You have stared into my soul precisely twice;

And that is apparently all it takes,

Because that’s all it took.



I thought we met in spring,
but it was already autumn.
Your affections fell away
to rot around me;
plucked by the cooling wind.
My novelty faded
with the first breath of winter’s night;
Familiar streetlights guide me back
to my lonesome world.


The stranger in the mirror wears my clothes,
although they’re tighter on her.
My diamond hangs round her neck.
She has different eyes:
Soft grey; a touch of storm.
Clear and deep;
Their murky film washed away.
She told me her name once,
and I laughed.
It didn’t fit anymore.
The sadness tapers off,
and the stranger
is stranger still.


In this building of nurses insisting I press the bell and let them help, the panic attack plays through without witness.

A midnight delivery scares the birds out of the trees and into the sky; free and flying and soon they will be calm.

Another minute passes. Another moment closer to morning. Another cry down the hallway from a man who doesn’t know what morning is. 


An exercise in recognising strength
began with waking in a pool of sweat;
With a throat full of bile,
And a heart full of terror.

I killed four people last night.
I remember the tearing muscle
as I ripped the jaw off one;
The way I was hunted;
The way I was found;

The laughter.
The anticipation.
My own jaw.
My own tendons.
Their revenge.

And this morning-
I dressed and cooked and cleaned;
I brushed some dogs;
I wrote another thousand I’ll probably never publish.

I laughed a little.
My body count is long lost;
Maybe somewhere with my mind.