There’s no better way to say thank you than to tell someone they owe you something.
Because I had never had Toblerone, some things just get past you.
Sitting at a friend’s place in our early twenties, recalling the old times,
I never thought to tell you how I felt because I was so sure I knew what you’d say.
The birds still sounded happy and I muttered for them to fuck off
since the smoke in my lungs didn’t make me feel better.
Half wishing I had a visible scar
I was realising our minds forever work in reverse.
I am sure that life is always time spent wrong
and I’ve been right before
but not as often as I’ve been scared
on a beach path, riding my bike.
A little girl totters across and my brakes fail,
I had never desired so much to be somewhere else
Lying in bed after watching a great film,
listening to good music,
my frustrating youth allows me only to think of a girl.
Sipping my coffee in the morning and thinking it’s mediocre
before a bullet blasts through my office window
and into my chest, and there is a sinking feeling
but also a sense that my inner struggles are draining away.
I have questions about myself that no one else can answer
so most of the time I end up asking;
does my skin feel the same on theirs as theirs does on mine?