Yesterday I was at a wonderful poetry night called Speakeasy, run by the beaut that is Kit Finnie. I did my first freestyle and it was a lot of fun taking words from the audience and creating a poem on the spot. Poetry is fun, even more so when you stretch yourself and it becomes challenging like… NaPoWriMo! Enjoy today’s poem, I would just like to add a disclaimer that I am not suicidal. That will make so after you begin to read…
Clapham Junction Thoughts
I think I ought to stop taking trains.
I keep getting the urge to jump.
I’m telling myself I’m not suicidal,
I just have this fascination with being hit by a train.
I’ve started taking extra steps back on the platform.
I don’t completely trust myself.
Funny how my mind takes me back,
though it’s my thoughts that urge my body forwards.
If I ever get hit by a train,
this poem is not evidence of suicide.
I was pushed!
Investigate my murder!
Is this temptation to guaranteed destruction
a trait of character?
Do you relate?
Am I strange?
Funny how long my tongue has curled up into silence.
The most curious things in our mind we keep quiet.
It’s not a big deal.
I’m not ready to die.
I’m merely intrigued at what getting hit by a train feels like.
I can’t think why.