by James Hall

Created on: January 17, 2011

Hotel Permanence

You writhe on a white mattress,

dreams disfigured, colours blackened

fingers fragile, brushing my own

from the window, London heaves away

hold me in our place and time

shivering, pulling the covers from you

all those words whispered with courage

drift down

and out of sight

as

slowly, inevitably, I

shadow myself, from all we had

the children in our visions

have tripped and fallen

clasping bruises, hidden,

for if my friends only knew

the secrets we’ve made

go deeper than grazed knees

seeping through bloodshot eyes of trying

bleeds a fear that crushes with real and truth

you cannot save what you cannot see

needing but nothing from me

yet

listening to me strain

racked in the gallows

buried under tombstone weight

of galactic forces, straining to believe

in the mess that is,

the love that left

I turn away in pain,

wishing I cared, for your thousand tears

or

what your breakfast now feels like

eaten solemn, under an eastern sun that never sets

over a space you, suffocate within

praying that your family forget me

lay no blame your way

write me off as that typical westerner

a white guy rogue

who does not deserve, their daughter’s pearl

see you would cut flesh for me,

as I barely feel a scratch

so like a permanent post it

placed on all you tried to change

written in sad certainty, I read

– farewell

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