toxic

 

Corridor, Windows, Dark & Light

I remember this anger
the slow-simmering boil
clenched tight just above the gut
that sleepless certainty of knowing
you have been wronged
on every scale.

‘Stupid is as stupid does’
But I’m no Forrest
I can see the trees for what they are
the beginning of a long Heart of Darkness
where everything is warped
and wrong and upside down
because even the mood is toxic

and suddenly I can trace the battle scars
fading into the foreground
like that tattoo you forgot about
or those combat boots out back
grown dusty in the shed
the ones that helped you cross
that violent overgrown desert.

And now it’s time
time to take down the gas-mask
and strap on the worn leather
find your trusted binoculars
the ones without the fancy bits
but excellent night vision
now it is time to get out the maps
the combat notes, the exit strategies
and scout almost-forgotten terrain

because you know this is no joke.
this is as real as it gets
this is the old and known
enemy.

 

© 2017 threegoodwords

hot water

late night, past midnight
and there is yet work to be done

so I top up the bottle
with more hot water
like some comfy hen
wrapping herself up in warm feathers
cluck cluck cluck

except I stopped pretending long ago:

sudden, unpredictable cold
shivering down the spine like
a branch of flashing leaves
in an invisible breeze:
I don’t brave that anymore
like some brazen teen
infatuated with designs of cool
of “what if anyone did see?”

but cuddle up to the hot water
bottled
snug close like a young cat
curled in the crook of my lap
fast asleep, purring
while my eyes droop over keys
fingers slipping, dipping into darkness
those invisible fountain pens
flashing glossy black
on bright white screens.

 

©2017 threegoodwords

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