Escaped
Last time
she was safe
a
neat-fronted doll’s house
dragged
tears past wet gravel
to
whipped-up playground sobs
spread out
a coat; sat under the slide
blared out
of her head with
wine and
iron melody
three
hours
later
she
opened
her
eyes
When she
walked past
pretended she was a sister
pretended she was a sister
come to
visit. Then stopped.
Hunched in
bus shelter
away from
sunburn
stink of
shit and bad plans
It’s a long
wait home
forget the
hours active
in scrawl
and slump
keep the
iPhone photo:
chipped out
greys, blue
wooden
calves walk
hours and
hours and hours
Habit
Breathe through my mouth for weeks
Cutting off one sense too many
I draw the smell back into a grey
faecal fug. Predictively habit-forming
This chopping back wires into the world
No one lands in hospital
I prefer to disappear, block off nostrils
with the back of my tongue
My jawline alters a snip
You wouldn’t notice.
I smile as air whistles
through my teeth.
Punch drunk
I believe I need a fine feathered idea
almost no one has massive plans for coping.
You’re the second window I’ve kicked in
locked away in a toilet cubicle.
Eight years in a fortnight of therapy
is not enough to extinguish the rumpus.
If I’m lost, or I’m forgiven
I’m sorry. I beat up the bathroom.
At the sisters’ house I shattered
spun handles from green vacancy to red.
I felt like he was me, in his loudest voice.
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