I’m not coping
I’m in a very bad way
It’s been a very bad day
Since we last spoke

I was hoping
To hear you saying my name
Say you were playing a game
Just some sick joke

My poor heart
Felt the occasional bruise
When I
Let it out to roam
But I start
To see how much I could lose
And try
To keep it close to home

Are you scoping
For the next victim in line
And will you say you were mine
Or go for broke?


My poor heart
Has had to suffer a scrape
Or two
Whenever love was posed
There’s an art
To the convenient escape
But you
Left all the exits closed

I am groping
I feel your hand in my hair
But all I clutch is the air
Or is it smoke?


An early attempt. Not a good one, I’m afraid.

crumpled paper