Take care of me
Coddle me
Tell me I'm yours
If I told you "I'm broken"
I'd be fishing for compliments
On empty shores

We have run our three course meal into the ground.
So back to the house no longer called a home,
where the air is stale with unfulfilled promises and carbon monoxide,
suffocating.
In the harsh light of the fridge,
the milk sits,
souring.
The fruit bowl is a compost heap
of overripe cherries,
covered in the moss of mould.
The apples have furred over,
biodegraded.
Become a new, poisonous organism.
Like us.

There was a girl crying in the loo today,
when asked if "okay?"
She lied,
said she was fine
from behind the locked door.
Staring at linoleum speckled with grey dots,
and tears.
Little could be done
for the crying girl behind the toilet door.

As we walk,
You tell me
that the silt from the river
has built up over the years
creating a new bank
with flowers
and plants
making the best of the rich soil.
As you speak,
I note the sound of your voice
and wish
I could sink in
and grow
like the foxgloves
in the mud.