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


1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “

  1. I really enjoyed this. Thanks for sharing.

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