Blood, Sweat & Future Peers – By @saphire_rose

By Saphire Favell

Blood, Sweat & Future Peers

We start in less than a month. I still haven’t finished ‘Your Memory’ and I’m starting to get a bit twitchy. Nerves.The rain is pouring. I haven’t been to the gym in weeks and today is both of my ex boyfriends birthdays so I made a group chat and sent them a Happy birthday Gif. Luckily we’re all on good terms or I’d have sent them the paperwork for an injunction too.Funny. As a kid I thought I’d be a millionaire by now – 26 sounded ancient then. Instead, this time last year, I was literally googling how much money you can earn selling used pants on craigslist and the monetary benefits of a sugar daddy. (FYI – not worth it). Luckily some guardian angel must have taken pity on me and, low and behold, I’ve now sold my soul to Marc (willingly) rather than my pants to some random sod online.I’m fortunate to say I feel like I’ve found my calling in life even though it took a few hurdles to get here.I probably sound mental. I’m not. Not yet. Not until the deadlines draw closer anyway.I literally have no idea what I’m rambling on about. I’ve had no sleep. So here is some spoken word I wrote last night which will hopefully bring the word count to 500.Blood, sweat and future peers. the emails, rules and tasksare starting to come through thick and fastand in my throat I’m starting to get that familiar feelinglike I’m screamingbut my lips are sealedan internal battlefielda hair ball of anxiety I can’t quite retchas I’m trying to savour the last few weeks of this comfortable homestretchbut in three weeks’ timethe doors to the divinewill open for us to star in our very own pantomimemarc: the ring leaderthe school teacherthe church preacherand, at times, inevitably the grim reaperwill take us on a journey through doom and gloomwe’ll pray for help from the pews of the school class roomI’ll cry several tears in the girls bathroomuntil, one day, the storm will clearand the fear will disappearand what he’d have preached for the past yearwill sound like music to our earsand finallywe will bloomlike flowers from a tombrebornbut with thornsand dancing leavesand roots strong enough to crack through the sweet concretedeep into the earth beneath our feetfor we are all fruits from the same treeready to brazenlyleave footprints for all to seein three weeks’ timethe doors to the divinewill open for us to sow the seeds of life