Life,
Fragile,
Like the surface of a liquid.
We leave our bodies,
Becoming the same body of water,
Carried away in that great river,
Constant and flowing.
Is our ending so final?
Can we too evaporate into the clouds,
Becoming the springtime rain,
Fragile and full of life once more?

Years ago,
They used to sleep late
And dance around their kitchen.

Before arthritis and cod liver oil,
Before endless hospital appointments,
Before the cancer devoured his wife.

They had spent their life savings,
On doctors who couldn’t save her life.

Penniless, alone and vulnerable,
He could no longer look after himself.

He stopped existing in a government care home,
With nurses who never smiled
And room mates who stared at the TV,
Like flowers facing the sun.

His children didn’t visit on Sundays,
They were busy sleeping late
And dancing around their kitchens.

How could we have survived,
Without that old table?
Memories made of creaking wood,
Every scratch a storyteller.
Super glue for flesh and blood,
Which rested in my mother’s kitchen.

I jumped to a conclusion,
from such a height,
they said it was a suicide,
I think they might have been correct.

Emotion overwhelmed me,
the desperation of the moment took hold,
I acted rashly,
without thinking it through
and just like that desperate man on the bridge,
my foot untouched the edge,
the gravity of the situation pulled me down
and all that was left,
was regret.

She said,
“I wish I had done something special,”
“Like saving somebody’s life.”
I looked in her eyes,
And simply replied,
“Oh but my dear,”
“You did.”

Sometimes I get tired
And I don’t feel like driving anymore,
So I let my emotions take the wheel.

They don’t drive as well as me.

They hit every pothole in the road
And we always end up crashing,
Far from where I set out to be.

Then it’s the long walk back,
To a place I recognise,
Past broken fences
And angry faces.

The emotion takes a moment
And tells you it’s a lifetime.
It will always be like this,
It says.

And you believe its lies,
Because even in this haze of panic,
It still feels safe somehow.

Something is familiar,
It feels like your broken home,
Broken,
But still a home.

So you trust its empty words
And forget about reality
And let instinct take control,
Once again.

Sadness,
A gift somebody once gave me,
Like a heavy winter coat,
Far too big for a child,
But I grew into it.

It still hangs in my attic,
Sometimes I forget,
Sometimes I remember,
But whenever I try it on,
It still fits.

Crows dance across a grey ballroom,
Even the sky cries for you today.

Tears and black fabric collide,
An old book speaks with impotence,
There is no undoing what is done,
You are of soil and sadness now,
Another marble tooth rising from the earth.

Widow and mother take residence,
Reciting a spell made from regret,
Knowing they can never bring you back.

You want to help,
Until you have to do something.
You understand,
Until I need your understanding.
You’ll listen,
Until you hear something you don’t like.
You have patience,
Until you lose your temper.
You care,
Until it becomes hard work.
You love me,
Until you don’t love me anymore.
You’re here form me,
Until you eventually leave.

A broken heart becomes a seed,
It sprouts a bitter vine.

Stalks like rope and leaves of pain,
It creeps and chokes,
Stealing sunlight as it climbs.

My happy place,
Here with you in outer space.
A million miles from anywhere,
Floating at a measured pace.
Where love and positivity,
Light a fire in the heart of me.

My happy place,
Long lazy Sundays,
Trash TV and take aways.
The scent of sizzling bacon
And fresh bread baking.
Dancing to our special song,
At last my love has come along.

My happy place,
Where we unpacked my battered case,
Threw away the broken glass
And damaged things along the way,
This place where someone like you,
Could ask someone like me to stay.

My happy place,
Inside your arms.
No more hurt,
No more harm,
Drifting in your waters calm.
To live within your soft embrace,
Will always be my happy place.

Sand pecks at my skin.
I rest in its sharpness,
As the edge of a wave strokes my feet.

The sun is escaping.

A mocking sky turns black and blue,
It watches from the clouds,
As the coldness of the blue creeps in.

The violence of the foamy sea entices,
I pull its blanket over my head,
To sleep forevermore.