Thoughts

IP

You had lovely hands; couldn’t cook to save your life.

a surreal poem about night time, death, and dreams.

Her tears, like razor blades slash her cheeks in sync with the sleet like knives, stabbing the crispy autumn leaves scattered round her feet. “Sweet dreams Katie”, Jenny whispered, almost blinded by a waterfall of tears, as she gently dropped a sunflower (Katie’s favourite) onto her daughter’s coffin.

what is real ?

Josh watched himself in the mirror, head cocked to one side, breathing heavy with tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead .His hands were shaking as he held them out in front of him, slowly to the

Josh crawled into bed, shutting his eyes tight to block out the voices that whispered to him, willing him to return to the bridge.

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