staring at the door
i dreamt it was your birthday
and that i loved you

a puddle forming

a sentence left unfinished

a dish best served cold

an old puzzle box
that opens a door to hell
two quid from oxfam

he will meet you there

tell you where it all went wrong

and what you must do

it knows everything

knows where you’re vulnerable

knows all your secrets

air leaks from the room

i reach out to touch your hand

my arm halts, frozen

a confrontation

standing up or staying out

weighing up the cost

in a dark forest

a tree trunk spans a ravine

we’re chased to it’s peak

this is what i chose
and make of that what you will
it seemed so simple

i’m a shape-shifter
i take the form of a bear
no one is impressed

fear creeps up my spine

the sense of being followed

from each dark corner

business is business

the flies are dropping like flies

but boys will be boys

also my phone was out of battery