wakey7dev

Life’s different without you in it, mum. Not better or worse, just a shoe change to get me moving again.

The thing is, you weren’t just a reminder of the past.

You tethered me to it. A horse hitched to a post outside the saloon with the broken windows.

But then I found the shears and grew opposable thumbs. 

The past wasn’t actually that bad in the present. It’s only seeing it through a microscope that I now see the germs.

Anyway, all this just to say things have changed now. I know you love me. I know I love you. But I can’t have you here in this present. I can’t be led back to the saloon, the one with all the bar fights and gunshots.

I made it to a mountain-side, and I need to keep w

I remember asking you if it was time for me to go in for tea, because I hadn’t learned to read a clock yet.

Your Scottish dad and English mum, always sat on the brown sofa, in the foggy living room. He drank a lot, smelled like whisky and cigarettes.

I remember your dad leaving, the day your mum said no to his proposal. He was comfortable, but she wasn’t. They were always kind to me, in a stand-offish kinda way. They just let us get on.

Something in you changed that day though, you were the same but over-shadowed. You were still my friend, for a couple more years at least.

I’m not sure I’m the same either now, a lot has changed since the 90s. I’m not even sure we would be friends if we m

The thing is, I don’t know what to do here.

I turned left, but I’m wondering if I should have gone straight ahead.

The place is unrecognizable and wears thin.

I want to shout but it’s muffled in the fog, shallow breaths.

The one subtle truth; I am out of my depth.

I lie to myself by smiling.

Maybe they won’t find out, maybe it will follow me to the end.

Either way, I won’t run. I will stay here.

I will help clear the roots and moss.

I decided years ago I would make this easier for those on their way.

So I hunker down and stop complaining.

Maybe one day that smile will tell a truth.

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[https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1n8zy2i/comment/ncj03o5/?utm_sour

My first poem, pleased to join the community :) —-

If you only live once, how can this be me living my best life?

It feels good don’t get me wrong, but what came before it to give this one the acclaim?

And will there be a better one yet to come that hopes to be Christmas number one?

God only knows I suppose.

But that’s another thing they say, god knows.

Does she?

If she knows it’s downhill from here then surely she should say something instead of lurking and maybe I can change it instead of spending my days with a black hole in my chest wondering if there’s something else after this.

There must be, right?

But if there is, it can’t be better, because I suddenly remember.

I’m li