that last box, ticked.

it hurts, breathing.
that last box, ticked,
coutning on your list
there's no-one left.

it hurts, smiling.
that one named, caged
in the middle of a page
they've all gone.

it hurts, talking.
make them smile,
stay aminute, stay a while
i've lost them all.

it hurts, climbing.
back up to the start
i was stupid, wasn't smart
they're not coming back.

it hurts, living.
alone again, chances faded
cold again, warmth i'm craving
they never thought about you anyway.

all too easy.

Blade raised, ready to rip
Those last remaining strands away
She pauses; silence dripping
Echoing off tile and glass
She thinks, for a moment, waiting,
What's the point?

Poised, she realised
No-one would care.

She could slash her skin
Til only flesh and sticky blood
Were left
And no-one would notice.

With a single slice,
She could end her life
Just like that.

Slowly, her wrist drew that sliver of sharp
Across her pale, beating veins
Beneath translucent veils
So close, that sliver of sharp lay
To bone and sinew within the clay
Of her crumbling form.

All too easy.

She grapsed it, and pressed it
To her forehead, creased with
Anger, jealousy, shame
She had let her body waste away
And her desires with it.

She felt, she had little to give
So why not give the rest?

With a single slice,
She would end her life,
Just like that.

And the silence screamed.

the silence.

silence.
we know nothing of silence.
silence, does not exist in the human world.
the living world.

when whispers cease, the clock keeps ticking.
when footsteps creak, and come to a halt, the heart keeps beating.

the world never stops
as people move and rush and sway and

chatter incessantly

even when the blanket falls, and things become
slightly awkward-
sly glances and fingers drumming
hold that silence ever still.

an engine noise, in the distance
growing closer,    louder,  LOUDER,    slowly,    fading

like the spin of a knife
through tension's air.

or the rapid breathing of a child
within a deep, deep sleep.
lost in dreaming
rapid breathing
silence stays in shadow's grasp,
it daren't move.

it is only when
the clock stops ticking, and the heart stops beating
that silence consumes
overwhelms, engulfs a soul
as it disappears
from the living world.

within the mottled skin, and jealous veins
drunk with blood, as it lingers
nowhere to go
the silence gorges, no whispers made
a body, left to rot, infected
by sound's absence,

in swarms the decay.

if a tree falls to the forest floor
but there is no-one there to hear it
does it make a noise, a sound at all
or is the silence left to steal it?

spike.

It was dark
So, very dark, she couldn't see
Stumbling blindly
Through the forest of forgotten things
She tripped, fell
A metal spike
Straight through her chest
Punctured through thin skin
Like a pin through paper
She bled, wept
Coursing pain in her veins
Metallic poison spreading
As the blood, left her
She couldn't die
Wouldn't, die

Got up, walked off
Stumbled blindly with a tear stained face
And nobody knew, nobody could see
In the forest of forgotten things
And out into the real world
Rusting pole protruding
And the damage remained unnoticed
The odd screech as bone scraped
On mottled steel
Time wore the ends away

Until, flush with the surface
The spike in her chest
Became one with the rest
The pain, still raging
White tinged with unhealthy green
The damage remained unnoticed
And she lived on
With a heaviness in her heart.

the first frost.

A clear sky at sunrise
     The first frost appears in autumns wake.
The air is visible before my face
As feet tremble on the faint silver trails
Splayed across pathways
Vehicles gleam as they roar past
Through misshapen cut-outs
Shoulders shiver
Wrought with regret
At their partings from warmer homes
The wind is sharp, fleeting at my skin
Palms burning, cheeks smarting
One can only turn away
From the force of winter’s hand
Lights, of varying size and colour
Charm the familiar sights of
A closely huddled street
Too early, some might say
For the start of the month
But still, a luminous inkling
For more clear mornings to come
Clustered patches of bare tree
And rusted grass, each blade shudders
As the sky grows brighter
Ever cloudless
It’s subtle presence, louder
As the first frost makes itself
Known to us
The pressing cold reigns true again
On my way to another day
Winter has begun.