Untitled – 2016

I felt like writing to you,

but deafened the urge.

So now I sit in loneliness

awaiting your call.

 

I can’t remember your voice,

but you must’ve sound like

an angel,

because the haloesque vision of you

can’t seem to dim.

 

You’re the drug I want to kick off

on.

The memory in that drunken song.

You’re my locked up elephant

I dare never to speak off.

 

You’re the broken windshield

that doesn’t annoy me anymore.

The dangers are just around the corner,

I’m living life on a western edge.

 

A first world problem:

I would put myself on a diet for you,

but you wouldn’t even notice

in those jeans.

So there you leave.

Too early for breakfast,

too late to call it a night.

You look even better with a hangover.

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It was a long day

It was a long day. A day of running around and I’m finally home, exhausted. I let myself fall onto bed, close my eyes. I breathe in, hold the breath for a moment and breathe out. All is well, I smile; it was a good day. You haven’t been on my mind at all, but there you are again, just in time for dinner. It’s a memory: We’re sat next to each other in the sunshine and you’re on the phone. Even though you’re next to me, I’m lonely; the conversation is taking too long. You’re next to me, but so far away. Our eyes lock, you smile apologetic in your attempt to finish the conversation and return to me. The memory fades out, you never returned, I won’t let the memory finish – it’s a beautiful, terrible, history. I stare up to the ceiling: it’s white, blank, just like my mind. Now it really is time for dinner, so I get up and leave you behind.