top of page

Marlboro red. To read during smoke break

I’m okay with the idea of lighting a cigarette every morning and sharing it with the lover. . its the kind of forever that doesn’t frighten me. The silence and the trees make his side of the world so much more beautiful. Somewhere in this post should be a poem i meant to write about his sense of humour. There are more than 378 texts between the boy from the Orbit and I. I have called him ‘Hommie’ more than 378 times. This morning i woke up with a big hole in my chest. thought of the many sachets of sugar the lover keeps bringing me. Says i never have to run out of sugar again. Can you imagine that? Something that goes on forever, instead of finishing it just keeps growing more and more and sweeter and sweeter. Its overwhelming, you have to take a deep breath every time you think about it.

I tried it,

taking deep breaths and counting to 11,

it didnt work.

crying didnt work.

the shower didnt work.

the music didnt work.

fresh air and nice views of the city didnt work.

I miss you. I think about you. I’m sad on most days, i dont understand why.  But I used the sugar and hot water to calm my panic attack. I wanted to thank you but

my phone is not working.

my heart is aching.

my chest is empty.

mother thinks i just need some sleep.

Dear lover

The sun came out today. Smile, they are watching us. Quick say something funny, the silence is getting awkward.

PS. I’m really scared to go alone but i need to. i have to. i will.

2 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Rekindling You

Today, I stretched all the way to the door and thought I would leave. My arms held me tight but I was also reaching out. From the outside in, from the inside roaming in the clouds. When you look up an

Clutch

I am standing still. The sky swoon Over my glaring soul. The moon in angst Over a lover who fell On my shoulders. Everything, pressing On me to move. Put the stars back In their place. Configure the c

The house

i Mother says there are locked rooms inside all women; kitchen of lust, bedroom of grief, bathroom of apathy. Sometimes the men – they come with keys, and sometimes, the men – they come with hammers.

Comments


bottom of page