my mother taught me to leave when no one’s lookingwhen there is no danger of being stopped or getting caughtshe left past midnightthree children in towattempting an escapealong dark beaches, rail tracksheart pounding but I sayleave in the lightbefore being leftleave when it is least expected – that’s when no one’s looking
some morningsI wake up broken wash the blood from the sheetsafter he goesthey do not dance in the breezeor dry stiffin the hot sunbut seethe in darknessbeneath a ceiling fan swirling slowly,heavy,bearing witness to too much
you saw me standing in the rain I guess you had to have your wayI was lying in your sunshineuntil you swam awayopen the floodgates I'm drowning open the floodgates set me free you turned off the lights and music turned the waves on in my veins I crash upon your shores now you just smile and walk away open ...
the womanin the housebehind my mother’sforever leaping into wellsgot on my mother’s nerves‘why can’t she do the damn thingwhen the well is full?’she would fumeknowing full wellit was only a cyclerinse, rise, repeat.
we were not so poor thenwe spoke Englishhad running waterand tins of food from Englandfrom those who left before usour possessionof this tongue alonewas enough for mothersto send their children to our gardeneven after our mother left(but what gave us street credwere those instant soups)we were not so desperate theneven when the same bloodrunning in our veinsstarted running in the ...
I should have dated losersthe kind of people who would eventuallyslip through the cracksinto near or complete oblivionwho wouldn't turn up in newspapers unless arrested or in those death noticesread by no one but those waiting to diewho would disappeareven from memoryface forgottenfootprints erasedinvisibleas if - unlike you -they never were.
when thoseyou love leave,they are suddenlyeverywhere -step out, turn leftthere they are!right behind you,oh they're there!on the balconiesunder the stairsup on hoardingseverywhereyou can barelytake a stepfor tripping oversome love leftor stumbling intolove that's leftwhen thoseyou love leave
what do you dowhen loveleaves?like leaves falling from a treeall too suddenly and all too slowand you areleftthe station is an empty echothe train is gonethe dust motes dance no moreleft, behindleft, what is remainingleft, not rightit is never rightbut it isit is what it isyou waityou wait it outyour waitingis not waitingit is not waiting foryou wait in silence, ...
love endures, but hate – hate gives you the hottest firesa burning that won’t easeflaming in the pit of your bellyeyes alight, skin ablaze, heart afirebrilliantly aflamesearing through lifehate is hot coals on cold nights
that first time, a Christmas treethe kindness of strangerstowards childrenwe didn’t know what we didn’t havemaking do with what we didstringing popcorn on the treethe girl next-door would eat it upbut we were wrapped up in love,that warm blanket for cold days.
it was easy to pick youto pick you upto keep you for long enough[all these years,a long timefor something that wasn’t love]lust is a hot knifethrough hard icebut some things melt easily –only to harden again
travelling back to where you arethis train hurls itself forwardI am forever rear-facingthe outside unfolding in reverseno surprises there, it's all passed by mebeforeI don't know if I have passed you tooor if you have left
you used to love me when you were drunksobriety never became usbut I longer answer your drunk textsa spoilsport, I won't play the gamedirect your calls elsewhereto someone who will staywhen the liquor endsI didn't love you at allno, not even then.