I am a wild-eyed loner at the gates of oblivion
I want to die like Jesus Christ
I want to write my name in the stars
I want to dive into your ocean
See the moon underground
My head is a jungle, my heart is a garden
Every day I’m looking at blank chalk boards
My inside is out, my outside is in
I can’t escape the noise and din
I’m thrusting my nose skywards to escape the bouquets of exotic flowers
I have a daffodil on my lip and teacup on my lap
I can’t escape the keyboards’ clicks and clacks
My wonderous child has fled, escaped into the night
I’m left with a pile of ashes, grief and emotion swept under the carpet
What’s that around the corner, a scary monster?
I hid from myself for years, gnawed at bones and ate bile
Hid from the beauty, the tears, the joy, the happiness, in toil
Touched the soil and was touched by the sun
Solitude of books written in this mortal coil.
Copyright © Chris Hudson (2019)
