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.




Panelled walls,

the smell of walnut,

and a sense of antiques,

priceless, but only worth

what opportunists

will pay for them.

Brown sugar cubes,

served on the side of a saucer

of a milky coffee,

though I asked for it black.

I attacked the pretentious sandwich,

forgetting all etiquette

as my stomach reminded me

it had been almost as long

since I ate,

as when I last slept.

I kept my hunger at bay

with a book,

swept my memories away

and took

one last look

at the things I wanted,

before retiring

to the other room,

with the tiled walls

and the smell of chestnut.


Son Shine






I tried to teach you lessons

that I never learned,

preached about passions,

the bridges I burned,

and I spoke of the world

like it was somewhere I had been,

warned you away from girls,

take it all away, unclean,

that anthem, that screamer,

I almost coughed up a lung,

this daft, old daydreamer,

born old to die young,

thankfully, you did not listen,

too much like your dad,

I leave proud tears to glisten

on memories we have had.





I love you, sunshine.