Lost Cause

I've not liked any poem I've written since my cat died...and I've been through a long spell of depression... my brain doesn't work the same way? I don't know. But at least I wrote something...

Midnight

In a city that closes down at dusk.

I hang on the mind’s window ledges

Like an onyx spider dangling

From a spindly web of gauze.

Shell-shocked and cell-locked

By my thoughts – a lost cause.

Mid-flight,

Insanity spreads its wings,

Becoming the mundane.

And hope?

A cigarette flame, its ashes to ashes

Twist and turn to rust, turn to dust.

Smoke-fuelled, hope dissolves like whispers,

Drifting through dead air.

The knife always slashes.

The axe always falls.

Misanthrope -

Yet one part scarred romantic

Though clearly that’s in vain.

Asphalt

Suffocating with bleak swells.

Grotesque raucous families

Congregate on sunshine-y days

And seem not to obsess with churning guts

Over life’s decay while I always dwell.

I do still laugh at strange things.

My own fault?

I ended up here,

I don’t know why.