Exit

The worst part about
ignoring you
is that
you haven't even noticed.

I am that insignificant.

I must have fallen through
a crack in your brain
the day after
everything got fucked.

The second worst part
is I don't even like you
any more

and I used to.
I really did.

Next month I'll be gone.

_________________________

Wait

Today our house

Our little nest

Filled with pain

Like water filling Thai houses

to the brim.

Our lungs and hearts filled up with

Hurt and hope lost.

We looked for escape

and saw only our possessions;

all the things that made us who we are

swamping us with their normality.

There was no way to float to safety.

So before you came,

I sat in the garden

in the wooden chair

The only chair that wasn’t wet

And waited to find out

If you still loved me.

And still there were things:

A reminder of the fireworks,

The barbecue covered and dry,

the summer that hadn’t yet come. 

______________

The Present

In the pink box
lies a hairslide in the
shape of a bug.

It is a glorious green.

It lives in the pink box.

You are mad at me,
because I've never worn it.
But if I wore it
the magic would wear off.

_____________

Love Story

What if

the best thing

about falling

in love

isn’t him;

how he looks

when you’re

inches apart,

or the things

he told you

whilst the

headlamps

outside

lit up the window

like fairy lights. 

What if

the best thing

about falling

in love

are your

stories,

that used

to be old

now

suddenly new;

the kids

you went

to school with,

what your parents

did wrong

and how

you didn’t

mean to

end up here,

It just

happened.

________________

Progress

eventually

all you’ll become

is an imprint

less material

than a pressed

flower

from a

bygone age.

there wont be

a love letter

or a

faded photograph

in your

legacy.

you will be

transient

as a

text message. 

___________________

Fantasy

goodbye

cheap chicken shops

with

smiling cartoon

birds

beckoning

us in

to feast on their

slit throats

and

bleached flesh.

goodbye

free papers

thrust into unwilling

hands

by purple and yellow

people

in baseball caps.

I won’t miss

circumnavigating them.

goodbye

escalators like teeth

hot dark tunnels

an armpit in my face

and the fear

of being pushed

or pushing

someone

to their death.

And

goodbye

your curls in the

bin

your brown eyes

and that smile

like a magnet

or honey

either way, a trap

and my hope that

this time

things would

be alright.

_______________________