart (I let it break and bleed out then roughly sewed it back together.) It is hard to write poems when I only know how to fuck you. I am always trying. I am thinking of Somedays. I am saying goodbye. You asked why I never write anything honest so I am writing you this.
my brother came to visit a few weeks ago so every morning we went to the caf down the street from my flat. i wish i could go back to being a kid when i would sit on my ma’s silver mini and watch him skate crates infront of our house.