2 pints

 

I’m thinking about the spit on my boyfriend’s cheek,

And how he doesn’t lift his arm to wipe it even though he knows it’s there,

And I’m thinking about the pressure of the glass on my lips,

And what would happen if I pressed a little harder,

And I’m thinking about you of course.

I’m thinking about the warmth of my coat, his coat,

And the cold at the end of my toes that I can only feel when I think about it,

And then I’m thinking about you again and I can’t feel my toes anymore.

I’m thinking about how close her arm is to his,

And how it’s hypocritical for me to burn when I see them touch,

Because I’m thinking about you of course.

I’m thinking about the couple across the garden,

And how they haven’t spoken once in ten minutes,

But have found an hour’s worth of kissing in that time,

And now I’m thinking about you of course.

I’m thinking about tomorrow and I’m thinking about tonight,

About whether I should leave early or stay for another pint,

About what my friends would say if I went right now,

‘Come on, stay for one more round’,

I’m thinking about my options and how they aren’t really mine at all,

And I’m thinking about you of course.

My train is delayed

I fell to my feet metaphorically
As I poured my heart into her half empty half full glass
She drank it pensively
Balancing each drop on her manicured lips
And told me she wasn’t good enough, was she?
When I’d tried so hard to persuade her the opposite
And that was why I was leaving
For she never knew
Never tried to understand
How hard it is to watch her split and rip every centimetre of her body
Screaming out
And in
Praying for some different skin
Or limb

And then a stitch broke away from her lip
And her nose cracked, crackled
Eyebrows ruffled and spouted
And every individual lash fell out
A thin clean break from forehead to temples
Lets wrinkles form in the spaces
Cheekbones became cheeks
And jawline became jaw
As every inch of created self
Slipped away from her skin
And fell in a pile at my feet
Every detail so closely planned
Became ever so incomplete

And I told her she was beautiful
And she replied: not beautiful enough.

An introduction to alcoholism

 

You wake, sip, then force

The thick chemical clog to the back of your throat

It sits persistent in dipping skin

And cheek pouches

Like a rodent, you ponder

Spit or swallow

And as she slips

And skips down oesophagus

Forcing her bulging, wrinkled body

Into deeper holes

Deeper hopes

And steeper slopes

She numbs your brain

Body and brain

And numbs the pain

 

She rests momentarily

Before your stomach

And lurches in chunks upwards to heaven

Tonight’s dinner:

Casserole and rice and bile

She makes your cheeks blush

And hairs stand on end

Sweet lumps of plaque

And yellowed paste propelled

But forcing it down in heavy gulps

She continues her journey

To cancer-ridden joints

Where she makes her dwelling

Your blood her bed

 

And in the aftermath

She lingers forcefully

In tongue grooves

Beneath and between teeth

Peppered and salted

Plated and served

Your heart rate is jacked

Lip’s bittersweet, and temperament cracked

To Marseille

Lifting from misty lines to a rather perfect sublime

of blue and red and orange

and a crisp horizon and powder clouds

sheets of air piled high

prevents me from seeing before

so I can only see the now

and here

and I can’t see ahead

to midday or even to the next now

so I concentrate and lose concentration

stuck in liminality

all directions blocked

pausing only seconds at a time to enjoy the repetition

of soft clouds and empty skies

of soft nows and empty minds

and it’s not lonely anymore

On the Millennium bridge

 

Mirrored lights

Shallow and deepen

As photos are taken in the cloudless sky

And I imagine our faces blurred and out of focus

Like the memory

A small speck on a broader landscape

A single moment on a timeline

 

I slip down metal seats on the Millennium bridge

And you catch me

As I feel myself falling

Pull me back to reality for a little longer

Maybe just a few seconds

Before I feel myself falling again

 

And we are cradled by the bridge’s strong arms

And imagine a world beneath the water

That you can only see when focusing on the lights

And the lines

And the lights

A bus crosses further on and we think the same again

And laugh because it’s funny but also because it’s not

Because it’s scary but it isn’t

Because it’s meant to be wrong

But it’s so very right

 

Body bag

I learnt a lot about myself today, whilst sitting terrified next to the man I had decided was going to kill me. On a plane I had predicted would plummet to earth full of empty bodies, leaving their empty minds and thoughts straddling the clouds. In a seat I had set the fortune for; to burn with my carcass over Portugal, or France. I’d chosen the role of the innocent man who sat peacefully next to me, ordering a sandwich and some wine (the last supper). I learnt a lot about myself today.

Continue reading “Body bag”

Coldplay are alright

1: You’re pretty

2: Okay

1: Okay?

2: I guess.

1: That’s what makes people interesting though, isn’t it? (2 nods). What you like might be something I hate (2 looks away). You might love Coldplay and I might hate Coldplay and you’ll never understand why I couldn’t love them and I’ll never know why you like them so much (2 looks at their feet). I think you’re unbearably gorgeous and you might think you’re nothing. But I’ll never understand why you can’t see what I see so clearly and you’ll never understand why I do.

Are you okay?

Yes, I am okay today,

As I was in the cloudy, stormed night of yesterday,

When my mouth frothed and sprayed,

With things I wanted to say,

But couldn’t.

And my hands lay electric under the immense weight,

Of everything that I have faked

And everything that I couldn’t.

But I am not happy.

Because every moment mocks and mimics me,

And makes me ‘okay’ again, you see,

It reminds me that I am and also am not.

And it laughs

Ha

It laughs at me:

At my okay-ness and willing to be who I don’t want to be.

So, when you ask,

‘Are you okay’

I say yes.

Because I have never felt so ‘okay’,

And at the same time never seen ‘okay’ so small and far away.

So I say,

‘Yes, I am okay’

But what I really want is for you to ask

Are you happy?