I don’t need you
it took courage
but there, I said it.
tomorrow i plan on
trying my hand at making guacamole.
pottering across town to visit my granny.
lying in the garden in a t shirt and knickers with the papers spread around me.
buying a spiderplant. from somewhere.
remembering (unlike today) to apply suncream.
moisturise my shoulders to counteract resulting sunburn.
put my finger on the reason behind my current mild state of distraction and disatisfation.
it’s a pain
that feeling of frustration and wasted opportunity when your witty anecdote, recollected on the spur of the moment and before an audience is missing one crucial detail.
tuesday 11th may. work to be done.
girls with boys names
charlie
dylan
tommy
finn
george
frankie
And I conclude that giving your daughter one of these names will enable them to become that cool breed of girl. abilities include being able to wear a high pony tail without looking preppy, wearing minimal make up while looking completely and subtley pretty and an in-built comprehensive knowledge of 1990s hiphop.
no
if I hear the word ‘win’ used to describe a sense of fortunate achievement one more time..
.
men on bikes
who buck occaisionally and suddenly for the pure hell of it
the simple things
a house filled with lull after family entertainment
a deep bath
a neat slab of chocolate to be savoured
evenly, square by square
a hot water bottle waiting in bed
a faithful novel, it’s spine ready to stretch
small doe
frozen in the clearing
black cave nose twitching
caution sniffing
ears aloft
like a puppeteer’s string
contorting it’s eyes
lifted in surprise
dreamland
sometimes I wonder if the strangers in our dreams exist in real life.
those anonymous faces, their appearance improvised so quickly and woven into our sleepy thoughts by our subconscious.
maybe if you traced the miles of power pylons, hopped across the oceans using oil rigs as stepping stones, you’d find your stranger.
swaddled in duvet too.
the anonymous face printed onto their twitching eyelids your own.
