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I’d seen her life; as such as she’d seen mine.
I’d seen her life; as such as she’d seen mine.
We’d leave our windows a jar at night
the needle and thread from prying eyes
the heating on and candles lit.
It eased the struggle of a shadows stitch.
But she’d never let her shadow stray.
And I’d never let mine out of sight.
We’d call a truce on stalemates.
When greener grass arrived.
I’d almost take that step
start again and ditch the dregs
less bold men have done far more
I’d tire for trying or so I thought.
And then it hit;
my stomach ballooned and filled with flies.
It rumbled from the hunger
and the missing pins from the bedside table returned.
I left my window open as normal
instead with intension of improper use.
That night I’d planned to leave my life.
I drew the hottest bath I should
I kept the steam, with a towel under the door
to iron out the life I once had.
My hand cleared the condensation from the mirror
unmasking this lifeless man.
Leaning over the sink, I washed my face
and glanced at the dirty water.
There it floated, on the dull, seemingly exploited surface,
the life that was once mine.
I hung it over the door to dry;
the last time I’d tried it from a hanger,
dangled next to a cold window.
A foolish after thought perhaps repeating itself.
The next morning was stale to look at.
The frost was on the other side of the window now.
I nearly forgot I condemned my life
to the likes of boot sale tat.
But that sodding thing, that troubled thing,
still soaked to the bone.
Still hanging there, as promising as before
and as useless, thing.
I snatched at the silhouette from the back of its head
as if to drag it out by the scruff of its neck
I lost my rag that day and flung it from my second floor flat,
closed the window and planned on painting it that way.
That was that, well so I thought
I made toast and readied myself for work
brushed my teeth at the same basin
next to the bath, where the scum now gathered in the plughole.
I smoked a roll up from the same window on the left
drunk tea from the same cup to my right.
Left my house at almost the exact same time I did each morning,
and thought about the probability of achieving such things.
On my walk to work and out the corner of my eye
I caught my life.
It was mine all right,
I could tell by the size
That night I left my window closed
the washing on the side.
I made plans to pay the council tax and the electric bills
but forgot about the paint.
