Warning - Suicide Themes.

The echoes in this in-ruins tenancy,
haunts with its peaceful darkness
level 5 of St Martin's Centre.
It was like a true calling,
an end to grip displeasing
the silence of insects buzzing.

I felt a calamity peace
never for long time felt,
shadows clawing out to me,
flick metal of stanley knife
out to a pale simple cut,
wishing blood forever stains
gushing out from my neck.

I could have been a blending
a smorgasbord of a corpse,
read the light in glimmer of creation
I could have been with shadows,
Those resting  call out to me...


How can one such as I,
attracted to the blackened places,
ignite a glimpse of shiny spark
leads to salvation of the blind....

I can't raise a hammer,

just a silvery bending fork.

Is a defence mechanism homing

to stirring assurance missed?
This will haunt me for all my life,

bellows comes out flames in mouth
I caught on slow & never learned,

bumping heads buries this child