as the cold breathes through the cracks

coffee bubbles

I remember our London flat

frost across grass

we couldn’t access

small puffy bed like a bier in the theatre of a room

that same couch, no

one that gave us the idea

smoothcool stone flag floors

in the stepped down bathroom

a box inbetween

sections of a life

oh and how they betrayed me

and I cheated myself

so that

foxshit smell on a cold morning

twines with

the nausea of anxiety

fear-bound days

and the drinking dawning

on me that it had to go

no it couldn’t be

because now it stopped

why do those feelings return

oh the gnawing

sick

pain, you can’t just will it away

I grit my teeth

like Anne Boleyn

I’ve played, and played and spun

the magic, turned the wheel

and run

glamoured my way

please let me lay it down

without losing my head

to the executioner

I am my own

dark enemy

 

Photo by erin mckenna on Unsplash