Is it – intrinsically connected to a youthful
indiscretion, a mistake of chemicals
that didn’t stand up against each other
or a weakness that came from an inherent strength
a talent with the fairer sex, and a violence
that enabled distance and –

There is no-one here

I learned in twenty one years how to run and hide
and lost it with drugs and vulnerability
but I lied – and you can’t get near me
exploitation and bloody fingers, a love
of the foreign and a bed to lay in
classically, obsessively, you know 
a city of broken bottles and bloodied hands




Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s