With your last breath, you focused all your will and then,

You took the knife out of your heart and impaled my soul.

Welcome to the futile death of our love.

I’d  never  have  thought  I'd  stray  before,  

But  that  was ­ before  she  moved  in  next  door.  

Those  passing  hellos  a­nd  smiles  for  my  wife,  

The  winks  and  glimpses  that  ru­ined  my  life.  

Who’d  have  known  that  little  old  me,  

­Would  swap  his  Toyota  for  a  nice  M-three!

Your tongue cut me,
The exit broke me,
I’m smiling hard,
Trying not to is harder.

New flat, new clothes,
Same mood, same toes.
I know that I’m looking at my feet!
Everyone knows I can’t face the street.

The pity party has started.
Marriage vows discarded.
Moving on is great
If you’re the one moving.

I wonder why?
Did we even try?
To fix the hole before it got that big.

A super massive black dog hole.
Big enough to drown in,
Big enough to frown in.
Far too big to live in.

The one thing I know for sure is,
These cuts are not going to heal at all,
If I don’t stop scratchin’

"The Anniversary" is approaching way way too fast,
Almost a year since...
Eleven months of "getting on with it, you know?"
Eleven months of "what do you do?"
Eleven months of "Mum's fine, thanks."
Eleven months of "I miss him every day."
When the next anniversary rolls around,
Will I still be writing?
Is this really catharsis?

Is there an end to the questions?

Well after midnight, dark out, rise at seven am.
Metallic bangs and piercing whistles going off in my head.
Sleep is like the memory of a kindergarten toy,
Once loved, but disappeared among the trials in between.
Getting up tired for the fifth time this week.

Robotically dress, wash, eat.
If I can stomach anything.
No real thought process forming,
Nothing going on but everything crashing together at once.

My head has a dull ache, not pain.
My limbs are cramped and lethargy rages throughout me,
Muscle and mind.
I try to think of something to look forward to.
Nothing seems worth it today, but I will fight again tomorrow.

Saturday morning, I awake at 7am, so much for the lie in.
Joyless prospect of tolerating those around me I do love.
My friend who is not my friend,
Is beckoning me down into the thoughtless mire
I’ll go on today.

And start all over again tomorrow.

I’d love to sit and watch the flowers grow,
Never wondering where from or when or how.
I’d love to be hugged and to not try,
To work out now exactly why.
I’d love to hear a songbird sing,
Never asking how they took to the wing.
I’d love to read a thousand more books,
And not once be asked how it looks.
I’d love to exist in peace, and dream,
Of pretty things and those less extreme.
I’d love to sleep with a peaceful mind,
Not wondering why moles are blind.
A fairy tale life, never pondering existence.
Is this the price of my intelligence?

My mood is so low, I appeared on downdetector's site