Reading Over My Shoulder

Myth-maker,

Sweet and sour

Pot Noodle memories

that remind me,

I would rather be lonely

than ‘only’ anything.

I could quite easily

destroy everything,

simply by refraining

from explaining

myself

to an audience,

that does not read,

but reads into.

 

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Inside Suicide

They sought the shadow in the shell,

telling stories of her youth in hope

the memories would remind her,

but the kind were blind and the rope

twitched, she kicked without falling,

silently calling for someone to kill her past,

and, at last, there was peace without pain,

the strain ceased, released, she danced her last.

 

Divine Offering

My corrupted conscience,

a gift to gods at odds

with their religion.

The shrike strikes

a bargain,

the grim harvest,

offered

to the empty coffer

at the alter,

altering the faltering footsteps

of a faith –

fallen on hard times.

Again, the view of empty pews,

greets the chaplain.

 

Epitaph, Entreated

 

It’s just my bones that lie here,

I want it written on my grave,

as my soul was sold so long ago,

so keep your prayers, and save

your tears; for the years I gave

you are worth more than the loss.

Wherever I am, I love you,

don’t be cross. I ask one last thing

of you, my one wish, my final boon,

live your life, be free and please;

don’t come and see me soon.