I write words to speak
I write words to seek
I write words to folk
I write words to fuck
I write words to violence
I write words to silence
I write words to absence
I write words to absinthe
I just write words whenever
And they always come out the same
Even I can’t read them back
I lie on my bed naked as I watch TV.
It’s okay, nobody’s watching.
I’m watching something grotty, it’s better than anything soppy.
It’s okay, nobody is watching me watching this.
Though as the action fades to black I see my own reflection.
Watching me watching this watching that naked.
And I look at my reflection and pull the covers over.
I look at my reflection and throw the remote over.
But there I am, staring right back at me.
And the only thing I long for.
Is a reflection-free TV.
They look so annoyed with those forehead wrinkles showing.
They look so overjoyed, their eyes are glazed over.
That television host keeps smiling. She’s so high, her cheeks keep twitching.
I’d have to ask the stranger sitting in the bushes outside looking into my numb mind.
… Into the early hours on a Tuesday morning.