Poem: On the edge of a nerve


I set out, and started, slowly.
Suddenly, we were afforded the luxuries of a bursting life,
Seeping from our seams, straining with gentle gluttony. Then,
We pretended to step forwards and receive the praise
Upon which we beat ourselves.

I arrived flying, unchained and unheralded
Landing gracefully amongst those who fear and revere you,
Strident in my enmity for your chosen frustration;
A nationality chosen professionally;
A mask hiding an ambition.

Freedom hadn’t reigned, nor soaked anyone
For a long time. Time memorialised by theatre and fine wine,
Then cuppa-soup some weeks later. Mouth to mouth,
Month to month, wages breathed fire into our bellies,
And we fizz and crack, a few weeks more.

And then I creep, quietly
Away from the wake of daytime, quietly navigating shadows,
I arrive suddenly, and glancing behind me, lighting another, more secret fire.
One that glows on my face, unties fibrous shoulders; unites me with myself,
And releases me from the grip of that awful old unreality.

Image credit

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