Today you look especially sad
Today you look especially thin
And I want to give you a hug
But I don’t feel my hands anymore

Today you look especially sad
Today you look especially thin
And I want to whisper words in your ears
But I don’t feel my tongue anymore

Today you look especially sad
Today you look especially thin
And I want to buy you a present
But I don’t have my money anymore

Today you look especially sad
Today you look especially thin
And I want to cheer you up
But I can’t

So I’ll poke my eyes out instead

This day, as winter dies -
cold, and heartless, and exposed - a December which lingers
and feels no shame in subduing me.
It was in January that I was bad; slipping back to ghostly fingers
spectres in the eyes of him, me, you -
others around us that let their busy laughter sit on the roads like mist.
The lonely chattering of teeth under scarves, hot conversations wet with breath dew
Quick thoughts. Openly sad. Feelings persist.
A layer of sleep coated my fingers, my hair. My cold feet.
And beneath my gloved hands danced anothers' thoughts I struggled to know.
Slipping quietly into a slower body; sleeping under a layer of snow.
Soon, I promise, I will get better again. As winter dies.

Winter has arrived in my soul.
Back for another year.
I became still for a whole day.
Wondering what to do.
Wondering what to say.
It creeps slowly into every crack.
My mind it's victim.
Simple things, not so simple anymore.
I open the door to leave.
That winter crisp hits.
Voices of fun,
Voices of warmth engulf
me.
They only create a blanket.
Nothing can get in here,
it's too strong, this feeling.
I walk through crowded streets
As cold as the new winter air
This old familiar feeling back again
I didn't appreciate serotonin until now
Oh what I'd do to have it all back.
This old enemy is destroying me.
It's corrupting my thoughts.
I sit like a crumb to the earth, a tiny
speckle of air
Oxygen guzzling human
Someone eat me, give me purpose.
Take this left over and give it a point.
Silence on a saturday evening, peculiar for me.
The only life going on is outside my window.
Car radios blasting the latest chart
Getting ready for a night on the town.
The life is usually inside of me.
Not tonight.
This is a different Saturday night.
Tonight the demon returned.
Four months it will stay.
Take it away, far far away.
I feel see-through like a pane of glass
Waiting to be smashed
Check if there's something inside, please.
The glass is still, it doesn't move.
It's delicate, transparent.
The glass is prettier than me. By far.
I am so still.
Staring at the candlelight.
This Saturday feels so wrong.
There's colour all around me
yet I'm so black and white
I want all the colours of the world to
jump inside me and hold me tight.
I want them to stay and never
let go.
I want to feel everything possible,
in the most beautiful of ways.
Smash the glass, enter my soul
Let it rise from the pits of despair
From this sea of melancholy
Let it erase my troubles and dark wonders
And let it burn bright
And most crucially
Let these flames burn forever,
Forever to ignite

i am afraid of fall and winter.
i am afraid of the dropping temperature.
the trees slowly withering.
i am afraid of the short days.
and the dark mornings.
i am afraid of reliving the memories we made in the fall.
and how we broke in the winter.
my heart goes cold like the weather.

Sunflowers turn their faces towards the sun
following its warm path as it rises and sets
soaking up the comforting rays
in the winter they wither
shriveling in the grey
trembling at the loss of their old friend
the sun.

People can't act like sunflowers
we can't live to soak up sunlight
directing our lives to follow its path
sleeping through the winter
hiding our faces until the return of the warm friendly light
that melts the snow and brightens up the dreary grey

Outside I must direct my life towards the path most productive
working hard so I can have a future
and so my family and my children can have a future
I can't follow the sun with my face
like the sunflowers

But inside I shrivel in the grey of winter
the long cold months that drag on
while the sun hides behind clouds and snow
I too tremble at the loss of warmth
of bright sunny days filled with happiness

Outside I am people
but inside I am a sunflower.

sometimes
                                                       ­                         my
                                     ­ brain
                       doesn’t
                                                       ­     work

right
                                                ­                               and

                             my

                                              thoughts

     ­                                         scatter

               ­                                                    like
                               beads

                                     spilled
                               on
                                                              ­                 tile

floor

And if you are to love,
Love as the moon loves.
It doesn't steal the night,
It only unveils the beauty of the dark.

And if you are to love,
Love as the rain loves.
It doesn't wet the bodies,
It only washes the sad dirt of the souls.

And if you are to love,
Love as the wind loves.
It doesn't drift away,
It only cleanse you to the core by invading through each pore.

And if you are to love,
Love as the sun loves.
It doesn't radiates heat,
It only pours its warmth on you to enlighten your way.

And if you are to love,
Love as the star loves.
It doesn't delightfully twinkles,
It only reminds you that not even death can separate two hearts.

And so forth,
if you are to love
Love as the whole universe
& not just a part of it.

If I could love
the limping
ugly
afraid
part of me
That I drag through the mud
and thorns

If I could let
the transparent
clawing
screaming
silhouette speak
Instead of kicking it
into the basement

If I could put
my deepest human essence
onto paper
for everyone to see

Then.
Then, I could be free.

If I could turn back time
I would hit Backspace all day,
Id put on Caps Lock
and SHOUT what I say.

I'd use the whole Alphabet
To tell you hello,
Press seven Numbers
Til you picked up the phone.

I'd Tab through the comments
I didn't want to hear,
And use the Arrow Keys
To drag your body near.

I would Delete the harsh words
I didn't mean to speak,
And Insert the "I love yous"
I before couldn't leak.

I would use Ctrl to
Keep reigns over my heart,
And I would Escape lies
That tore us apart.

I'd Print out your photo
And kiss it goodnight,
Use the Calculator
To check that we were right.

I'd Paint you a picture
of us, you and me,
Then I'd hit Enter
Just so you would see.

Those are the things
I would do in my strife,
If only Backspace
worked in real life.

He died in a sleep, yesterday morning,
unnoticed, without a warning,
quiet, like people die.

Now he doesn't need their spare change,
he doesn't need their promises
to sort this problem out
before 2025.

He doesn't need you now, London,
like you never needed him,
he won't bother you anymore,
you won't hear him again saying Please.

He doesn't need you, Westminster,
death solved his problems, not you.

He passed away in his sleep,
he now lies in a warm bed, smiling,
and angels bring him hot food.

But, he wasn't the first and the last,
there's many more out there in the cold

and every death of a homeless
is a little death of our Free World.


The poem was written after learning about the death of a homeless man in the tunnel near Westminster tube station in London.