29 December 2012
In the early morning light Nothing seems to have any colour, Which I never knew before now: Consolation, perhaps. A little extra knowledge to ease the pain. Here, sat alone, the streets uniform grey lines Tiled and slated, with faded curtains Wilting pot plants, curling up in the shade Neglected in cobweb-draped porchways, And cigarette butts stubbed into dirty pavement cracks, Around lamp-posts, littered with peeling flyers; I notice how the light of dawn drains All colour from the picture Like a wet photograph. I don't want to be here, And I know, deep down, I shouldn't be here anyway, But I need a moment Just for me To smoke my cigarette and... Breathe a little. I need to exist alone, briefly, Staring out at this sedate road, Where everyone is still asleep.
I lean further out the window, And breathe in the fresh air. It's pretty cold outside, but I don't mind, It's the crisp sea air Blowing across the roof tops. I really love the sea side, but no one ever takes me, They think I like to sleep all day And emerge, late at night, And smoke, and drink, and Drape myself against things, collarbones jutting And heart beating. The smoke from my cigarette billows off Down the street, Carrying little twists of ash along with it. Fuck this. I feel for the heavy bruise that has Bloomed, purple and ugly On my right breast From god knows what we did last night.
Oh, why do I even fucking bother, Why do I care? Why am I here, leaning out of your dirty bedroom In one of your grey, creased band t-shirts Smelling of shit aftershave and Looking out with hazy eyes Onto a street I've never even seen by daylight before, Thinking about what a shit person I am For sleeping with my boyfriends brother.
...Again.
I don't get Why people can't just do what I do And float along aimlessly, Fucking each other over, And screwing each other up, But not in a harmful way: In a youthful, peaceful, 'I'm just living' way. Why do people want to grow old together And have beautiful memories? Care about each other, grow attached. What if they leave? What will you do then? You'll never be whole again if they up sticks. I don't want that?! I mean, I may have done, once or twice But I can't help fucking people over. I get distracted.
I brush some ash from one of my long, brown curls, And take another drag of my dwindling cigarette. I can hear you breathing softly in the bed behind me No doubt smug as ever, Sprawled out, pale and stubbly, So... Demanding, so imposing I just can't resist, But right now I just want to get out of here. But you can't just do that, can you? Because now we're attached, Now, if I see you in the street, I have to smile, Or if someone mentions your name, Your face flickers behind my eyes. I can't just forget you ever happened. And, as soon as you awake, You'll pull me into your huge, hairy arms And clutch my twiggy body, Jutting and pale, Perhaps worryingly so, And I'll smell the beer on your breath, And the smoke on your skin, And all I'll want to do is walk downstairs, Slip my DM's on, And walk out the front door.
your elderly neighbour will be horrified At my lack of manners, And my distinct lack of knickers, Which would make me smile As I ran my bony fingers through my hair, And rubbed the smeared mascara from my cheeks. She'll know you're a bad, bad boy And she'll never look at you the same again.
I'd keep walking down the street As the early sun seeped in between chimney pots And the quiet homes of a cul de sac, And disappear into nothingness, Nameless, loveless, homeless, Aimless, And when you ask me what I want to do, I'll take a swig of my drink, Kick the dirt, And tell you I just want to be.
I just want. To be.
Just To Be. • Opuss № I