Sleeping On An Argument

I’m not talking to you anymore

She said

You’re being ridiculously petty

If you’d have listened in the first place

He said

We could have been in bed already

Grounding

Thanks for talking to me

He said

I hope it was of some worth

Thank you for listening

She said

It brought me back to earth

That Summer

That summer with you was glorious.

I was young, fearless and eager to learn.

You were older, wiser and willing to teach.

I can still recall that first night. You grabbed my hand and whispered ‘Come with me’.

We sailed past the doormen and into the club. I remember that heady mix of beer in plastic glasses, cigarette smoke and pounding bass lines in darkened alcoves.

We danced all night as those songs played and we lost ourselves in each other.

That summer was twenty two years ago, but it feels like it was yesterday.

Thank You.

For JH.

(Originally Posted 24.03.2019)

Story Books

Read
to me
some
more

She
said

I
swoon
to the
sound
of your
voice

Tell
me
what
you
want
to
hear

He
said

You
know
it’s
always
your
choice

Please Don’t Go

If
I can’t
speak
to you
anymore

Then
who
else is
going to
listen?

There’s
not
many
that
can
tolerate

My
incessant
whining
and
bitching

Real Talk

It
hurts
my
heart

To
hear
you
cry

And
watch
you
break

Like
this

As
your
life

Falls
apart

And
you
stare

Into
the
abyss

Name That Tune

People play
those songs

With no notion
of this pain

No idea that
when I hear them

My heart bleeds
for you again

Masochism

Every time
I hear
this song

It brings
tears to
my eyes

And pain
to my
heart

A reminder of
all I’ve come
to despise

And how
we’ll forever
be apart

I should
just press
stop

Switch
off the
laptop

And
walk
away…

‘Handsome Devil’

There
was
once a
light

That
shone
in my
life

But
now it’s
sadly
gone out

For
I
have
found

Heroes
let
you
down

Of that
there
can be
doubt

I’d Only Stand in the Kitchen Anyway…

For the third night in a row there are people having a party, somewhere, along my street.

I can hear them talking and laughing in their garden.

I can smell their cigarette smoke through my open window.

I can hear the rattle of beer bottles as they are thrown into the recycle bin.

Music blares away until the early hours.

I’m so jealous sitting here, miserable and alone, night after night.

I mean, I can be fun too you know.

Well, kind of.

Robert

Your
melancholic
madness
dances
rings
around
my
heart

As
you
smudge
your
eyes
with
kohl

And
slash
your
lips
with
crimson

Camping

The warmth of the sun on your face,

The anticipation of a road trip with friends,

The promise of tall tales around the campfire.

It’s the little things that bring the most joy.

Reminders

It’s when it comes from nowhere,
that’s the worst.

The hysterical sobs that hit without warning.

When I’m driving and our song comes on the radio.
When a letter arrives and it’s addressed to you.
When I find a pair of your socks in my drawer.

My throat constricts,
as my lungs compress.

My stomach lurches,
as my heart laments.

And my eyes burn as I drown, slowly, in my own tears.

Musings on a Song

We are so close but so far away

You are listening and so am I
You remember and so do I

If only things were different
But they never could be

No-one is that lucky

'It is what it is'

After all

Up ↑