End of the Day (Narrow Skies)

Panic - #FreeWriteWednesday 07/01/2015

I move through the flat
leaving all the lights on
And every surface adorned with a dirty cup
Doors ajar
Cupboards gaping
Tights hung drying over doors and radiators
And I do not wash
And drink wine from the bottle
And I wait

And 17 people were shot in Paris while I got through the length
Of one paragraph – stopping
Going hmmm.

I have a son,

And he has grown all the way to aged 7 in
The length of this
one thought.

But I will stay alive
until every word is spilled.
Even if it takes
A thousand years.

Facebook lies!
The incessant bleat
that I’m running out of time.

Silently, I tell it to go f**k itself.

Then, aloud,
I tell Isaiah to go next door and play
So I can be alone
to panic