sometimes wish my skull was hollow,
sometimes i think it is.
brain replaced with pansies,
flourishing from liquid dreams.

face blank; staring into
unfocused air.
cursed with a sleeping brain,
blessed with its craftsmanship.

memories caught on tape.
scenarios rolling smoothly;
every moment, invoked upon personally.

worries creep in like Japanese knotweed -
can’t ever get rid of it all.
most of all, thoughts like shattered glass
make me bleed from unusual places.

sometimes wish my skull was hollow,
sometimes i think it is.
feel like i exist more in my head
than i do here.

fingertips tapping upon
translucent glass.
blurred skin on the opposite side,
pink, pressed up blotches of
arm and leg,
lip and ear,
hair and head.

alone on the other side,
lack of colour and lack of light.
watch them through the see-through wall,
just the swing of a bunched up fist
could break the fall.

the fall of light within the room,
the dim sound of laughter
from the other side,
the lack of voice that resides

on this side.
waiting is silent,
solitary in a cell of glass confinement.

an hour, another,
more time slips past,
when the room gets darker
so does the glass.

Why the frown,

wearing the angry grown

what goes around comes around

with deepened scars

and hatred more profound

The necessary evil,
like the brakes on my bike
this lockdown is now what
I hate to dislike.

Though life is a stanstill
lockdown roasts me slowly
I try to take things easy
and prefer the chicken to grill.