The Walk Back And Two Wishes

Photography by Chanel Irvine

 

my big

toenail

was ripped (off)

but i don’t know that

yet. (it feels fine)

my blundstone still

covers/protects/supports

everything ankle down;

i don’t have to

worry about that

right now.

 

the music I just

escaped — continues on

in my head,

but with

a different rhythm

I guess that’s why

I left.

 

it doesn’t matter that tomorrow will be

rough

achingly serious thoughts tie-dyed with

confused pain in places

i know (I KNOW) have heeled.

i can sleep between now, and then.

 

chilled-clip-cloppingly stiff i keep passing houses asleep for hours

children who will grow up to be (me?)

(this?)

good luck.

for a second, amid the furious, i wish i didn’t smell like now; like your second-hand smoke.

i wish our kettle wasn’t broken.

 

BUT upon it all; here is my

smile

my

laugh

(my mum’s

eyebrows, but that’s not important now)

 

and until forever

i will have

all

these things.