The urban noise outside is assaulting my ears, stopping me from thinking properly. I just can’t turn off. Thick curtains are keeping the room air-raid black I’m sure, but my eyes are hurting from some brightness so I can still see your face - and your body.
I’m like an iron filing to you and you’re magnetic power. A super magnet that makes me helpless when I’m near, the feelings just rise up in me unbidden however I try to fight it. Sometimes I don’t fight off course - we’re so much meant to be together. It must be obvious to everyone.
This morning when we said “hello” I rose inwardly, and I fear outwardly too. That’s why I had to run. Someone must have seen it, maybe even you.
And now, as I’m lying here this evening alone in this painful darkness, I can’t get you out of my useless head. I know I must find someone else, before I go truly insane, even though they will not be able to live up to you. But it’s so hard, when all I can think of is you. It’s so hard.
I know you’re at home tonight, watching a film, having dinner, maybe a glass of wine. With your little girl. The whole family caboodle - yes, with your husband too. I know I could love you so much more than he does - I know, because I already do.
There are the hard-men dogs somewhere outside barking their territorial warnings. I’m definitely staying in tonight.
Every path in this head-based maze of mine leads to you. I always find you but when I get there you’re inevitably just out of reach. I’m never going to get you in reality or even in my head. What cruelty? When even my own dreams are playing these tricks.
In this wicked darkness your face and your body are still here with me, looking like it always does - I can feel the electromagnetism flicking on. The heating’s yet to burst into life, but I am sweating cobs with the thoughts of you.
Two dogs outside bark their testosterone reminders of my solitary confinement.
I reach for the Laphroaig and last night’s sticky glass. I need to get some serious drink in to wash away this hurtful lust. I foresee malt waves of oblivion. I’ll drink to you and me of course, but please leave me after this first bottle.
I want no dreams to remember tonight.


Mid Week Blues Buster #50 (2014)