You stick in my throat like something I long to say
and send a sickness sinking through me.
Then I gulp, gargle and rinse you down
my gullet like I used to do with my carrots.
With nothing you fill me so full I could burst.
But nothing ever happens; nothing at all.
Colours drain from everything around me
as If they’ve gotten bored of trying.
Night turns in, morning falls back asleep,
and each moment moans like a teenager.
But I still remember her perfume,
though it’s fading like a car over the hill.
I still remember the backcourts
when boredom used to bang and bounce a ball.
I still remember the scraped knees,
the first drink, the first joint, the first stolen kiss.
I still remember it all.
The memories jump start me into action.
And then I look at the clock.
And you remind me that it’s too late,
and that we will try again tomorrow.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 1:02 PM UTC
You stick in my throat like something I long to say
and send a sickness sinking through me.
Then I gulp, gargle and rinse you down
my gullet like I used to do with my carrots.
With nothing you fill me so full I could burst.
But nothing ever happens; nothing at all.
Colours drain from everything around me
as If they’ve gotten bored of trying.
Night turns in, morning falls back asleep,
and each moment moans like a teenager.
But I still remember her perfume,
though it’s fading like a car over the hill.
I still remember the backcourts
when boredom used to bang and bounce a ball.
I still remember the scraped knees,
the first drink, the first joint, the first stolen kiss.
I still remember it all.
The memories jump start me into action.
And then I look at the clock.
And you remind me that it’s too late,
and that we will try again tomorrow.
