Excuse

Back into the haze of tomorrow

as the days drag

their fingernails running down the walls of my mind

I want to sleep

I need to rest

and it’s stupid

it is

stupid to think that the drugs would help

that they would clear the flog that rests over my eyes

how foolish

foolish to think I could ever write

not with the substances swirling

vision going-

I’m not addicted

just alone.

Advertisements

Conversation to be Had

Remember when I said I wanted to be the first ever working-class poet laureate and you just laughed in my face?

It meant nothing

not even the laugh

I just wish it sounded…I don’t know

better

landed better

settled better

it’s all-

I don’t know

it’s just confusing

knowing where I sit with you

and where I don’t

if there’s a seat going spare

if there’s not

and all these questions

they amount to nothing

simply

nothing.

Tiredness in Light

It washes over me

blessing my skin with the first call of morning-

I’m awake

and the day stretches itself out in-front of me

I don’t dare jump in

my laziness shakes me to sleep and I’m-

dreaming of a time when the numbers of the clocks meant nothing

when the first ray of moonlight didn’t mean utter darkness

it’s comforting to know that I’m not buried within this alone

but with who?

Who am I with?

The answer washes over me

as I drift deeper

and deeper

into sleep.

The End Of Two

At this moment

in this space

I’m content

I’m fine

I’m-

I daren’t say happy

because happy

it means something, doesn’t it?

It means more than…

than anything I’ve ever said

it means admitting to-

I’m useless

I’m uncontrollable

I’m-

I daren’t say depressed

I daren’t because it means…

something

nothing

somewhere in the middle

I’m tired of talking

tired of laughing

tired of-

at this moment

in this space

within this time

I’m free

as free as the dust that blows across my page.

I’m sorry it’s so late.

Practical! Imagine

Your eyes stare

straight past my face and over to…

What was it?

What grabbed your attention so desperately you felt the need to run?

I’m tired of asking

the questions hang like the tension around my neck

it’s better not to ask

it’s better to leave the questions as questions

and the answers as…?

Repetition finds me in times of crisis, cradling me in its arms

I repeat

I repeat

I repeat.

Moving Mouths

I can’t do this!

I can’t-

I thought I was speaking aloud

I thought I was screaming

but the space beside me remains silent

consumed by the quiet that stirs between us.

I can’t do this!

And it’s no surprise

it’s-

I thought I’d cope

I thought I’d grow stronger

I thought I’d-

I’m tired

that’s all

that’s all there is to it

all there is to-

this!

I can’t do this

and I could’ve sworn I was speaking aloud

I could’ve sworn I saw their faces change

but perhaps not

perhaps-

shut up and give up

it’s ended.