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Jul 2015
The voice in my head speaks of love and loss.
It comes out in predictable metaphors,
wants to speak in frustrating monotone,
wants to reflect those crude comparisons
of cigarettes and ticket stubs,
rain on windows and kisses on the bus
wants to feel what I haven’t
and live what others have.

Me, I’m trying to tell you about the damp in the window pane.
Honesty is hard but I want to avoid cliche,
I’m listening to broken records
and scratching at the ceiling,
I’m scribbling out rhymes in attempt to get feeling
I’m throwing pens at the wall
because all I’m writing is writing
and I’d rather nothing at all
but I’ve got to keep the light on.
Martha O'Brien
Written by
Martha O'Brien  UK
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