Monthly Archives: September 2013

to wake…

to wake
on a cold september morning
and see the sunshine
stream through the
cracks
in the curtains
after a night
where the thunder
thrashed the skies and
the rain lashed the earth
and the lightning
scribbled flashes of
hot anger
onto the cold, grey canvas
of a dark night

is what it means
to live.


late on a saturday evening.

you called me
late
on a saturday evening

out of the
blue.

you’d caught me
unawares;
i hadn’t been expecting
you.

to hear you speak
was like
unearthing roman coinage
in my back yard.

so precious
amongst the ordinary
amongst the fabric
of my own life

for it to stroll back
in, swaggering slightly
knocked me for
six.

this “thing” we had
was made of bricks
once
but now
it’s just a pane of glass.

you never told me what
you wanted to ask.


me.

i have this condition.

i never speak to my
exes
for fear that I may
fall
into a chasm of regret

i eat jam
from a spoon.

i stream shows
late into the
night
whilst smoking
alone

i set up
businesses that
inevitably
fail.

i avoid the
front row
and i avoid
those who know
me

i like
rocky 3.

i sleep with your
photograph
within arm’s reach
because
something within me
says that
if i can touch it
then you never really
left.

i keep your
ashes
in my handbag
in a coffee
jar.

i fall for all
the wrong
men

and when

they leave
i blame myself.

i don’t look
into the mirror
and see
a friendly
face

in case
you were
wondering

i go to his
place
and leave bits of me
there

so he doesn’t
forget
me

because one day
i know he will
leave me
too

and if he has
my book of
poetry

then one day
long
in the
future

the words
may make him
change
his
mind