We can’t avoid the morning, we sang
and yet we tried at 3am to keep walking
our parents hadn’t a clue, that we lived
inside broken bottles, relishing youth
that we barely knew we had, that we
took for granted with everything else

Ten pounds in cash, twenty cigarettes
stolen, send an older friend to the store
and our problems were solved, in parks
and on the floor. We were safer, together

I left quickly, never thinking I would wilfully
travel back down that road, knock again
on your door. There are a hundred things
I would have said, a hundred more things
I keep close to me. Open windows, my
breath at dawn; feet freezing blue in a river

These are things I haven’t had since
a hundred things you gave to me
I never breathed your secrets, never
spilled out those Friday nights

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “

  1. I really enjoyed this. Thanks for sharing.

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