I sit scouring the internet
looking for some easy stimulation;
distraction more than anything

I sit alone,
a special kind of silence looming over me;
it would be petrifying if it wasn't so common

a pulsating energy bubbles inside me,
trapped, with no escape;
it just vibrates there, relentlessly

there is an itch in a cavern of my mind;
buried deep down and hidden away,
under piles of forgotten memories and unfulfilled dreams

sleep feels like a myth;
some old story told to cold scared children
to distract them from the horrors of our world

all four walls appear to be closing in;
the faces of the ones I love slowly disappearing from memory;
I am becoming someone else,
something else

it'll pass
it always does

until then I scour

I think about you when I see a barefoot rider.
Or hear Fields of Barley or Is this Love.
Lime cordial doesn't taste the same.
And an egg is just an egg now.
Crying Little Birdy, dappled light and swaying curtains
Or alto voices that are lower than mine but just as bright.

I think about you when I use a dishwasher stick
That has the scourer with the detergent in it.
When I sit over the crack in a couch.
When it rains and it's cold.
When I have cold feet.
When I slip into cool sheets.

I think about you when Father Ted is on.
Imagine you in Paul Kelly songs.
When I smell cut wood, sanded back.
Or salt air.
Or see grey hair and weathered loved houses.
Or women in vests with lilac blouses.

I think about you in the water,
When I'm in the shower, or at the beach.
When it rains and when I drink.
In the blue and green and sometimes silver.
Or when I'm smothered in an unrequited love
That isn't yours.

The grumbling piglets of despair
search for mumble truffles everywhere
they scourer the forest with their snouts
this is to them, is what life's all about

Nosing through decaying leaves
underneath the oaken trees
snouts twitching saliva running
with their little stomachs rumbling

The farmer does not have a clue
that his piggies are on the loose
he's in the kitchen having soup
made from little piglets juice

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris