You tried to tame this wild life, and it fought unfairly, as feral things do.
The current was rough and the tide consumed you;
Discarding your remains in vomit
and shame
and assumption.

And one day a stranger called you from the sky
or the soil
or the sea;
And you were warm on her skin;
And you sang her to sleep.



There’s a poem in me today; I know it. There’s a poem about a smile which makes my chest ache and a corpse somewhere that barely resembles a body and a loss that I’ll never truly know. 

There’s a poem in me about a man that scares me and a nervous response that I regret each time it forces my face into a smile.

There are novels in me about lives unlived and restless staring at a blank sheet of paper as the stories fight amongst each other instead of preserving their selves.

There are worlds in me that you’ll never know and souls that I will never touch and lovers that will never meet without me. 

And yet I file away at the edges of the days until they are dull and blunt.


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.


The sea teased the coarse sand of the beach with its caress a few metres in front of him. He watched it through distracted eyes, turning every minute or so as if waiting for someone to join him on the moonlit pebbles of the shore. A ferry was passing on its path into the harbour, close enough that he could hear its speakers announcing to the people on the deck that they were to prepare for the end of their journey. The waves became erratic as the large vessel marked its tracks, racing each other to the beach with impatient hostility.

The man glanced behind him again and this time stood clumsily, slipping a little on the stones. He smiled as his eyes followed an invisible person that appeared to be traveling towards him. He reached out a hand in greeting but the way he retracted it slowly whilst turning back to the sea suggested that his advance was rejected. His eyes still followed the unseen soul as it traveled towards the sea, and he began to plead with it for attention. He took a few steps closer to the sea and paused to stare out over the water for a few moments. The boat had passed and the wash was calm once more.

His gaze lowered to the pebbles at his feet as he spoke a soft apology. When he looked up his expression changed. His eyes wide and his mouth ajar he staggered forward three steps, reaching an arm out before him in desperation. He let out a cry of pain as he stepped into the edge of the sea and then dropped to his knees, one arm still extended before him, the other on the watery floor for support. He stared through widened, teary eyes at a point in the water a few metres out; a point too deep for a person to stand.

He was plucked from the water by an older woman in a dressing gown, who held him in her arms and stroked his hair gently for a minute or two as he sobbed heavily into her shoulder. She steered him towards the pavement where an older man stood with an open towel, and together they deposited him once again into the solitary car at the edge of the road. As they stood beside the vehicle the older man took the lady’s hand and squeezed it gently to comfort her as a droplet of water slid down her cheek. She wiped it away hastily, giving her usual wave of thanks to her messenger, who stood in a doorway across the road with a phone in her hand.

They drive away, hearts heavy with sympathy.


“Why did you do it?” read the note in his hand.
He stuffed it back into his pocket, his face expressionless.
He stood alone in the open grassland, not a light for miles but the low moon in the cloudy sky.
He looked around him, cursing the incompetence of his men under his breath.
He sighted the large mound of dirt and began to walk towards it.
As he came closer two figures rose from where they rested next to the soil.
He berated them as he approached with profanities and insults.
The two men bowed their heads and muttered their apologies.
He strode closer to the excavation behind the dirt and assessed it for a moment.
“You sure it’s him?”, he said, gesturing towards the hole with a nod.
The the taller of the men stepped forward and handed over a leather wallet and an ID badge.
He examined them.
The badge matched his own.
He gave another nod and threw them into the trench.
He took the note once again from his pocket, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed that in also.
“Fill it in.”
The two men hurriedly collected their shovels and started to replace the soil.
He turned and to walk back the way he had come.
A few paces away the ground became soft for a moment, then resumed normality.
He did not look down.
He knew what lay there.

Or rather, who.

[prompt source]