rubbish / anxiety

these images
are rubbish, i tell myself
toss them, burn them
let the wind take them

these images, these impaled dreams,
litter for cars to drive over
then take off, flight of dawn
let water follow its course
down to the sea, you’ll be alright

these images, are french
grim petulant pricks
now the air stinks with their smoke
my skin no longer yours
for i’ve showered
but let me bathe
in your words once more
not in worries, deep blue
the colour of the ocean at night

these images stab my eyes
burns the sun on their lids now
and it hurts, it froths
my sleep retreats under their touch
and tears flow upwards
as i cry to the sky
those broken shelves screech
for no longer can i escape through any ink
but yours

these images are rubbish
and i’ll flush them down the toilet
once i know they’re not true

(poem written in response to Mara Easterns Poetry Rehab 101: Rubbish)


2 thoughts on “rubbish / anxiety

  1. Hm, I just tried to comment on this post but my comment didn’t appear, I must have done something wrong :-O I was complimenting you on your skill in capturing heightened emotional states of mind…


  2. Despair and dreams are often coming together.
    No matter how much we wish for things to be different – sometimes they are just the way they are.

    I want to cry and scream and shout…
    that’s what I thought about reading your poem. And about an image I have made during winter holiday with my former boyfriend a few years ago…

    You are and always will be a great poet.


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