'How can I sit here,’

you must wonder,

‘and repeat all of the things

that have placed me in this cage.’


If I cannot change that,

then how am I ever

going to live by a word

I only ever said

between my teeth?


I didn’t trust it,

so it failed me.

Now I do,

It is failing me:

The world carries on


Chopin plays on:

I no longer enjoy him there,

because now I need him.

Unlike Chopin,

I am no longer needed.

It is incomprehensible:


In and amongst the longing

to reverse those mistakes,

that drone like a wasp in each ear,

-Both stings reaching deep in to my throat-

There is still you.


There is still you.

The End

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