POEM – ‘Echo’

POEM – ‘Echo’

My life is made of silks,
It packs down to nothing.
Dead skin masquerading as youth,
Cold world seen through dead eyes.
Each breath I pray will be the last,
Yet time’s irony thrusts me forward.
I sit a while,
Waiting for the love that never comes.
Hope becomes a tomb,
Heartbreak the catafalque,
Emptiness – the coffin.

Staring again at a sepia stare,
Was she ever here?
Was I ever there?
The image may fade
But the memory stays sharp,
I recount every breath
Every laugh
Every touch.
Where there was warmth,
A think layer of ice forms
With my heart cold beneath it.

POEM – ‘Statistic’

POEM – ‘Statistic’

Dirt on the white stripes,
Blood on the blue.
The only colour to splash on my translucent skin,
Bar my name, numerical, scarred, permanent.

Climbing a human pyramid
Like a cancerous clown.
The snapping of bone
With each Sisyphus step.

The reward of the climb?
Scraping my nails to the quick on the ceiling.
I’d cry out but I’m muted madness
In the dark no one can see my lack of expression.

I hear a sudden scream from a stronger soul.
The brittle scaffold collapses.
There lifeless on the floor
I feel the gas come.
I feel the gas come.
I feel.