chronicillness (Remove filter)
Real Life
She lies awake at night,
eyes wired,
frantically reading
anything, anything,
to not think about it,
to patch up the cracks,
sew up the seams,
stuff the holes with cushions
made of trash TV and Facebook,
while the mould seeps
down the bedroom wall,
letters lie ignored
re: default sum unpaid,
again.
So sick, sick
of hospital appointments,
waiting in ...
Thursday 24th May 2018 6:03 pm
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
5 hours ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
7 hours ago
John F Keane on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
8 hours ago
John F Keane on A Cut Above
8 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
10 hours ago
Mike McPeek on Fallen Leaf
15 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on The Forgotten
16 hours ago
Rolph David on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
16 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on His Majesty’s Stay Out of Hell Cards: “Divine Right” and “Convention”
17 hours ago
Hélène on Elementary
18 hours ago