Dark Nights, Darker Days

The city of dreams,
This is the city of my nightmares.

The city of my last love,
This is the city of a thousand cold hard stares.

I can’t breathe, but
I can see what
(I think) is all around me.

The city has me in a
Choke hold and it ain’t
Letting me breath.

Let me go, just let
Me go.

I scream to mangled foes,
Whilst all I get is broken bones,
Blow after blow.

In this city of spite,
There is no respite.

I don’t need to be free,
I just need to be.

Imagined Conversations Vol. 1

…”You know my feelings on our family, I’m sick of being treated as a small child – I am adult!

“You need to relax, you know you are in a very lucky position being able to live at home still, sure dad may stick his oar in where it sometimes doesn’t require, but just put up with it for the minute”.

“Fine….”

…..”How beautiful is this lanscape, this beach and the rolloing waves?”

“It’s cold, I’m cold! Can we go home now?”

“Just a bit further, a bit longer….”

…”I’ve hit the bottom, I know I have.  I’m sick of this job, sick of not doing anything each weekend, I need to escape, I need something to hang on to”.

“The job is fine, everyone is in the same position you know, you should count yourself lucky that you can do what you do.  Have you though about writing any more or trying to meet new people?”

“Well I have tried, a bit, but it’s tough and then….”

…”Your grandfather used to work on the ships you know, in the merchant navy.  Went around the world, spending weeks and months at sea, only to have a few days of shore leave at the end of it.  A different story today of course, where shore leave is ever more compacted, don’t have the fun that you used have!”

“Dad, shut up!  Tell me more about grandad and his adventures on the high seas…”

The old thought was on my mind as I took this picture.  What are you doing, where are you going?

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