Wednesday, 16 May 2012

Frayed


Elder light dwindles against
grime-tinted windowpanes,
the stench of corpses exudes
from a badly defrosted fridge;
a circle of smart phone screens
illuminates a dishevelled chamber
where all that was once forgotten
becomes remembered again.

Clutching our secret burdens
we weary few answer the summons,
shared joy a rare moment of triumph
condensed into acronyms and emoticons;
amongst fragments of our former lives
the best is hoped and the worst planned for,
as wretched screams out on the estate
never cease to be pleas for help.

A cigarette carelessly dropped
sets the unknown world alight,
like a spider's broken body
a map folds in on itself;
stunned into furious silence
we are forced to accept that
without the guide we're lost
before we have even set off.

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