I wonder how many times I have missed you saying "I love you" because I put the phone down

at sixteen
feeling defeated because
mum doesn't want to hear me read her poetry
like a little kid who's
drawing got tossed into
the back drawer and
forgotten about for twelve years

School photo day was a ******.
Maybe it's because my eyeliner was smudged.

Or maybe it's because he's dead.

Thanks for your condolences. I've been getting them every few months or so.

Part 2 (two)

god i'm so sorry

Swimmers.
Groping each other,
intimately,
through the distance of a lane rope.
The lady,
with three children,
touched,
my thigh,
and I brushed past the man,
who's five times my age,
his hands,
soft,
and embracing.
But it's okay.
Because I'm drowning.

If I was to
stare dull and grey
in a broken dismay

would it be easier

to say you love me?

I think the tin roof
will still be warm
when the sun sets
and
the breeze
will be a familiar
memory

the background holds a radio crackle and a distant dogs bark

my telephone screen
prints your name
and the illuminated letters
haunt me
as the aftermath
of your actions