The Sense Of An Ending


the diagnosis
a cigarette behind the garden shed
the smell of rotting fruit
the sleeping in separate beds
the door slam
the “and don’t come back!”

the bottom of the bottle
the “sorry for your loss”

growing out of my opinions and clothes
not your typical teenage troubles
inner goodness bulldozed
the misplacing of metaphorical marbles
another diagnosis
a long life on Death Row
mad medication
no card from him in the post
eternal damnation
psychotic episode
involuntary section

the bottom of the bottle
the “sorry for your loss”

green drinks in Southend-on-Sea
something along the lines of “blissfully happy”
a drunken fight on Christmas night
a taxi disappearing down the street
an “I just don’t love you anymore”
bradycardia and no sleep
my life in boxes on the dusty floor
no attempt to make things better
the removal of the ring
sobbing at The Last Supper
the returning of the key
an unwritable letter
the changing of the locks

the bottom of the bottle
the “sorry for your loss”

secret texts and meetings at The Cherry Tree
photography on Bond Street and overpriced coffee
Brixton Academy and “this time around we’ll do things properly”
then: the disappearance
then: the devastation and the silence and my heart broken
then: the whoring and the violence and not another word ever spoken

the bottom of the bottle
the “sorry for your loss”

an infection
an uneaten apple
a hallucination
a paramedic
a comment about Bob Dylan
the last hint of him
having his wits about him
a cold corridor
an “I don’t think he can fight this anymore”
the rising of his chest for his final breath
the kiss on the lid of his coffin

the bottom of the bottle
the “sorry for your loss”

25th birthday “celebrations”
hypothermia and graveside conversations
the end of the world as we know it knew it
a Do Not Disturb sign
the final pill of the final packet
eyes shut for the last time
a shattered moon
a “see you soon”


the prognosis
The Girl Who Couldn’t Die
the “you’re lucky to be alive”
the why why why why why

the return to the scene of the crime
still blood on the sheets at bedtime
the “let’s just pretend that everything’s fine”
languishing at The End of The Northern Line

sex, drugs and on the dole
a cap, a gown, a ceremony, a scroll
the certificate that proves that you did it
the “hang on, I don’t deserve this shit”

the tidying of the mess
the donation of the dress
the block and delete
the erasure of memory in a faraway sea

167 bruises and a seahorse stamp on the back of my hand
dancing with a better man
fingertips glitter with a moth’s wing powder
the voice of love shouting louder and loUDER AND LOUDER

the revolving door of rehabilitation
chasing self-validation
racing the sunset
the ink is dry though the pages are wet

the “Welcome to London Heathrow”
the “This Is Your Life”
the only thing you know:
there will be another sunrise.

Originally published by Free Verse Revolution here.

5 thoughts on “The Sense Of An Ending

  1. So creative, was so sombre most of the way then you threw in a dash of hope and some rays of light at the end. Love the way this swung me this way and that through emotion

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