Today I felt.
A smooth,
A loneliness of sorts.
And I ask of the Unknown:
Is it you?
And I hope you miss me.



You were a sunny day with a cloudless sky;
An afternoon spent in the shade of an old oak;
The feeling of cool grass underfoot.

You were the tension in the air;
A storm that refused to break;
Dark and heavy and inevitable.

You were one raindrop at first.
Then two.
Then ten thousand.

You were a home without walls.
You were a home.
You were my home.


This is not a poem.

This is an apology, of sorts.

I’ve been erratic.

I’ve not made sense.

I’ve been a strange
kind of sad;

I’ve been a relapse.

I didn’t even notice.


But I cried for two days,

And now I’m human.


I’ve only prayed for death twice,

Is this not how life is?

There is a glass of wine in my hand;
And I’m back.
And I might have changed.

And if YOU

are reading this…

…then please know that I’m sorry.

And that I’ll be back.