Isn’t it strange, that in the centre of heartbreak, my soul spoke your name. Every part of me knows your name. Anxious brain, lovestruck eyes, hidden heart, that whispers “Him? Again?” I don’t reply, just staring at your reply, restrained but so clearly full of wishes, things you’d do, if you could trust yourself, not…

I wrote a song for the man you became, to mourn the man you were. I remember you, blue, ocean over me, bright, stars in the sky, and each inch of my eyes. I’m exhausted by the many ways I’ve felt, in the last few hours, full of rage, full of regret, self pity and…

Last night, I thought I was bereft, but then I remembered that I get monthly cheques, for the damage you left, so I got a bottle of vodka, and got the fuck on with it. Some day, you’ll just be a song, on a compilation album, a poem I perform, in the cities we might…