ramblings of a madwoman

assorted fragments - some sharp, some victim to the rounding effect of time

they are moments where a piece of who i was, who i am, and who i will be collide and linger

sometimes i piece them together like a stained glass window

in the glass i see myself

in that twin room with my cousin, with salt-crusted hair and freckled cheeks

in that corridor with its broken windows and brown, shiny brick that was always cold to the touch

on that windowsill overlooking forest and fields the night before we met

sitting in my living room at midnight in the light of the tv pressing play on the first month of us

in that aquarium, looking at your reflection in the dim light and deciding my future was in that faint outline

in that too-fancy hotel room, drunk on the fleeting feeling of wanting

on that scratchy grey sofa, staring at that ceiling and deciding to let you go

running through that field in fading light, hand in hand with the wish from every birthday candle

in that city where i lived alongside ghosts that weren’t mine for once

on that train as time rushes past and leaves her behind

in the flickering purple and red light of that bar as cold metal seeps into bare thighs and smoke crawls through lungs

dancing, dancing, so much dancing in the street

that first laugh at an email and the decision to reply

in that alley packed like sardines with friends i only know for the night

sitting at that dilapidated shelter waiting for a bus that would never come

in the sea as the waves crash over me, baptising me over and over in their forgiving violence