Mist-ed Coffee Morning (poem)

a memory trapped in a coffee shop

its mist-ed rained window panes

sheltering us from the air

letting us hide

for a moment longer

in the steam cloud of secrets

pretending it wasn’t about to end

Advertisements

Break Up. (Poem)

Breaking, upwards of the truth-

broken

down

to the grit,

the pieces beneath.

The essence of sadness, combined with

shock and spittle through angst and hatred.

Break, in the utmost foundation;

the line in the undusted,

the crack in the gateway.

Broken

by the bind,

seeping, the cold truth

soaks in

and you wake up,

wet and alone

unknown and blissful,

gone from the grip.

Restart.

Replaced,

Ruined by words.

‘I

think

we

should’,

Break   –   up.