An emptiness speaks to me.




He wants his jumper back.
He gave it to me last night
To stave off Winter's plight.

But it didn't help much.
It didn't fit. Nothing about him does.
Apart from when we shagged
In the worst place at the worst time.
It felt like committing a crime

Against my own dignity.
I thought I wanted it.
My friends were doing it.
Perhaps next week I'll feel
Different. But he turns the reel

To pull me in, on his hook.
I just wanted to swim. Or drown.
Whichever's easiest.
It felt nice to be desired.
But all he's inspired

Is resentment.
Contained by emptiness.
The little flame
Is running out of fuel.
I've been played a fool.

"My head's a whirlwind" you said.
And I was at the centre.
Blown apart by gale forces, we were,
Without escape, rendered

Crippled. We had to be
Euthanised, so you say.
Whatever happened to
A brand new page

To the chronicles of us?
There was no ink
That blotched this page.
Who was to think

A whole  pen cartridge would snap
And spill tar black paint
On this clean white page?
And then you hesitate

To wipe away the river
On the paper, and streaming
Down, from your eyes,
Tinged like the ink, screaming

At me, no words being spoken.
Your salty cheeks
Were never neat. But the eye
Of the storm, is a quiet place to be.

It wasn't the decision that hurt.
It was the reaction of inaction.
And the now set in feeling
That I was never more than a distraction.

It's said that the earth's magnetic
Polarity will flip
Every few hundred thousand
Years.

But my brain decides to flip
Every few weeks on a trip.
Every look toward the future,
With gloominess leers.

It's like riding on a train,
50/50 through rain
And the other part is on a
Precipice.

But it has no destination,
And's surrounded by insulation.
I can't seem to get off it,
But there aren't any stops to miss.

This journey I'm on, it's
Half pernicious existence,
Half psychotic persistence.
Looks like
I'll need to find a
comfortable chair with a
half decent view.

I am a guitar string.
I vibrate,
And oscillate
To the tune of brain chemistry
And self-caused travesty.
But all in a soundproofed room
Where the waves can't get through.

Or perhaps I'm a shoelace.
I am worn,
And torn
By walking
And falling.
But on the shoes of me
That tread where others don't see.

Maybe I'm thread.
I am overlooked
And caught on a hook
By me, who I clothe
And also loathe.
But I am sometimes noticed,
Only when I seem broken.

I could be cable.
I am insulated,
And in a tangled state
By design,
To stay online.
But my insides can hurt,
With malice I flirt.

What if I'm a line of code?
I dictate,
And equate,
For those who request
I am put to the test.
But I'm in need of an update,
Otherwise I'll break.

A string I might be,
But I couldn't care less
As long as I have some utility.

In my head,
For a year,
I dreamt your name
Would flash on my phone.
A token of remembrance
And familiar resemblance.
But never did I know

That at a festival,
This year,
I'd get that token
That broke the silence.
Through deafening bass
And a crowded place,
Our conversation felt timeless.

Gold dust,
And rainbow stripes
Were what you wore,
Still how I remember.
Whole bodies moving,
My eyes approving
Like that first night in November.

Over the noise,
We had to shout
And get up so close
I could smell your cheek.
Half-heard sentences,
Apologetic messages,
We'd been too weak

To say before,
That night,
In Spring,
Where we cut off abruptly.
But all the pain went,
Along with those countless nights spent
Trying to pick up the debris.

My friend,
Your partner,
He'd gone
A day early.
So we spent the night together,
Ignoring the cold weather
Till tiredness made eyes blurry.

My friends
And I
Walked you back
To your yurt.
Made new favourite memories,
And an excess of remedy
To stay the hurt.

I thought a year was too late.
But instead a half blank slate
Is all I ever wanted. Now I can give

My gratitude,
And thankfulness.
That I always had,
Deep inside.
To bridges rebuilt,
And no more guilt.
I no longer need to hide

From you,
From me,
From the scars.

I guess we were bored,
Or looking for something new.
And there was a party coming up.
Someone's hosting debut.
So we thought we'd ask around,
See what else was to do.
And our **** dealer told us
He sold other things too.
He nicknamed it dizz,
And it sounded quite fun.
So we talked all about it,
Decided to get some.
We all pitched in,
Asked for five or ten pounds.
And went and collected it;
Tin foil bound.
Accompanying us
Was a sober mate.
He said it would be fun
To watch and spectate.
So we unwrapped it,
Crushed it,
Poured it,
And drank it.
The taste was disgusting,
Of abstract chemicals.
But we swallowed it down,
A moment; seminal.
They said twenty minutes,
So we sat and waited.
Our hearts were pumping
Way before eight.
And we went downstairs,
Sat on a sofa,
Biding our time,
Sipping on cola...

And there.
What was that.
A feeling.
It entered the chat.
Some warmth,
No stress.
And then a
Very deep breath
Of fresh air
And emotion.
Like emerging from the bottom
Of a very deep ocean
You had been down for years.
Reggae was playing
At very high volume.
And none wanted staying
Where we were.
So we got up keen,
And started dancing.
One even went on the wet trampoline
And bounced
Up, down,
Up, down,
Could've gone till sundown.
And the sky was gorgeous;
Metallic, steel blue
Mixed with orange and yellow.
It was quite the view.
But time was
Moving on,
So we packed up,
And were almost gone
Before keys jangled,
And the door swung open.
A parent walked in,
And caused a commotion
Of boys rushing out,
Mumbling words and plans.
We left quite abruptly,
And sprinted and ran.
Once round the corner,
We couldn't care less.
Nonchalant as usual,
We enjoyed the success.
And we walked and talked
About pure, utter, *****.
The iPhone X, some girls,
And the absolute banger that would be tonight.
So we strolled around,
The sun on our faces,
Feeling elated.
Going some places.

I smile in the face of madness,
Just to encourage the sadness.
Dancing on a cliff edge,
Where it drops into darkness.
And I hide behind my sleeves,
So that intrusive eyes leave.
Everyone has their sin,
It's just that mine's achieved.
Yet I punch a wall inside my head,
To watch the knuckles bleeding red.
There's in my mind, and what's outside.
So I sit quietly instead,
And spectate the defectives,
Third person perspective.
I see a TV screen with 3D glasses,
Mirrored and deflective.
I try to be witty,
Instead I'm viewed with pity.
It's a look I thought I'd hate,
But instead it's rather pretty,
At least on your face.
With permanent disgrace.
You tried to lend a hand,
But your care was misplaced.
So I dance on alone,
It's the only thing I've known.
And sit upon my throne,
Made of heartache and her gravestone,
And built by late night, missed calls on the phone.