Textling #98

Those times when you’re feeling too much and speech gets lost in the folds of fatigue. When you’re feeling too much and can’t call a friend, or stomp it off, or sit in a park and stare through trees. When you’d trudge to the corner shop, if you could, hoard jam rolls and wine for crying; or stand rounds at a pub you’ve never set foot in. You’d dunk morsels of breaded past in each glass, shout ‘keep them coming!’; fall asleep in a book you found on a bench, bawl between billowing lines. First light you’d take a knife to the bedroom wall, carve a way to a sun-lit now. You’d climb every belfry in town to roar down from, or, should all fail, wave a white flag, with her name on.

When a friend dies, too much is just not enough.

Audio

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2 thoughts on “Textling #98

  1. Sorry to hear about your friend.
    Hope the textling gave some of the venting needed.
    Good to hear your words. Illuminating as always how all life’s situations play out through lens of fatigue. Power to you. Helen Mac F

    Like

  2. Came to change a word and found a comment – thank you Helen Mac F! You’re indeed the only one. And you’re right, it did help a little to write. Took a month to find the first words.

    Like

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