by Rupert Pip

We were only kids when
we started smoking together.

It’s a horrible feeling to cough
that much but we insisted
on doing it until our lungs
felt sore anyway.

Getting older, we drank beer
like the last night on Earth
every weekend until we had
blown out enough candles
to call ourselves adults.

But you haven’t been outside
much since then.

Someone told me that the
‘cat who caught your tongue’
came and grabbed your heart also.

You on the other hand, insist
you’re just tired, but I’m afraid
we all know you better than that.

And I know you see your
mirror shouting
spiteful words at the body
you put on today, but
it’s 5AM here now and
it’s been hours since
you flooded my head
making jet black
curve nicely,

my eyelids have never been
such a lovely place to be.