19/06/17 Eleanor

I think

I sink

Drawing flowers

Passing hours

Withdrawal

Not normal

Blank document

Feel embarrassment

Morning shame

Play the game

Wall staring

Fear flaring

I wait

I hate

I think

I sink

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Companion

Four years

Sipping cask wine

Basking in fading light

Celebrating our isolation

After decades of stress

Each day promising

Something new

Spontaneity guiding us

A coin flip for North or South

My darling

You have aged with the grace

Of a balmy night breeze

Remember that December

We had Christmas

In a forest

No tinsel or gifts

Just a river

Just our skin

Travel with me further

To the edge of life

For I will always be

Your companion

And the road will

Always be our home

Until the fuel runs out

Oh

Hello there, me again

The voice inside your head you ignore

Just wanted to let you know

That everyone you love is going to die

That you will most likely die a painful death

And it doesn’t even matter

The world is going to shit anyway

Your government is probably lying to you

Everyone is becoming a fat keyboard warrior

Drooling over the fact that Queen B blinked

That you like to think you’re an individual

Yet the ongoing spread of communication

Means we have all become clichés

That the most joy you get in life

Is living through fictional characters

And that people are progressively more repugnant

You are glad if you don’t see another human being for a whole day

You will most likely work in a job you hate

For your very short life

To save up enough money

For some underpaid carer to forget to shower you

So you can sit there in old age

And think what a waste of time and space our society has become

But hey, you will die

Hopefully you live somewhere where euthanasia is legal

That’s all

Forest Cave

In the soul of the forest

Trees crowded in an ancient meeting

Wings beating against your ears

As the secrets I whisper in trust to you

Hang in the fogged air like

The scent of life and death on your skin

Give me your sorrow as I give mine

In this realm connected and out of place

I want to feel every piece

Every quiver like the deer

That is always waiting for something bad

To understand how it is you are here

A man that has walked beside the reaper

Since you were a child

Fear has warped into numbness

The acceptance of chaos

As healing as a fire

That rips through the forest

Enabling the growth of new things

It can never be as it was

Admit to yourself that nothing matters

Yet the sun matters to the canopy

As it reaches for its warmth

Reach for me

Dweller of darkness

Tell your story to the night

Rest your head on the moss

Let yourself pretend for a moment

You are nothing but flowers

Bursting from the ground

Pale and beautiful

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Point of S(t)ale

in a darkened building

she is behind a counter

there is a long line of shadows

waiting on her

filling the space with decaying breath

she feels around for a screen

or a till stashed full of money

nothing is switched on

she is helpless

but the shadows refuse to leave

with their yellowing nails

clutching this and that

a lot of time has past

the urgency makes her teeth grind

they only care for themselves

she lies on the floor in desperation

they can not see her there

she knows it is childish

she is tired of being gawked at

despite the feeling that she is in trouble

it is a relief

unusually soft too

a body grabs her

she sits up

sticks her hand out

on to her bedside table

the counter seems to vanish

with the realisation

that her partner is embracing her

from behind

in their double bed

far removed from registers

from customers

her heart beat slows

she is in her favourite place

although

it feels like the shadows linger

always wanting

always waiting

unrelenting servitude

in an unending cycle

The Full Moon

the full moon

watched by a silent soul

noting the intensity of its glow

wondering if its an eerie coincidence

that it reminds them of the one they loved

who died ten years ago

as if the universe is giving a poetic reminder

to never let the memory fade

they feel it is a significant moment

with the moon a witness to their grief

the full moon

shines on another

doped up and done with the night

sprawled in a park

preying to anybody that would listen

that they will wake up to see the new day

caught up in the high

the moon catches their eye

a reminder of their loneliness

in the great scheme of things

 

the full moon

it offers itself as a beacon of light

in the literal sense

an icon for romance

and many other metaphors

the audience member

of the world

will listen when we howl

and that is all

Egomaniac

with every coffee you drink

it’s funny to think

it’s all for your Instagram

and all the pretty girls

that slip from your grasp

oh how they laugh

and say they dodged a bullet

because you’re full of it

you’re scared of fading out

as a forgotten soul

blurring into commitment

not filling that hole

you prefer the drama

it makes you feel important

so you can say life is hard

oh poor you

with your edgy Polaroids

thriving in your fake misery

your relationship f**k-ups

are simply future conversation points

at another back yard party

own your bullshit

don’t drag others down with it