Hypothermia

The thin ice where we danced together,

Had been weakening for a while.

 

I watched your smile and mine,

Slowly turn to a frown.

 

The cracks appeared swiftly,

Once they began to show.

 

We had shared the same dream, but,

We were competing for the same ray of sun.

 

So, the icy water gripped our bones,

And together we drowned.

 

We pulled each other under,

Struggling for air in the deep deep water.

 

Nothing is ever solid as it seems,

We murdered the dream, that day.

Trainspotting

The baggage we arrived with roots us,

We try to walk away, leave it behind,

Yet our wrists are handcuffed to the handles and,

The handles are made of thick solid steel,

The luggage weighs us down to the spot.

 

People on the platform hurry by and never seem to notice,

At least they never stop to ask why we’re standing here,

Not moving,

They’re too busy with their own concerns,

They push past us like we’re invisible, insignificant.

 

We watch the trains come and go, while over the speakers,

We hear destinations listed, platform numbers announced,

We watch the clock change at an alarming rate,

Day turns to night and the platform is a ghost town,

Still, we stand here hunched over our baggage.

 

Seasons change, and still, we’re stood in the self-same position,

Weather beaten, frozen in winter, blue from the cold,

Thawing out in spring, sunburnt in summer,

Collecting the shit of passing birds on our shoulders like statues of long dead heroes,

The only constant here is us.

 

We’re waiting here all this time for the keys to the handcuffs,

To set down our burden once and for all,

To wander free of this open prison of guilt, regret, and worry,

But our keys are in the suitcases we hold,

Locked under a combination code that we can’t crack.

 

We can’t remember how we made it to the platform in the first place,

The luggage is too big too heavy to shift on our own,

Did somebody help us? Can’t recall-

They must have grown tired of carrying our dead-weight,

If they left us here.

 

Why leave us on a platform?

With so many destinations to choose,

So many journeys we can’t make,

To watch other people, get on and off with ease,

Watching trains arrive and trains leave.

 

We never consider the content of the baggage,

Grows heavier the more we put it out of our mind,

Tears well up in our eyes, we ache from the burden of all this stillness,

A child passing on the platform loses hold of a balloon on a string,

All we can do is watch it drift away, weightlessly.

Count on That

I was not the enemy,

Yet I walked blindfold from the precipice,

As darkest dreaming smothered me,

I knew I couldn’t count on you.

 

Now, I wake from the blackout,

To admit my foolishness to you,

Feel I owe you an apology,

And a piece of my pain.

 

Sorry, never good enough,

For your shell-shocked heart,

And moral judgement,

As foolish as I am,

I knew I could count on that.

 

I was not the devil that tempted me,

I was not the reflection that cracked me,

I was not the darkness that took me,

I was not the faith that left me.

 

Sorry, never good enough,

For your blind anger,

But I don’t blame you,

For you were not there,

I knew, I could count on that.

Footprints in the Frost

Soft sentiments, poetic,

Heart-warming verses,

Neatly written by innocent hands,

On pristine pages of tidy notebooks,

No torn pages, no crumpled paper,

No dogeared corners, nor crossed out words,

No bend or break in the spine of the book,

With certainty, and self-assured peace of mind,

Soft sentiments, poetry,

Heart-warming verses,

They belong to a character, in a book,

I’ll never write.

 

Because I’m starving for words,

Shivering and shaking at the back of my rented home,

It’s winter at 4am,

Starlit in pinpricks of white,

Against a deep black sky,

Clear night,

The silver moon in full bloom,

Thick frost glistening, crunching underfoot,

A dog howls in a neighbouring yard,

My breath wheezes smoke rings,

That curl, drift, fade, soft into the cold air,

Like ghosts.

 

 

I wonder why I’m out here,

With you,

On a night like this where the currency of ink is all spent,

And the soul shrinks back into the landscape,

Unseen.

 

I admit you caught me out,

Whispering at solitude,

Screaming silently,

Cursing shadows,

Caught me-

 

Leaving footprints in the frost,

For you to follow,

-Before you dare lift your pen.