That's when I realised;




















I'm not very good at writing dramatic single sentences.

A dull doll faced mug
Glinted by unknown light
Dried a drip of ancient drink
Dripped down quite

Hands clasped tight around
A mug of occult confession
Eyes teared as such
A sorrowful expression

Dappled light through glass
Chair scrapped along floor
Spotted plastic tablecloth
Shut tight wooden door

Homemade woollen tea cosy
Lumps of bricked sugar
Kettle whistling dolefully
Clicking stained cooker

Futile arms waving
Closed taught eyes
Sigh of calming thoughts
"Please, no more lies"

I always thought that heart ache was poppycock.














I was wrong