It blinked its lazy eye and blew in my face,
I smelt abandoned buildings and forgotten faces.
I breathe through corrupted lungs,
It’s you I am breathing,
The riot of colours is dead in its paltry grave.
I reside amongst roses long forgotten,
They tell me stories of the lovers, who never came looking for them,
My dignity chokes back its sadism.
Burnt and bitter; I have woken up fitful on a bed of ash,
I used to be friends with sleep,
It’s the art of somnambulating I have discovered.
I am leaving I say,
I pack my bags, stuff them with feelings,
Your words; I know a graveyard nearby.
Dignity, too much fucking dignity,
I was told, will be the death of me,
I smile a savaged wild smile.